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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..442d170 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51251 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51251) diff --git a/old/51251-8.txt b/old/51251-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 9da6c04..0000000 --- a/old/51251-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,22016 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Morley Ernstein, by -G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James - -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: Morley Ernstein - or the Tenants of the Heart - -Author: G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James - -Release Date: February 20, 2016 [EBook #51251] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORLEY ERNSTEIN *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans pprovided by -Google Books (The British Library) - - - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - 1. Page scan source: - https://books.google.com/books?id=KJtWAAAAcAAJ - (The British Library) - 2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe] - - - - - - -MORLEY ERNSTEIN - -OR THE - -TENANTS OF THE HEART - -A ROMANCE - -BY G.P.R. JAMES ESQ. - - - -BRUSSELS. -MELINE, CANS AND CO. -M DCCC XLII - - - - - - -MORLEY ERNSTEIN -OR -THE TENANTS OF THE HEART. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - - -"Pouvons-nous pas dire, qu'il n'y a rien en nous, pendant cette prison -terrestre, purement, ni corporel ni spirituel?" asks good old -Montaigne, and certain it is that in many an act where we imagine the -body alone takes part, the spirit has as great a share; and in many a -thought where the mind seems to divest herself of clay, the impulse -was given by the body, not the soul. But besides the contention -between the corporeal and spiritual part of our nature, and the sort -of swindling that goes on on both sides, he that looks into his own -heart must acknowledge with him of old, that there seem to be two -spirits within us. I do not only mean two spirits distinguished by -their promptings to good and evil, but two principles separate in -their nature, in their objects, and in their ultimate dwelling-place, -the one tending to the earth, the other aspiring to the heavens; the -one the principle of animal existence, the other the principle of -immortal life; the one shared with the brutes that perish, the other -that essence which raises us above them here and hereafter. What shall -we call these two spirits? How shall we distinguish them, the one from -the other, in speaking of them hereafter? Let us name the higher and -the purer one, _the spirit of the soul_; and call the other, _the -spirit of the flesh_; for both are distinct from mere intellect, which -each uses as an agent, as each gains the ascendancy, or appeals to as -a judge when the struggle is nearly equal. It is upon this struggle -between these two principles that turns the greater part of each man's -moral history. - -One of the strangest points in that contest is, that _the spirit of -the soul_, as we have called the one, appeals less frequently to the -intellect than her earthly sister, leaving it, in general, to the -latter, as if for her uses in this earth the powers of intellect were -given, while the soul obtains its impulses from other sources, and, -marked out for a higher destiny, receives winged inspirations from the -world to which it tends--faith, conviction, sentiment, feeling, -conscience;--and oh, how often does that better spirit seize the happy -moment to open the eyes which all our powers of mind could not -unclose, and strip the world and all its pleasures of the delusions -which no force of intellect has been equal to dispel! - -At the age of one-and-twenty years--It is a beautiful age, full of the -spring, with all the vigour of manhood, without one touch of its -decay; with all the fire of youth, without one touch of its -feebleness! Oh, one-and-twenty! bright one-and-twenty!--wilt thou -never come back to me again? No, never! The cord of the bow has been -so often drawn that it has lost its elasticity; there have been a -thousand flowers cast away that have withered in the dust of Time's -sandy path; there have been a thousand fruits tasted that have left -but the rind in my hand; there have been a thousand travel stains -acquired that never can be washed off till the journey is done. That -which has been lost, and that which has been gained, have both been -gathered into the two baskets of the past; and whatever the future may -have in store, one-and-twenty, with its many hopes, its few fears, its -buoyancy of spirit, its elasticity of limb, its eagerness of -expectation, its activity of pursuit, its aspirations, its desires, -its faith, its confidence, its frankness, its garden of visionary -flowers, and its atmosphere of misty light, can never, never come back -to us, were we to whistle till we broke our hearts. No, no; in the sad -arithmetic of years, multiply by what numbers you will, you can never -get at one-and-twenty more than once. - -At the age of one-and-twenty years, Morley Ehrenstein, or Ernstein, as -it had been contracted, a gentleman--descended, as his name evinces, -from a very old German family, who had made themselves a home in a -foreign land, some three centuries before--sat in one of the large -chambers of an English country-house, not many miles from the good -town of Doncaster. No one tenanted the chamber but himself, and though -it was a cheerful day of summer, and the room was one of a bright and -sunny aspect, there was a degree of melancholy on the young man's -countenance, which might be difficult to account for, if we did not -look a little into his heart, and pause for a moment on his previous -history. Let him gaze then at the ceiling, and study the quaint -arabesques into which the plaster of Paris had been drawn; let him -lean his head upon his hand, and examine the pretty nothings with -which his table is covered; let him gaze out of the window into -the far distance, as if he were about to paint a portrait of the -weather-cock on the village church; but let you and I, dear reader, -first put our friend into a microscope, and note down exactly every -limb and feature and sinew, as if we were true Kirbys, anatomising a -moth; and then let us look in the old almanacks, to discover some of -the antecedents of his present state. - -The young man, then, of whom we speak, was above the middle height, -powerful in limb, and though so young, with but little of the -slightness of youth remaining. Health, and strength, and activity, -were to be traced in every swelling muscle, and those who regard what -is merely corporeal, might well pronounce him a fine animal, even when -at rest. When in activity, however--when hunting, swimming, leaping, -or performing any of those rude exercises whereof Englishmen are so -fond, and also so proud, with the glowing cheek and expanded nostril, -the flashing eye, and the strong rounded outline of every limb, he -looked like a fierce young horse, before the bit has taught it the -force of any other power than its own strength. In every moment of -excitement the animal spirit, _the spirit of the flesh_, started up -strong and bold within him; his veins seemed to be filled with molten -fire, his heart to be full of eagerness and impetuosity, his whole -mind one active enthusiasm. He felt within him a thirst for unceasing -action of any and every kind, and had it not been for certain -qualities, which we shall notice hereafter, he would have been merely -one of those who look upon all things round them, as objects on which -to employ their reckless energy, and life itself but as a child's -plaything. - -He was young, dear reader, very young, and had neither learned from -the bitter teaching of years nor from any sudden and sad experience, -that the face must be, as it were, a veil to hide the countenance of -the heart. There are few men who reach thirty, without more or less -becoming hypocrites, and still fewer women; at least, as far as the -expression of the features goes. There are some with whom the waters -of time are like those of certain springs, and gradually petrify the -face into a mask. There are others who retain their pliability of -features, but reverse the action; cover hate and sorrow with a smile, -or conceal joy and satisfaction with an air of icy indifference. There -are some endowed by nature with lineaments of marble, and some who, by -habit and by art, form for themselves an India-rubber countenance, -which will stretch to whatsoever they require. - -Morley Ernstein was none of these. He was very young, as we have said, -and nature had made his looks the reflection of all that passed in his -heart. His face was as a clear stream, through which one sees to the -very bottom. He had never learned to rule its expressions, and those -impulses which were but too apt to sway his actions, had still more -power over his countenance. - -Why then did he now look so sad? Women will imagine that he was in -love, for they are all inclined to say, with Alfred de Musset, that-- - - - "La vie est un sommeil, l'amour en est le rêve." - - -Men--but especially Frenchmen--may be inclined to suppose, with -Balzac's gamblers, when they first beheld Raphael, that there was, -under his melancholy aspect, "quelque horrible mystère;" and imagine -it proceeded from some "douleur inouïe." Neither of those -suppositions, however, would be correct. There was no one point in his -history or situation, that should have produced anything like gloom. - -Morley Ernstein was born to wealth and honour; his father had died -early, leaving but one child, to the care of a fond but a wise mother, -who, though young and beautiful at her husband's death, kept, -throughout the rest of her life, the colours of mourning in her -garments and in her heart. Some six years before the time of which we -now speak, she too had left this world for another state of being, and -her son had fallen into hands of guardians, somewhat strict, but still -prudent and kind. They had seen that his talents were great, that his -mind approached, if it did not absolutely reach, the height of genius, -and they had taken care that it should have such cultivation as the -land afforded. They were as conscientious with the young baronet's -property as with his intellect; and the old family-house had been left -in the care of two faithful good women, who had withered in the -service of his ancestors, and who now shewed themselves scrupulous in -maintaining everything in the same precise order, and clean propriety -which had been kept up during the life of the lady of the mansion. - -The guardians of Morley Ernstein had resisted all his entreaties to -let him pass the vacations of school and college in his ancestral -house; but on the day that he was one-and-twenty, a carriage and four -horses were at the door of his temporary abode before six in the -morning, and ere night he was in the dwelling of his youth. Everything -had been prepared to receive him, and he had hastened from room to -room, while all the moonlight joy of memory lit up each chamber with -associations from the past. He slept little, and rose on the following -day, to go through the accounts of guardians and executors, and he -found, as paper after paper was laid before him, new cause to applaud -their care and wisdom--new reason to look upon his situation as one of -the brightest that man could fill. The subsequent night he slept -soundly; but now, when he rose on the day we have mentioned, which was -the one that succeeded, he sat in the large drawing-room, where his -mother used to pass the morning, with his head resting on his hand, -the broad, fine forehead contracted, the bright dark eyes full of -melancholy, the corners of his mouth turned down, gazing at things he -did not see, and forgetting all the bright expectations of youth, and -all the joys that hope had spread out before him. - -Of what was it that he thought? Was it of his mother? No! Time had -healed the only wound that fate, within his own memory, had inflicted -on him; and his thoughts were of no external kind whatever: It was -that _the spirit of the soul_ then, for the first time, made her voice -heard strongly. She might have whispered before, but now she spoke -aloud. It was as a warning at the gates of life: it was as if some -hand, for a moment, drew back the glittering veil with which pale -reality covers her wrinkled front, and had shewn him, instead of the -bright young features he expected to see, nothing but deformity and -age. Unhappy is it--at the time, most unhappy--for the man, in whose -mind age and youth can change places, even for an hour. God wills us, -while we are young, to view things youngly, and when the thoughts of -age force themselves upon us in youth, we are like the living clasped -in the cold arms of the dead. - -Such, then, were the sensations of Morley Ernstein, as he sat in the -house of his fathers, master thereof, master of himself, master of -fortune, station, youth, strength, and expectation! Oh, how he had -longed for that hour! What bright visions had risen before his eyes, -of enjoyment to come! How he had strode in imagination over every -field--how he had visited every cottage--how he had consoled the old -servants for his long absence--how he had made in fancy every change -that he had devised in boyhood. He had dreamed bright dreams, though -most innocent ones; and now the dream was accomplished--he was there, -with nothing but his own will to control him in any act! Yes, the -dream was accomplished, but it was ended too! Whenever we grasp life's -flowers with too hot a hand, they are sure to wither almost ere they -reach our bosom. He had not felt as much joy as he had expected; he -had been happy certainly, but he had discovered that even happiness is -not the bright thing he had thought it; and now he sat and mused, the -spirit of the soul seeming to tell him, that thus he would still find -it throughout the whole of life; that there is a rich ingredient -wanting in the cup of mortal joy which never can be found on earth. - -There was a dull oppression on his heart that he could not account -for; there was a voice rang in his ear, telling of the emptiness of -all human things. "But a few short years ago," he thought, "here -moved my father, filled with plans and purposes, hopes and -expectations,--here crowded round him the gay, the bright, the -beautiful, the wise, the good--here honour waited, wealth supported, -renown followed him--here, too, my mother spent days of joy and -sorrow--here she looked with tenderness upon my cradle--here she -watched with pride my growing years--here she often talked of the -bright future with her beloved son. And they are both gone: their -shadows no longer cross the household floor; the roof tree no longer -echoes back their voices; their tongues are silent, and their smiles -are cold; and the place where they once dwelt, now knows them no more. -Thus, too, shall it be with me ere many years have passed; my joys, my -hopes, my affections shall soon be in the dust with theirs." - -Such were his thoughts as he sat there, though the room was full of -sunshine--though the object before his eyes were bright--though -one-and-twenty years were all that he had numbered. Judge then, dear -reader, whether _the spirit of the soul_ was not strong within him, -thus to rise and reprove the animal spirit, even at the very threshold -of youth. Each was indeed powerful: the elements of earthly and -immortal existence had been poured into him profusely; the eager, -impassioned, vehement being of this world, was met by the calm, grand, -mysterious essence of a higher sphere; and sometimes the impetuous -energy of the one, sometimes the stern majesty of the other, gained -the victory, and ruled the course of life. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - - -We will have done with the philosophy of the human heart; we will talk -no more of abstract sensations--at least, for the present; we will -enter into no further investigations of causes and effects; but -will tell a simple story to the end; never deviating into -discussions--except when it suits us; for, as the gentle reader is -well aware that resolutions, whether made by man or woman, are -intended from the very first to be broken, it would be hard upon a -poor writer to force him to keep his better than kings, or ministers, -or philosophers. - -The thoughtful fit into which Morley Ernstein had fallen did not last -long. The entrance of a servant dispelled it in a moment; and starting -up, as if half ashamed of the gloom that had fallen upon him, he -resumed the tone of ordinary life. Youth, with its consciousness, -feels as if man's bosom were but a glass case, where thoughts may be -examined like curious insects, and the young man doubted not that the -servant would see all that was passing within if he cleared not his -brow of the shadows that covered it. - -"Bring me round a horse!" he said; "I will ride out." And after taking -his hat, his gloves, and his cane, he went into the old portico before -the door, and sat down on one of the stone benches which flanked it on -either side. The air was warm and balmy, for it was the month of May, -the period of the year in which Morley had been born. There is surely -something in the season of our birth which transfuses itself into our -character, and, I have sometimes been inclined to think, influences -our fate. Byron was born in the dark and stormy winter; Napoleon, in -the fiery and blazing month of August. - -Morley had first seen the light in the fitful spring; and now, in that -month, when very often the heat of summer and the cold of winter -struggle with each other on alternate days, especially in the land -that gave him birth, he sat and watched the bright sunshine and the -dark cloud chase each other over the blue sky. The scene impressed -itself upon his heart and gave its hue to his feelings, for he was one -of those whose bosoms are like a deep, clear lake, reflecting vividly -the aspect of nature, except when the demon of the tempest sweeps over -it with his ruffling wing. He felt himself falling into a new fit of -thought, but resisted the inclination; and when the horse was brought -round, he sprang at once into the saddle, and struck the flank with -his heel. The animal darted forward, but instead of turning its head -towards the gate the rider took his way at full gallop across the -park, leaped the enclosure at a bound, and was soon out of the old -servant's sight, who beheld him depart, with the exclamation--"He is -but a boy after all!" - -There was as much envy and admiration as anything else in the old -man's speech; for who would not be a boy if they could?--who would not -go back to the freshness of early years?--who would not shake off the -burden of age and its heavy thoughts? At that very moment Morley was -flying from thoughts too old for his years; the animal spirit had -resumed its sway, and, in the fiery career of the high-bred beast he -rode, the energies of his own corporeal nature found exercise and joy. - -A little accident happened, however, almost at the outset of his ride, -which checked the speed at which he was flying over the country. We -have said he leaped the enclosure of the park at a bound; but he -certainly did so without thinking that any one might be upon the high -road at the other side. Such was the case, however; and, as Morley -Ernstein darted over the fence, he perceived a lady and a gentleman on -horseback, riding gently along. - -The sudden and unexpected apparition of a mounted horseman at full -speed, where there had been nothing but solitude the moment before, -made the lady start, but it made her horse start still more; and being -of that race of animals that is restive without being spirited, the -beast plunged, reared, and would have fallen backwards, but, as quick -as light, Morley was upon his feet by the lady's side, and with her -bridle in his firm, manly grasp. The horse became quiet instantly; it -seemed as if the animal felt at once that it could not resist; and -though it passaged away from him who held it, it no longer tried to -rear with that strong determination of crushing its fair rider which -it had shewn at first. - -The lady, however, agitated with all that had happened, slipped from -the saddle, quickly but gracefully, and of course Morley Ernstein -aided her to the best of his abilities, apologizing for frightening -her horse, and assuring her that the animal was now quiet, that the -danger was over, and adding a multitude of other things of the same -kind, in a breath. - -Our measures of time are all false and absurd together; we might -find a thousand better clocks than any that have ever been carried -up into the sky by a church steeple. Thoughts, feelings, passions, -events--these are the real moral time-keepers. What is to me the -ticking of a pendulum? There is many a five minutes, as they are -called when measured by that false scale, that form two-thirds of a -lifetime. One fortnight of existence has withered more than twenty -years, cast down the barrier between youth and age, and dried up the -fountains of the heart, like the simoon. - -It was not exactly thus with Morley Ernstein and the lady; but the -brief moments in which all passed that I have just narrated, comprised -for the young gentleman a world of other things besides. She was young -and very beautiful.--Is not that enough to load the wings of a single -minute with the thoughts of years, for a young man of one-and-twenty? -But that was not all; hers was the sort of beauty that he had always -most admired, most thought of, most wondered at. It was all gentleness -and brightness, but withal resplendent with high feeling and thought. -It was the mixture that we so seldom see of all that is lovely in mere -corporeal form and colouring: the rich contour, the flowing lines, the -warmth but softness of hue, the contrasted tints of the hair, the -eyes, the cheeks, the forehead, and the lips, with the lofty, yet -gentle, the tender, yet deep in expression. The young horseman had -remarked all this in a moment, and he had seen that beautiful face -agitated, that graceful form rendered more graceful by the effort to -keep her seat upon the vicious beast that bore her. At the same time, -the morning sun shone, mellowed through the foliage of a tree over -head, and cast that rich mysterious yellow light upon the whole scene -which is only produced when the sun-shine falls through the green -leaves that owe their brief and strange existence to his glorious -beams. That light seemed to give a peculiar lustre to her face--a -something that the youth, in his fond enthusiasm, could have fancied -unearthly, had not the soft hand that rested upon his as he aided her -to dismount, and the deep-drawn sigh of apprehension relieved, told -him that she was but a being of the same nature as himself. It was all -done in a moment, as I have said, and the manifold thoughts, or we may -call them impressions, which took place in his bosom, were like the -ripples of a moonlight sea; a thousand bright things received all at -once into the mind. - -Scarcely, however, had Morley Ernstein time to utter the few words -which have been mentioned when the lady's companion interposed, -saying--"At this time of the year sir, one does not expect to see -people flying over a park fence like madmen. The periodical season of -insanity--I mean the hunting season--is at an end, and I do not wonder -at the horse being surprised and alarmed." - -Morley turned his eyes suddenly to the speaker's face; but he was an -old man, with grey hair, and the youth had a certain foolish reverence -for age, which was much inculcated amongst those weak people, our -ancestors; though it has given way very generally now, under the -influence of improvement and the diffusion of knowledge. He refrained, -therefore, and strangled an angry reply between his teeth, merely -saying-- - -"I am extremely sorry I have alarmed the lady, and trust she will -forgive me. You still look frightened," he continued, addressing her -with a voice in which some young timidity, and the slight agitation of -admiration mixed strangely with a consciousness, not so much of varied -powers as of high purpose and noble feelings; "you still look -frightened, and somewhat faint. Were it not better for you to repose -for a moment at my house, hard by?" - -"At your house!" said the gentleman, with peculiar emphasis, and -gazing at him from head to foot; "I thank you, sir, but the lady can -very well pursue her ride. The horse, too, will be perfectly quiet, -unless he be again startled, and it is not reasonable to expect two -such pleasant occurrences in one day." - -The young lady bowed her head with a smile that seemed intended and -fully sufficient to compensate for the harsh coldness of her -companion. "I am not faint," she said--"a little frightened; but I can -well go on." She thanked him, too, for his kindness, in a somewhat -lower tone; not so low, indeed, as to be unheard by either of the two -who stood beside her, but still softened, and with somewhat of -timidity in her manner, as if she felt that what she said to the one -might not be pleasing to the other. - -Morley aided her to remount, and gave her the rein, for her companion -made no effort to assist her. As he did so, he gazed for one instant -in her face, and his eyes met the deep blue heavenly light of hers, -pouring through the dark lashes, like the first dawn of morning -through the clouds of night. It was but for an instant, and bowing her -head once more, she rode on, leaving him standing on the road, and -marvelling still at the bright vision which had thus crossed his path, -and vanished. Who has not, in his childhood, seen a shooting star -cross the sky and disappear, on a bright autumn night?--and who has -not then gazed long into the wide vacant heaven, to see if the shining -wanderer would not appear again? Thus gazed Morley Ernstein after the -fair being that had just left him, with that sort of admiration in -which wonder has so great a share. - -He stood motionless, his horse's bridle over one arm, his cane -drooping from his wrist, and his eyes fixed upon the receding figures, -till they reached an angle of the road. They were riding slowly, and -by no movement in either did it appear that they gave another thought -to what had occurred--to that momentary meeting which had furnished -him with so many thoughts. He had no reason to suppose they would. -Perhaps, indeed, with man's true perversity, Morley might have deemed -it not quite feminine if the lady had turned her head as she rode -away; but yet he was mortified that she did not do so; and sighed to -think that he should most likely never see her more. At the angle of -the road, however--it was, perhaps, some three hundred yards distant -from the spot where he stood, far enough, in short, to render features -indistinct, but not to hide the gestures of the body--the two riders -directed their course to the left, and then--but only for a single -instant, with a glance withdrawn as soon as given--the lady turned her -face towards the scene of the little incident which had delayed her on -her way. It was but for an instant, we have said; but Morley felt that -in that instant she must have seen him standing and gazing after her, -and in his young enthusiasm he could not but fancy that she must have -seen, too, the admiration she had excited in his bosom. - -Who could she be? he asked himself--Who and what? Was she the old -man's daughter? He did not like to think it was so. He persuaded -himself that it was not. There was not the slightest resemblance -between them; his aspect was harsh, and hers was gentle; his eyes were -dim, and hers were bright; his brow was brown and wrinkled, hers was -fair and smooth; his hair was gray, and hers--. But as he thus thought -he smiled at himself, seeing that all the differences he had found -might be solely those of age. "'Tis but that he is old and she is -young," he thought; "but no! there is no resemblance, and then the -voices were as different as the croak of the raven and the song of the -lark--the voice which is almost always hereditary." - -If not his daughter, who could she be? was the next question; and as -there is always in the bosom of every one, a ready devil to suggest -that which may torment us most, he next inquired, "May she not be -his wife?" In England, however, it is not so common as in other -countries--where marriages are mercantile transactions, and the altar -and the commune often become a mere slave-market--for men to marry -girls who might be their grand-daughters; and Morley Ernstein soon -determined that she could not be his wife. She might be cousin, niece, -connexion--anything, in short: but neither his daughter nor his wife. -His daughter! No, she was too lovely, too gentle, too bright, for the -same blood to run in her veins, and in the cold icehouse of her -companion's heart. His wife!--Heaven and earth! it was impossible! - -The young man mounted his horse, and rode on, but more slowly than -before. The very sight that he had seen had calmed him, for such is -generally the first effect of very exquisite beauty. There is power in -it as well as loveliness--we are impressed as much as attracted; it -awakens admiration before it excites passion, and, with love as with -the ocean, the calm precedes the storm. He rode on, then, -thoughtfully, and many were the workings of his spirit within him. - -Not long after, he reached a village, which stood upon his own -property; the cottagers were all people who had known him in his -youth, and though they had not seen him for six years, they all -remembered him well. It was, by this time, the peasant's hour of -dinner, but some one caught a sight of the young landlord as he -entered the place, and the tiding spread like lightning. Every door -had its occupants, and low courtesies and respectful bows greeted him -as he advanced. There was a kindliness in Morley's heart, that would -not let him deal coldly with any one; and, though he would fain have -gone on, thinking of the engrossing subject that had taken hold of -him, he could not resist the good cottagers' looks of recognition; -and, dismounting from his horse, he called a boy to lead it through -the village, while, walking from door to door, he spoke a few words to -his humble friends. - -"God bless him!" cried one, as soon as he had gone on; "he is a nice -young gentleman." - -"He is very like his father," observed another. "I remember his father -well." - -"He has got his mother's beautiful eyes, though," said a third. "Well, -I do think she was the prettiest creature I ever yet did see!" - -At the fourth or fifth cottage an idea seemed to strike Morley -Ernstein suddenly, and he asked if any of the inhabitants thereof had -seen a lady and a gentleman pass through the place on horseback, -intending to follow up that enquiry by demanding who they were. But he -got no satisfaction there. The cottager had been out in the fields, -his wife had been cooking the dinner, and no such persons as the young -gentleman described had been seen by either. He put the same question -again and again at other houses, but no tidings were to be obtained; -and, vexed and disappointed, he returned to his home and made -enquiries there. - -To the old servants he described the gentleman he had met with -accurately enough; on the lady he would not venture to say much, for -like all Englishmen he was keenly sensitive to a laugh, and feared to -awaken the least feeling of ridicule, even in the mind of a dependent. -He dwelt upon the person and dress of the horseman at large; but in -regard to the lady, added only that she was young and handsome. - -Human nature is very obtuse to description, and we seldom if ever find -any one who either attends to or applies the details that we give, -respecting any object which we wish to call up before the mind's eye -by means of the ear. Do not let poets or historians ever believe that, -by the lengthened descriptions they give, the reader ever becomes -impressed with the very scene or person that they themselves behold. -Oh, no! the reader manufactures a scene of his own, out of some of the -writer's words and many of his own imaginations or memories; or -fabricates a personage out of his own fancies and predilections; but -both scene and personage as unlike that which we have wished to -represent as possible. Thus was it, too, with Morley Ernstein and his -servants. One declared that the persons he had seen must be Mr. -Ferdinand Beckford and his young wife. Mr. Beckford was the good -priest of a neighbouring parish, and was just six-and-twenty years of -age. Another vowed that the horseman must be Mr. Thomas Ogden, Member -of Parliament for the town hard by, and the lady must be his wife. -Mrs. Ogden was somewhere between forty and fifty, and though she still -preserved a pretty face, her person was as round as a tub of Dutch -butter. A third insisted that it was Lawyer Chancery; but Ernstein -knew the lawyer, and replied--"Why he is six feet high, and I told you -this person was short." - -He saw that it was in vain to enquire further in that quarter, at -least; and he now resolved to pursue another plan, to reverse the -course of proceeding which he had proposed to follow, when he had -first arrived, and to visit immediately every gentleman's house within -twenty miles. His eager spirit would bear no delay, and before night -he had called on five or six of the principal personages in the -neighbourhood. All the gentlemen around declared that it was evident -Sir Morley Ernstein intended to be very sociable; and all the ladies, -who had daughters to marry, pronounced him a very charming young man; -but Morley did not find what he sought. - -He dined, wandered out through his beautiful park, hurried here and -there till bed-time, and then cast himself down to repose, but found -it not, thinking only of the places where he would call the next day, -and the chances of his finding the fair girl who had so much excited -his imagination. In short, _the spirit of the animal_ was triumphant -in his bosom for the time. Let us guard, however, the expression well -against mistake. Do not let it be supposed that one evil thought found -place in his bosom at that moment. He was far too young, and fresh in -heart, to admit aught to the council chamber of his bosom, which the -fair girl ho had seen might not herself have witnessed and approved, -even supposing her to be all that her countenance bespoke her--pure, -and bright, and holy, as the spirits of a better world. No! but we -still say that the spirit of the animal was triumphant--the eager, -active, impetuous spirit, the same that leads the lion to rush after -his prey, the same that carries the warrior through the battle -field--the spirit of this world's things, of mortal hopes, and -passions, and affections--the spirit which, in all its shapes, in all -its forms, in camps and cities, courts and cabinets, gaining both high -worldly renown and the visionary immortality of fame, is still but an -animal energy--the spirit of dust and ashes. - -Early the next morning he rose and pursued his eager course; another -and another round of hours and visits succeeded, till at length he had -called on every one that he could hear or think of, within the reach -of a lady's riding, and yet he had neither seen, nor obtained the -least intelligence of the horseman and his fair companion. The -disappointment but excited him the more for some days, and he left no -means untried to relieve himself from the irritable curiosity into -which he had wrought himself. - -Still, all excitements come to an end; and in time he learned to feel -angry at himself for what he began to call boyish enthusiasm. He felt -somewhat disgusted with the life of the country, however; and as the -London season was then at its height, and everybody was carrying up -their stock of faults and follies to that great mart of wickedness and -vanity, from the less profitable markets of the country, he determined -to see what was passing in the metropolis, and to take his part in all -its energetic idleness. Be it said to his honour that he knew London -well, and loved it not; but he had seen it only as a boy, under the -somewhat rigid tutelage of others, and he was now to see it as a man, -master of himself and of a princely fortune. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -Scarcely had Morley's visits in the country been paid, when first came -four invitations to dinner, and then a grand ball was determined on by -a lady, who lived near the county town, and had four sons and six -daughters. Who can tell whether Morley Ernstein's appearance in the -neighbourhood had aught to do with all these gay affairs? Old Miss -Cumbertown, who had seen sixty and more drying summers and freezing -winters pass over her, till all the sweeter essences of her nature -were parched up to a dry haricot, muttered and grinned at all she -heard, and prognosticated that the young gentleman would not be caught -yet awhile. She knew well what it was to be disappointed in the -attempt to catch a lover; and when she heard, some days after this, -that the young master of Morley Court had declined all invitations, -announcing that he was about to go to town on the very day the first -dinner-party was to take place, she grinned a thousand times more. It -is so pleasant to see other people visited by the same misfortunes -that have fallen upon ourselves! - -In the meantime the young gentleman was totally unconscious that there -was anything like a design upon him in any of the five invitations, or -that he was creating the least disappointment in the inviters; -although they did not fail to believe--for cunning always fancies -itself opposed by cunning--that he partly saw through their devices. - -"Oh, he gives himself great airs!" said one. - -"I suppose we must beg his company in very humble terms," cried -another. - -But, as we have before declared, Morley was quite unconscious of. -offence, and never once recollected the fact either of his having the -command of a number of votes for the county, or of his being an -eligible match for any lady in the land. Indeed, he thought not at all -of any man's daughter in Europe, except, indeed, of her whose birth, -parentage, and education, he had not been able to discover. - -After he had settled the period of his journey, the next thing was to -settle the mode of travelling. It was very natural that, with great -wealth in possession, which he had never been allowed fully to enjoy, -he should dream of tasting the sweets of it in every possible manner, -and that the chariot-and-four should first present itself to his -imagination, as the only fitting way for him to seek the capital. He -had very nearly given orders for the horses, and had visions of going -at least thirteen miles an hour. Rapidity of motion is one of the -inherent joys of youth and vigour--it may be called, almost, a -necessity, and Morley was one of those who enjoy to the highest -extent that peculiar sensation which is produced by the rapid passing -of the fair objects of nature before the eye; tower and town, and -church-steeple, and green fields, and bright rivers, and tall trees, -and rich woods, resting just long enough upon the organs of vision to -call up sweet, but undefined imaginations, and then passing away--like -distant music which swells and falls upon the ear, bringing back -vaguely airs that we have heard elsewhere, and leaving fancy to play -them to an end. - -He forgot, however, to give the order for the horses at the hour of -dinner, and afterwards he strolled out into the country round, and -visited the cottages of some of the peasantry who were reported to be -in a state of great poverty. He now saw real misery, for the first -time, and it had a powerful effect upon him. We have not space, dear -reader, to enter into the details; to paint the pale face of squalid -misery, and the eager anxious eyes of hopeless destitution. Suffice -it, that Morley Ernstein was young; his heart had not been hardened in -the furnace of the world, and it was not originally formed of that -adamantine stuff, called selfishness. He was not, as some, lavish in -his bounty, from mere want of any principle of action whatsoever; but -he relieved the unhappy people fully, and on his return home, gave -such directions, as to prevent their falling back into misery again -during his absence, except by their own fault. - -After this was done, he sat and thought, and ended, by ordering a -servant to go to the neighbouring town, and secure him a place in the -stage-coach to London. His scheme of travelling had been changed by -his visit to the poor; but not in the manner, or from the motives that -many persons may imagine. It was not that he proposed to save small -sums out of a princely fortune, for the purpose of devoting the whole -of that fortune to the poor, for Morley knew right well that the -industrious mechanic, the artisan, the farmer, the builder--all, in -short, who contribute by the labour of their hands and minds to the -convenience, comfort, and welfare of their fellow-creatures, have a -first claim upon those to whom God has entrusted the distribution of -great wealth. He believed that though the poor, the honest and worthy -poor, must be supplied, must be cared for--that though it is a duty to -make up, by active charity, for the inequalities and accidents that -the fundamental constitution of society, and the very nature of man -must always produce--still the industrious of all classes have their -great primary right, which ought to be attended to. It was not that -the actual sight of misery made him purpose to deny himself anything -that was rational and just in the station in which he was placed, or -resolve to refrain from any expense which might encourage the -industrious in all classes, but that sight had called up _the spirit -of the soul_ to speak within him, and to check the animal spirit which -had fired his imagination. After he returned from those poor cottages, -he found no pleasure in the idea of the gay postilions and foaming -horses; his mind took a sadder, a more thoughtful tone. He felt almost -ashamed of the bright eagerness of pampered life in the presence of -the dim eyes and tear-stained cheeks of misery. His whole scheme -changed. "I will go to the capital," he said, "quietly and modestly. I -will not present myself in that gay place as the rich man, coming to -enjoy, but as the thoughtful man, going to examine and to consider. I -will not, indeed, conceal myself; but I will retire rather than -advance, till I have good cause to do so. I will seek to find friends -rather than to make acquaintances, and rather than simply endeavour to -spend my income, I will endeavour to spend it well." - -Nothing occurred to check _the spirit of the soul_, and he continued -in the same mood till the stage-coach passed by the gates of his park, -the next day. A number of passengers covered the outside of the -vehicle, so that there was no room for him in that part which -Englishmen always choose in preference to the interior, as if they -loved the dust of summer, the rain of autumn and spring, and the cold -winds of winter, better than any other of the enjoyments of those -seasons. To foreigners this seems an extraordinary taste; but the -origin of it probably is that the Englishman, who pushes almost all -his affections to extravagance, loves, with a vehemence that few other -people can feel, the free air of heaven. Morley would willingly have -changed places with the poorest traveller on the outside of the coach; -but as that could not be done, he took his seat in solitude in the -interior, where he found plenty of room for thought, there being -nobody within it but himself. - -The coach rolled on with a celerity which no one who has not travelled -in one of those small, inconvenient, but wonderfully rapid, vehicles, -can imagine to be produced by any animal under the sun. The nearer -objects flew past like lightning, the further ones kept gradually -changing their place with a quickness proportioned to their respective -distances from the coach, which, for its part, like the mind of a vain -man, seemed the centre of a circle round which all other objects were -running; and Morley's impetuosity was well nigh satisfied with the -rate of progression at which they were going. - -After all, movement is the grand principle of animal life; it runs in -our veins, it beats in our hearts, it advances with our ideas, it -enters into every change, is more rapid in youth, slower in infancy -and age, fails as desires are extinguished or objects wanting, grows -dull in sickness, pauses in sleep, and ends alone in death. - -After driving on at the same pace for three-quarters of an hour, -during which, Morley gave himself up to the sort of dreamy pleasure -which I have mentioned, of feeling himself whirled on through a -thousand beautiful objects, the coach stopped to change horses, and -one of the travellers from the outside came in, and took his seat by -the previously solitary tenant of the interior. - -"It is as hot as if it were summer on the outside," he said, -addressing nobody, "and the seat I had got was so unpleasant, that I -am not sorry to quit it." - -Morley did not answer; but--with the sort of habitual coldness which -affects almost all Englishmen, in part pride, in part timidity, in -part contempt for all other beings than themselves, in part fear that -others should entertain the same contempt for them--he sat silent, -gazing out of the window, following his own meditations, and quite -willing that his travelling companion should follow his likewise. - -The personage who had entered was not one, however, that had anything -repulsive in his manners or appearance. He was tall, gracefully -formed, with an air of distinction, and a countenance often full of -fire and animation, although the habitual expression was that of quick -but easy-flowing thought. His brow was high and fine, his eyes -peculiarly large and bright, and his hair strongly curled; the only -feature in his face which could be termed even not good, was the -mouth, the lips being somewhat thick and heavy. His complexion was -dark, and the skin very brown, apparently with exposure to the air and -sun, but the whole exterior was extremely pleasing; and had Morley -looked at him at all, he would in all probability have spoken in -return; but the young gentleman did not look at him, and the stranger, -after pausing for a moment, spoke again--resolved, it would seem, to -make some impression upon his temporary companion. - -"Pray, whose house is that?" he demanded, pointing to a handsome -mansion on the right. - -"I do not know," replied Morley, turning round, and gazing at him, for -the first time. - -"Indeed!" said the stranger; "I thought you were well acquainted with -this country. The coachman told me that you were Sir Something -Ernstein, and that the park, at the gates of which we took you up, -belongs to you." - -Morley smiled. "It is all very true," he answered; "but, nevertheless, -I do not know. I have not been in this part of England for six or -seven years." - -The stranger mused; but between two men not absolutely repulsive in -themselves, nor particularly disposed by any circumstances mutually to -repel each other--the poles of whose minds, in short, are not -reversed--conversation soon establishes itself after a few words have -been spoken. A single syllable will often do the whole with people -whose characters are well balanced, and a word act like the hair -trigger of a pistol, upon which hangs the fate of a life. - -Oh, how strange and complicated is the web of God's will! How the -smallest, the most pitiful, the most empty of things, by his great and -wise volition, act their part in mighty changes! How a look, a tone, a -sound, a pebble in our path, a grain of dust in our eyes, a headache, -a fit of gloom, a caprice, a desire, may not only change the whole -current of one man's existence, but affect the being of states and -empires, and alter human destinies to the end of time! The present -state of France, the whole mass of facts, circumstances, incidents, -accidents, and events, which are there going on, may all be owing to a -lady, whom I knew well, having splashed her stocking fifty years ago. - -"As how, in the name of Heaven?" demands the reader. - -Thus! She was going out of her house with a relation in the town of -Douai, when, carelessly putting her foot on a stone, she splashed her -stocking. She went back to change it; the delay occupied a quarter of -an hour. When she went on again, she met, at the corner of the -_Place_, a man, since too famous in history, then scarcely known as -anything but a clever fop. His name was Francis Maximilian -Robespierre. Instead of going on, he turned with her and her relation, -and walked up and down the _Place_ with them for half an hour. In one -of the houses hard by, a debating society was in the act of canvassing -some political question. As they passed to and fro, Robespierre -listened at the door from time to time, and at length, pronouncing the -debaters to be all fools together, he rushed in to set them right. -From that moment, he entered vehemently into all the fiery discussions -which preceded the revolution, in which he had never taken part -before, and grasped at power, which opened the doors of the cage, and -let out the tiger in his heart. Thus, had the lady not splashed her -stocking, she would not have met the future tyrant; he would have -pursued his way, and would not have turned back to the _Place_; he -would never have heard the debate that first called him into action, -for he was going to quit Douai the next day, and who can say how that -one fact, in the infinite number of its combinations with other -things, might have affected the whole social world at present? - -The stranger mused, as we have said, but after a moment's thought, he -replied, in a meditative tone-- - -"How strange is the sensation when, after a long absence from -any place, we return to it suddenly! How different everything -appears!--how shrunk, and changed, and withered, seem many objects -that we thought beautiful and bright!--how many a light gone out!--how -many a sweet sound silent! I believe that it is very happy for us that -in point of time we cannot go back again, as we can in space." - -"Nay, I do not think so," answered Morley, growing interested in his -companion's conversation; "I cannot, indeed, judge from experience, -but I should imagine that many an old man would willingly return to -the days of his youth; that every man, indeed, when he finds life -beginning to lose its energies, health failing, the muscle relaxing, -the eye growing dim, the limbs feeble, would willingly go back to the -time when all were in their perfection." - -"They would do so willingly, beyond all doubt," replied his companion; -"but whether they would do so wisely is another thing. We all wish to -see again the scenes of our boyhood, when we have been separated from -them long; but when we are gratified, we are always disappointed." - -Morley smiled, to find the stranger speaking to all his late -sensations, as if he would have divined them; but he only enquired-- - -"Always?" - -"Always, I think," said the other; "because it is in the nature of -things that it should be so. Enjoyment is a harmony--the person that -is pleased with anything and the object of his pleasure must be -adapted to each other. Thus the boy loves a particular scene of his -youth, returns to it as a man, and does not find the same delight; not -because it is changed, but because it has remained the same, and he is -altered; he has lost his fitness for it. It suited the boy; but it no -more suits the man than would the wooden sword and the rocking horse." - -"I do not know," replied Morley, "but I should think that the memory -of enjoyment would make up for the change in his own nature. Memory is -the hope of the past, and both brighten the objects that they rest -upon." - -"True!" answered his companion; "but then that which he enjoys is not -the same, but the memory of his own pleasure therein. Oh no! the life -of man is still, forward--forward! Each period of existence, -doubtless, has its powers and its joys, as well as its hopes and its -desires." - -"But I have heard many that I have loved and respected, declare," said -Morley, "that in their own case the pure joys of youth were those on -which memory had rested through life with the greatest satisfaction." - -"Simply because they were the furthest off," replied the other; "but -why call them the pure joys of youth? I do not see why they should be -purer than those of any other period. Surely all joys are pure--I mean -those that are not criminal. Anything that gives me pleasure, or by -which I can give others pleasure, and which injures no one, is just as -pure as the gathering of a flower, or the pruning of a tree--certainly -more pure than crucifying a worm upon a hook, or shooting an -inoffensive bird, or many another of those sports and pastimes of -which youth is fond." - -Morley was silent for some little time; he felt that there was -something dangerous in his companion's doctrines, if pushed to the -extreme; but still, as far as he had expressed them, there was nothing -Of which he could take hold. The other seemed to perceive, with fine -tact, that the young man who sat beside him, had taken alarm at the -indefinite nature of his argument, and he added in haste-- - -"You will understand that I mean strictly to limit enjoyment to that -which is not criminal--which is not wrong--in short, all I mean to say -is, that the wisest plan for man to pursue is, to go on without ever -turning back his eyes to the past; to enjoy all that is natural for -his period of life, without regretting others that are gone. Each -pleasure is as a precious stone, picked up upon the sea-shore, a thing -to be treasured by memory; but because we find an emerald at one -moment, that is no reason why we should neglect the diamond that we -find the next, or the ruby that comes a little further on. Our -capabilities of enjoyment were intended to be used, and he who does -not do so, fails to fulfil one of the great obligations of his -nature." - -Morley was better satisfied, but still not completely so; and had he -been older and more experienced, he might have thought that his -conversation with his travelling companion, is like that which -Conscience and Desire sometimes hold together, when temptation is very -strong. Desire still finds an argument to lead us up to the very verge -of wrong, assuring Conscience all the time that we are upon the safe -ground of right, and trusting to some momentary impulse to make us -leap the barrier when we have reached it. - -Morley, however, was too young, too inexperienced, and be it added, -too innocent even in heart, to have had many such debates with -conscience, and to be experimentally acquainted with the tactics of -temptation. There was certainly something in his companion's arguments -which did not satisfy, but at the same time there was a peculiar charm -in his manner, in his conversation, in his very look, which made words -that might otherwise have failed to produce any effect, now sink into -the mind, and remain, like seeds, to produce fruit at a future period. - -The manner and the look that we have just spoken of, were certainly -very fascinating apart, but still more so together; not so much -because they harmonized as because they differed. The manner was -gentle, soft, and though full of rapid thought, yet easy, and glowing -with a sort of conviction that made assent easy; and yet there was -nothing in the least presumptuous in it. On the contrary--indeed, -every word appeared to be spoken, more as a suggestion than a -decision; while the soft richness of the speaker's voice seemed -calculated to persuade and lead. The look on the other hand was full -of quick vivacity and fire--the eye brightened up at a word, the lip -changed its expression twenty times in a minute, and withal there was -an air of reckless joyousness, of rapid careless quickness, which -contrasted wonderfully with the metaphysical themes he touched upon, -and by contrast, gave the stronger effect to his deeper thoughts. - -That he was a man of station and high breeding one would scarcely -doubt; and in his dress there was that scrupulous neatness which is -one of the distinguishing marks of a gentleman in youth. In older -life, a man may well lose a part of that attention to his apparel -which no young man should be without; but before the grand passage of -forty-five, no one should deem himself old enough to go out in a bad -hat if he can get a good one, or wear ill-blacked boots. The neatness -of his dress did not at all approach to puppyism, but every article of -his clothing was so well adapted to the other, that the whole -harmonized perfectly, and gave that peculiar and undefinable tone to -his appearance which has a vague sort of connexion with the mind -within, a reflection perhaps we might call it, of the habitual -thoughts and feelings influencing the dress without the wearer knowing -it. Man is but a species of chameleon, in general taking all his tints -from the things that surround him; but when these fail--like the stalk -of the balsam plant--his external colouring is affected by that which -passes within; and a man's fondness for particular hues, or sounds, or -scents, is often no bad indication of the character of his mind. - -Morley Ernstein felt not a little impressed in favour of the stranger. -He was, indeed, not without strong good sense himself, but still there -was a charm that he could not resist; and never dreaming that he was -doing aught but passing agreeably an hour which might otherwise have -proved tedious, he soon renewed the conversation, but on a different -subject. - -Let no one, however, venture to think that even a brief half-hour's -conversation with another man of strong mind can be a matter of mere -indifference--indeed, I know not that it ever is so, with any one, -wise or foolish, ugly or pretty, good or bad. We are all nothing but -traders in this world, mere hucksters, travelling packmen, with a -stock continually changing, increasing, diminishing. We go forth into -the world carrying a little wallet of ideas and feelings; and with -every one to whom we speak for a moment, we are trafficking in those -commodities. If we meet with a man of wisdom and of virtue, sometimes -he is liberal, and supplies us largely with high and noble thoughts, -receiving only in return sweet feelings of inward satisfaction; -sometimes, on the other hand, he will only trade upon equal terms, and -if we cannot give him wisdom for wisdom, shuts up his churlish shop -and will deal with us no more. If we go to a bad man we are almost -always sure to be cheated in our traffic, to get evil or useless -wares, and often those corrupted things which, once admitted to our -stock, spread the mould and mildew to all around. Often, often, too, -in our commerce with others do we pay for the poisons which we buy as -antidotes, all that we possess of good, both in feeling and idea. But -when we sit down by beauty, and gentleness, and virtue, what a world -of sweet images do we gain for the little that we can give in -exchange! Ay, and even in passing a few light moments with a dear, -innocent child, how much of bright and pure do we carry away in -sensation!--how much of deep and high may we gain in thought! Oh -no!--it is no indifferent thing, with whom we converse, if ideas be -the riches of the spirit. - -Thoughtful men, and men of rapid combinations, are almost always -abrupt in conversation. A topic is started, two of them pursue it like -hunters for some time together, mutually hallooing on one another; but -the time comes when they separate, ride rapidly on alone, till they -have run down the game, and then they come back to rouse a new quarry. -Thus Morley Ernstein had soon got far away from the subject of their -former discourse; and had followed the thoughts suggested by it to an -end, with many a collateral idea likewise, before he spoke again. When -he did so, it was merely of an object that attracted the corporeal -eye. - -"What a beautiful sunset!" he said, gazing out of the window of the -coach towards a spot where, through a break in the large wood by which -they were passing, the last rays of day were streaming in floods of -gold and crimson, seeming to make the forest air thick and misty with -light--"What a beautiful sunset! Might not one imagine the glades of -that wood filled at this moment with every sort of fairy and fanciful -being, to which the curious superstitions of old times gave birth?" - -"One might, indeed!" replied the stranger. "It is a haunt formed -expressly for the 'good people,' as you call them, in this country. -Here the belief in such beings is very nearly extinct, even in the -lowest classes. In my country, such is by no means the case; and there -is scarcely one of us, whatever be his grade, in whose bosom, if you -were able to search into all its hidden corners, you would not find -some belief--ay, and a strong belief, too--not only in the existence -of spirits, but in their assuming tangible forms and opening a -communication with man." - -"Are you not an Englishman, then?" demanded Morley, with so much -astonishment in his countenance at the discovery that one who spoke -his own difficult tongue so well was from another country, as to call -up a smile upon the lip of his companion--"Are you not an Englishman, -then?" - -"No!" replied the stranger; "I am not; but some foreigners can speak -your language tolerably, especially when they have lived long in the -land. But, as I was saying, there are very few persons in Germany who -are totally free from such a belief; and, indeed, it is scarcely -reasonable to suppose, if we admit there is another order of created -beings above ourselves, that there should be no means whatever of -communication between the two next links in the same great chain. I -confess, that I cannot conceive such a thing possible. If there be -such things as spirits--if all be not merely material in this moving -clay, there must be some means by which the superhuman being can make -his presence felt and known to his fellow spirit in the earthly -tabernacle. All our great men have certainly believed such to be the -case. Who can read either Goëthe or Schiller, without perceiving that -creed peeping through philosophy, and wit, and history, and poetry?" - -"Oh, Goëthe certainly entertained such feelings!" replied Morley. "It -was impossible for any one so to extract intense sublimity from human -superstitions, without being tinctured with them strongly himself. Had -Goëthe written whole volumes to prove that everything is material, a -few lines of the choruses in Faust would have shewn him to be -insincere." - -"The picture of Mephistophiles himself," said his companion, "were -surely quite enough." - -"Yes," replied Morley; "and yet there are parts of the character of -Mephistophiles which I do not clearly understand. He is all-powerful -over Faust, and yet seems subservient to him. He appears at his -command, obeys his behests, and yet leads, directs, and overpowers -him." - -"In short," replied his companion, "he serves but to command; and, -depend upon it, whether it be an allegory or a portrait, the picture -is a true one. It may be, that the great poet meant to represent the -power of the passions. But I imagine that he drew, almost by -inspiration, the likeness of that mighty being, whose fate and -character have been summed up by Milton, in the words-- - - - 'Evil, be thou my good!' - - -You must remember, that the infinite variety of that being is as -wonderful as his power. Milton might draw one portrait; Goëthe -another: both different, but both alike. If Goëthe really meant a -picture rather than an allegory, he shewed that Mephistophiles had -bound himself simply to serve, for a certain time, the views of a vast -mind which otherwise might have escaped him. He ruled Faust by his -wisdom, governed, directed him--ay, even enlightened him; but the -spirit adapted himself to the mortal with whom he had to deal. Even by -the very tone of sadness that pervades the character of -Mephistophiles, the gravity that is in his mirth, the depth that is -below his lightness, he was fitted to deal with Faust. Had the -character of the man been different, so would have been the character -of the spirit. The Magician had power over the finer essence for the -time, and the prince of one class of spirits willingly devoted himself -to the service and instruction of a mortal--nay, more, it is evident, -as far as he could feel affection or pity for a being so placed as -Faust, he felt it for him." - -"But," exclaimed Morley, "do you imagine Satan to be capable of -affection and pity?" - -"Why not?" demanded his companion--"more, in all probability, than -beings that have never known sorrow or pain." - -"You seem inclined to defend the Prince of Darkness!" rejoined Morley, -with a smile. - -"Certainly!" answered his companion, laughing--"if I did not defend -him, no one else would; and I am always inclined to take part with the -weaker side." - -Almost as the stranger spoke, the coach which had been going down a -long hill with terrible rapidity, swayed from side to side for a -moment, like a ship in a stormy sea. A violent concussion then took -place as the vehicle, in turning the corner of a bridge, struck a -large stone, and the next instant Morley felt that the carriage was -going over towards the side on which he sat. He had but time by one -hasty glance to see that the low parapet of the bridge was close to -the wheels, when the stage went over; the stones gave way beneath it, -and the whole mass rolled headlong into the river below. It fell upon -the top, and struck the stones in the bed of the stream. The -concussion was terrible--the carriage was nearly dashed to pieces, and -Morley Ernstein only felt one violent blow, only saw a thousand bright -sparks flash from his own eyes, and then lost all consciousness, even -that of pain. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - -The sensations of Morley Ernstein, when he returned to consciousness, -were all of the most unpleasant kind. There was a numbness over his -whole body, and a feeling of tingling from head to foot, which, to -those who have not felt it, may be difficult, if not impossible to -describe. A violent weighty pain in the head too, a sluggish -oppression at the heart, and a great difficulty in drawing the breath, -all made the consciousness of life so burdensome, that, when he saw a -number of people standing round the bed in which he had been placed, -and employing every means that art could devise and skill execute, to -restore him entirely to life, he could not but feel a desire that they -would let him alone, and leave him to that quiet insensibility from -which they were taking such pains to rouse him. For the moment it -seemed to him that death was a very pleasant thing; and he who, full -of health, life, and buoyant youth, had thought half an hour before -that there would be nothing more awful than to lie "in cold -obstruction and to rot," now that he had become more familiar with -"the lean, abhorred monster," felt not the same repugnance, and almost -longed for the still quiet of the grave. Life and death are the two -grand adversaries; fighting incessantly for the kingdom of man's body, -and in proportion as the dominion of Life in us is powerful, so is our -reluctance to yield ourselves to her enemy. - -Such as I have mentioned were the first feelings of Morley Ernstein; -but, as life came back more fully--as he felt his heart beat more -freely, his benumbed frame regain its true sensations, his bosom heave -with the unrestrained breath--his love for the bright angel, and his -abhorrence for her dark opponent, returned in full force; and he could -feel grateful to those who were giving him back to all the warm -associations of earthly being. His eyes wandered round the little -circle that encompassed his bed; but all the faces were strange, -except one--that of his travelling companion in the stage-coach; who, -amongst the most eager, and the most busy, was superintending with -active skill the execution of every mandate pronounced by the lips of -a tall, thin, yellow-faced man in black, that sat by the side of the -bed near the head. All eyes were fixed upon the patient, with a look -of interest in his fate and satisfaction at the change that was coming -over him; but the moment he attempted to speak, every one raised a -finger to the lip, in order to impose silence upon him. - -"You may take away the salt from under the shoulders," said the thin -yellow man; "circulation is coming back rapidly. Keep the hot water to -the feet, however, and bring me a little Madeira, Mr. Jones. We must -give it him by teaspoonfuls. Your friend, sir, will do," he continued, -speaking to Morley's travelling companion; "but we must be very -careful!--very careful, indeed! I knew a poor fellow once, who died, -when every one thought him quite recovered, merely from the people -imprudently raising him up in bed.--Pray do not move a muscle, sir!" -he added, seeing that the young gentleman himself was evidently -listening to all he said. - -"You have had a very narrow escape, sir--a very narrow escape, indeed; -and the least thing may undo all we have done. I never knew, in my -life, a case of suspended animation, where a relapse did not prove -fatal.--Oh, the Madeira!--now, sir--a teaspoonful every five minutes!" - -From all that Morley Ernstein saw and heard, he judged rightly that he -had undergone, and perhaps required, the treatment applied to persons -who are apparently drowned. He learned, moreover, in the course of the -evening, that, at the moment that he had received the severe blow on -the head, which had deprived him of sensation, the carriage had sunk -deep in the water, and that he would have infallibly perished had it -not been for the exertions of his fellow-traveller, who, not being -stunned as he was, had soon perceived that he remained under the -water, and had dragged him out, through the door of the broken -vehicle. He was quite insensible, however, when brought to land, and -remained so for nearly an hour, although every means of resuscitation -were skilfully employed. - -The dangers of our poor friend were not by any means over when life -once more bounded freely in his bosom. The headache which he had felt, -on first recovering his senses, increased every minute; and ere the -next morning, violent fever and delirium had succeeded. For ten days -he hung between life and death; but the thin yellow man, whom he had -seen sitting by his bedside, was, in truth, a surgeon of great skill; -and the unwearied care and attention of his fellow-traveller, whose -whole interest in him was only that which could be excited by the -companionship of a few short hours, did as much as art to withdraw him -from this new danger. - -When the young gentleman recovered sufficiently to comprehend what was -passing around him, he found another face by his bedside, better known -than that of any one near. His old servant, Adam Gray, had been -brought, it seemed, from the mansion to attend upon his young master, -at a period when very little hope was entertained of his recovery, and -for the four last days he had been employed in aiding the stranger in -his care of the patient. - -Every writer who has ever taken a pen in hand has written, and every -heart, even the most selfish, has felt, how sweet is the sight of a -familiar face in times of sorrow, sickness, or difficulty; so that the -observation is trite enough, and yet few have analyzed the sensations -which that familiar face produces, or told us why we love to see it -better than fairer countenances, or even those that express as great -an interest in us. It is that a familiar face comes loaded with those -sweet associations of other times, which are no mean medicaments to -the body or the mind. There is a light of hope upon it, reflected from -those past days, which seems to brighten all the dark spots in the -present; and such was the sight of that old man's countenance to -Morley Ernstein. It brought to him the recollections of his early -years, a feeling of balmy spring, the thoughts of health and rural -sports, and many bright hours long gone; and from the moment that he -saw him hovering round his sick bed, the sensation of convalescence -came upon him, and he could say to himself, "I am getting well." - -Ere long, conversation was allowed him, and he soon found the -opportunity of doing that which he had more than once wished to do, -while the grave doctor and the officious nurse had continued to impose -silence upon him--namely, to thank the man, who, on so slight an -acquaintance, had tended him with the care and kindness of a brother. -His travelling companion, who had been absent for about an hour, -entered the room, shortly after the permission to speak was granted -him, and took his seat by the bedside in which he now sat up, while -the balmy air of the first days of June found their way in through the -open window of the little inn. Morley lost not the occasion, and -expressed, as he well could do, in the fine eloquent language of the -heart, the feelings of gratitude, which he experienced for all the -generous kindness that had been shown him. - -"Mention it not!--mention it not!" replied the stranger; "I have no -title to thanks whatsoever; I did it for my own gratification, solely -and simply, and consequently have no right to claim or to receive -gratitude." - -"Nay, nay," said Morley, "I have heard of such disclaimers before, my -good friend, and know that some men always put good actions upon -selfish motives, when they perform them themselves. But the way I -distinguish is, to ask whether, abstracted from the pleasure of doing -good, this man or that, who denies the merit of all he has done, would -have so acted. This man jumps into a river, to save a child from -drowning; that visits a prison, to give comfort to a sick man--would -the one have plunged into the water with his clothes on merely for -amusement, or the other have spent an hour in the prison if no sick -man had been there? If the pleasure felt be derived solely from the -goodness of the action, the man who experiences it is a good man, and -well deserving the gratitude and admiration of his fellows. You saved -my life, the landlord informs me, by dragging we out of the carriage -while it was under water, and--" - -"Yes, that is true," replied his companion, half laughing; "I did. -indeed, as Sheridan called it, play the Newfoundland dog, when I found -you were likely to be drowned unless assisted; but that is all, and -surely that is little enough. I have done the same for a fly in a -cream jug." - -"But you have never stayed three weeks in a country inn," answered -Morley, smiling, "to nurse a fly in a fever; and for that, at least, -you deserve my deepest gratitude." - -"Not at all!" answered his friend--"not at all! Even on your own -principles, you owe me no thanks. I never thought whether I was doing -a good action or not. In regard to the first of your mighty -obligations, that of staying three weeks in a country inn, it might -truly have been a great tax upon me under some circumstances; but just -at that time, I had nothing on earth to do. I was going back to London -out of pure weariness of the place I was in; for in general, I never -am in town before the first or second of June. Here I have had fine -air, fine scenery, and a fine trout-stream. What would you have more? -Then as to watching and taking care of you in your delirium, I have no -merit there: the truth is, I am fond of all strong emotions, and the -watching you, the wondering whether you would live or die, the changes -of your countenance, the gray shade that would sometimes come over -your face, the flush of fever, the restless tossing to and fro--and -then, again, the gambling, as it were, each moment in my own mind for -your life?-all this was surely excitement enough. Besides your -delirium was worth any money. There is something so strange and -fantastic in the ravings of a man in fever--very much more curious and -metaphysical than mere madness. In madness, one always finds one -strong predominant idea; but in delirium it is as if all the ideas of -a lifetime were mixed in one wild chaos. Nor Talma, nor Schroeder, nor -Malibran, could have afforded me so much interest as you in your -delirium." - -"You have a strange taste," replied Ernstein, not altogether well -pleased, in the first instance, at the explanation of his companion's -feelings. A moment's reflection, however, convinced him that there was -some affectation in the account, but that the affectation was of that -generous kind which seeks to diminish the value of an obligation -conferred upon another, even at the risk of appearing hard or selfish. -"Well," he continued, "your motives are your own affairs; but the -kindness you have shown me is mine, and I must feel gratitude -accordingly." - -While they were still speaking, the surgeon again entered, and his -appearance put a stop to the conversation for the night. On the -following morning, however, the patient was so far better as to be -permitted to rise for a short time, and his fellow-traveller visited -him towards the middle of the day, announcing that he came to bid him -farewell, as he had just received letters which summoned him to -London. "I do not go unwillingly," he continued, "for my plan of life -is ever to hasten forward. Existence is so short that we have no time -for long pauses anywhere; each joy of each period--each thought, each -feeling of each period of animal being should be tasted, or they will -be lost, for we must never forget the great axiom, that every minute -we are a minute older." - -"But do you not think," said Morley, "that we may sometimes, in our -haste, taste a bitter instead of a sweet?" - -"So much the better--so much the better," replied his friend, -laughing; "it is by such things that we become wise. I am quite of the -opinion of your great poet, Coleridge, that-- - - - 'The strongest plume in Wisdom's wing - Is memory of past folly;' - - -and depend upon it every man will find in life, that to be very wise, -he must be a little foolish. The child that does not cut its finger -before it is eight years old, will cut its hand by the time it is -twelve, and perhaps its throat by the time it is twenty. What I mean -is--for I see you are surprised--that we must learn what is evil or -dangerous, by that acquaintance with evil and danger which is fitted -for our time of life, otherwise we are sure to get our portion all at -once, at some after period. It is like one of those medicines which -doctors tell us accumulate in the system, and kill us suddenly when we -least expect it; or rather, like one of those Eastern drugs, which are -very salutary when we take a little of them every day, but utterly -poisonous if we take a large dose at once." - -"Might it not be better for a healthy person to take none at all?" -demanded Morley; and added, the moment after, seeing his companion -about to reply, "but I am not fit to argue to-day, though I think that -your system has some flaws in it." - -"Doubtless--doubtless," replied the other. "It would not be a human -system if it had not. Heaven forbid that I should originate a perfect -system of any kind! I would not commit such a crime for the world. I -will only answer your question, therefore, by saying, that if we were -on this earth in a healthy state, as your words suppose, it would -certainly be very foolish to take drugs of any kind; but depend upon -it, a portion of physic, and a portion of evil, are reserved for every -man to take, to suffer, to commit, and he had better spread them over -as wide a space as possible, that they may not be too thick anywhere. -And now I must leave you, for the coach will soon pass." - -"But," said Morley, eagerly, "I must ask you first, to tell me where I -can find you in London, for you will let me hope that an acquaintance -begun under such unusual circumstances is not to end here, and as yet -I do not even know your name." - -"It is not Mephistophiles!" replied the other, who had marked with a -keen eye the expression of his young companion's countenance, at every -doctrine which might be considered as doubtful in tendency, and had -smiled, moreover, at what he considered the boyish innocence of Morley -Ernstein--"it is not Mephistophiles! I am a very inferior devil, I -assure you. My name is Everard Lieberg. In England, which is as much -my home as Germany, people put Esquire at the end of it. On the other -side of the channel, I put Graff before it, and the one title -signifies about as little as the other." - -"But tell me, Count, where I am to find you?" demanded Morley, the -other having risen to depart. - -"Nay, do not call me Count!" exclaimed Lieberg, laughing; "if you do, -I shall fancy myself walking about London, with mustachios and a -queer-looking coat, and lodging somewhere near Leicester Square. No, -no, I put off the Count here, and I have a bachelor's lodging in -Sackville Street, where I shall be very happy to see you--so -farewell." - -Morley Ernstein was left alone, and, as usual with the young, his -first thoughts were of the character of his late companion. Before we -grow old, we learn that the character of nineteen men out of twenty is -not worth a thought. There was something in Lieberg that did not -altogether please him--not alone displayed in his opinions, but also -in his manner, a lightness which was superficial--not affected, but -habitual--and which covered the depths of his character with an -impenetrable disguise. It was like a domino, which, though nothing but -thin, fluttering silk, hides form and feature, so that the real person -beneath cannot be recognised, even by a near friend. - -"Has he any heart, I wonder?" thought the young gentleman. "If so, he -takes pains to hide it. All things seem to pass him by, affecting him -but as breath upon a looking-glass, leaving no trace the moment after, -upon the cold, hard surface beneath. Here he has nursed me like a -brother for the last fortnight, and now he leaves me with the same air -of indifference as if we had just got out of a stagecoach in which our -acquaintance had commenced two hours before." - -Morley felt as if he were somewhat ungrateful for scanning so closely -the character of one who had treated him with much kindness, and, soon -quitting such thoughts, he rang for his good old servant, Adam Gray, -and enquired into all that had passed at Morley Court since he had -left it--the situation of the poor cottagers, whose fate he had -endeavoured to soften; the health of his horses and his dogs; the -promises of the game season; and all those things that the most -interest a very young Englishman, in his hours of health. The horses -were all well; the dogs were in as good a state as could be wished; -the game bade fair to be abundant. - -"But as to Johnes, and Dickenson, and poor Widow Harvey," the old man -said, "I can tell you very little, sir. They have had the money, and -the bread and soup; and Johnes had work at the Lee farm. Widow Harvey -got wool given her to spin, and I sent the apothecary to Dickenson, -but did not hear how he was; for you see, sir, I was just going down -to look in at the poor fellow's cottage, when Miss Carr came to tell -me of the accident, and--" - -"Miss who?" demanded Morley Ernstein, in some surprise. - -"Oh, Miss Carr, sir, you know!" replied Adam Gray. "She was in a -great flurry, poor young lady, and did seem to be very sorry about -you--indeed every one knows she has a good heart, and does as much for -the poor as she can, though that's less than she likes, poor young -lady!" - -"And, pray, who is Miss Carr?" demanded Ernstein; "and why does your -compassion run over on her account, my good Adam? Why do you call her -'poor young lady' so often?" - -"Oh, because she has such a father, to be sure, sir!" replied the -servant. "Surely you recollect Old Carr, the miser, and his daughter, -Miss Juliet--a beautiful girl she was--and is, too, for that matter, -poor thing!" - -"I do not recollect anything about them," answered Morley; "and yet I -remember everything for many years before my poor mother died. But no -such name as Carr ever comes back to my memory. Who is this Mr. Carr?" - -"Ay, ay, I recollect," answered the old man, "it was long ago--before -your time. But as to this Mr. Carr--he's a miser, and was a -lawyer--ay, and cheat into the bargain, if all tales be true. However, -sir, he's got money enough, they say, to buy out half the county; and -there he lives, in that old tumble-down house, at the back of -Yelverly, and not a shilling will he spend to repair it. He has two -maids now, but till Miss Juliet was grown up, there was but one; and -then the man that does the garden and looks after the farm, takes care -of the two horses. Miss Juliet, they say, has some money of her own, -but she spends all that upon the poor people about Yelverly, and upon -books." - -Morley mused; there was a feeling in his bosom--not an operation of -the mind, but one of the revelations of the heart--which instantly -convinced him that the lady, whose horse he had contrived to frighten, -was no other than Juliet Carr. How she had discovered his situation, -so as to give notice to his servants, and send one of them to him, was -his first thought; but, before he gratified his curiosity on that -subject, by asking any questions, he returned to something which had -attracted his attention a few minutes before, demanding-- - -"What was it you meant just now, Adam, when you said, '_It_ was long -ago, before my time?'" - -"Oh, the quarrel, sir," replied the old man--"the quarrel between your -father and Lawyer Carr; when he came about something, and vowed he -would prosecute Sir Henry for defamation, as they called it, which -means scandal, I take it; and your father struck him, and turned him -out of the house, and he has never been near the place since." - -"Did you hear how Miss Carr knew that I was ill?" demanded Morley, now -fully convinced that his supposition was right. - -"She told me they had been passing by this place, sir," answered Adam -Gray, "and they heard the whole story from the ostlers; so she walked -over, that very night, to tell us, poor young lady! It's a long walk, -too, from Yelverly; so she was tired, and sat down for a minute or two -in the library, and took up the book that was open upon the table--it -was called 'Herrick's Poems,' I think--and asked if you had been -reading it; and said, she hoped that you would soon be able to read it -again, with such a sweet voice, she made us all love her. I do wonder -how that man happened to have such a daughter as that--her mother was -a good lady, too." - -"Well, that will do, Adam!" said his master; "now bring me some soup." - - - - -CHAPTER V. - - -The next day Morley Ernstein was permitted by his doctor to go out, -and strange, most strange, were the feelings with which he did -so.--There is nothing positive on earth but truth; all other matters -are relative. Truth, indeed pure abstract truth--is the starting point -of all morals, and without it we should have no starting point at all; -so that the world might well be Pyrrhonists or Epicureans, or what -they would, were it not for the simple doctrine that two and two make -four, and the consequences thereof; for, once having established that -truth is right and falsehood wrong, every other moral tenet follows -step by step, as a matter of course. That ethics are as much a certain -science, when rightly pursued and understood, as mathematics, I have -no more doubt than of my own existence, ethics being, in fact, the -mathematics of the spirit. - -But nevertheless, to return from our digression, it is wonderful how -many things on this earth are relative, which we fancy to be quite -positive; amongst the rest, every kind of sensation, every kind of -pleasure, every kind of taste; so that it is quite easy for us, from -our own occasional experience, to conceive how, in another state of -being, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, and cast away the -fibres of the flesh, many of those things that gave us pleasure here -below, will be abhorrent to us, and much that might seem dull, heavy, -incomprehensible to the animal walking in darkness on the earth, will -then, brightened by higher perceptions, be all light, and glory, and -enjoyment. - -With Morley Ernstein, however, as with all convalescents, the -sensations were not exactly changed from what they were before; some -were acuminated, some were softened, since he had lain on the bed of -sickness, and strange indeed were his feelings as he walked out, -leaning on the arm of his old servant. It was only into the little -garden at the back of the inn that he ventured, but it was all delight -to him. Nature seemed never to have been so bright and beautiful; the -broad bosom of each common rose that was planted by the side of the -gravel walk, appeared a chamber of enjoyment, in which some small -angel might well pass away the perfumed hours. The cobweb, spangled -with morning dew, was a miracle; the breath of the breeze was heaven. -There was withal a sensation of calm, peaceful repose within his own -breast, which was very different from the eager fire of his nature in -ordinary health; and during that day, and the one that followed it, he -contemplated with pleasure a return to Morley Court, to a long lapse -of dreamy hours amongst woods, and fields, and streams, with, perhaps, -some thoughts of finding out fair Juliet Carr, and thanking her for -the interest she had taken in him. - -Day by day, however, health came back, and strength along with it, and -eager activity with strength. The longing for objects on which to -spend the energies within him; the curiosity of a young fresh heart -for a knowledge of the deeper and more powerful things of life; that -ambition for the vigorous occupations of mature minds, which possesses -all who set out in life with strong bodily and intellectual faculties, -returned upon the young Baronet with every pulse of renewed health; -and four days after his first walk in the garden, he despatched Adam -Gray for the chariot from Morley Court, and on the sixth was rolling -away towards London. - -London is certainly the most wonderful city in the world, and probably -the most unlike any other on the earth. On approaching it, one is lost -in surprise from its immensity of extent--an immensity that makes -itself felt one hardly knows how. It seems to press upon you before -you reach it; to multiply its forms and appearances around you, when -you fancy yourself far from it; to surround, to grasp, to overwhelm -you, ere you know that a city is near. Nevertheless, when once in it, -the effect upon any one who is not an indigenous plant of the soil, is -anything but impressive. In general, the smallness of the houses, the -long rows of iron railings, the littleness of the windows, and their -numbers, give the streets a petty and poor effect; while the colour of -the bricks, which, when seen in grand masses, is imposing enough, has -there a dull and dirty appearance, very unsatisfactory to the eye. Add -to all this, the thick and heavy atmosphere, foul with the steam of -fifteen hundred thousand human beings, and full three hundred thousand -fires, so that a vast dome of smoke nightcaps the great capital, and -only suffers the sun to penetrate, as the dim vision of a brighter -thing. - -In summer, indeed, the extinction of all the fires--except those which -man, the cooking animal, maintains everlastingly, for the -gratification of his palate--leaves the English metropolis somewhat -clearer and brighter than at any other season of the year; and as it -was a warm and brilliant day, in the beginning of June, when Morley -Ernstein entered London, the streets looked gay and cheerful, and he -drove up to the Hotel in Berkeley Square, with that feeling of -pleasant expectation which comes upon us all when we enter a new -abode, where a thousand means and opportunities of pleasure, a -thousand channels and highways of gratification, are opened before us, -and where sorrow, and pain, and misery, and sickness, and death, are -hidden beneath those pompous and glittering veils with which it is the -business of society to conceal the abhorrent features of all that is -distressing and frightful in human existence. - -There are some people who, on entering a great capital, feel a weight, -an oppressive load fall upon their bosom, as if all those miseries of -which we have spoken were infused into the burdensome atmosphere of -the place, and were drawn in with every breath; but these must be men -who have lived long, and known sorrows tangibly, who have felt the -tooth of gnawing care, and the beak and talons of fierce anxiety, -preying day by day upon the bleeding heart. Such, however, was not the -case with Morley Ernstein; there seemed a well of hope in his bosom, -the waters of which possessed a power ascribed to those consecrated by -the Roman Church, of driving out all dark spirits from the spot over -which they were sprinkled. The busy life, the eager energy within him, -the warrior-spirit of strong animal existence, always ready to combat -the ills of fate, guarded the door of imagination, and suffered no -thought of coming evil to intrude. - -Thus all things seemed to smile around him; and although the lilacs -and the laurels, the laburnums and the privets, which tenanted the -square before his eyes, might look somewhat dull and smoky, when -compared with the green trees of the country; though the air he -breathed might seem but a shade thinner than pea soup, and the noise -of eternal carriages might strike his ear as something less tuneful -than the birds of his own fields; yet it was not upon these things -that his mind rested. He thought, on the contrary, of all the wonders -of that mighty place; of the vast resources comprised within it; of -the intellectual pleasures that were there collected as if in a -store-house; of the magnificent monuments of art that it contained; of -the wealth, the abundance, the splendour, the beauty, the fancy; the -genius, the wisdom, the grace, with which every street was thronged; -of the vast and strange combinations that were there produced; of the -laws, the systems, the philosophies, the wars, the colonies, the -enterprises, that had thence issued forth; of the piety, the charity, -the benevolence, the great aspirations, the noble purposes, the fine -designs, the wonderful discoveries, which had there originated; -and--as if to give the finishing touch of the sublime to all--came -over his mind the vague, spectre-like image of the crime which there -had a permanent existence, an unchangeable and undiscoverable home. -Such were the feelings with which he viewed London, on returning to it -as his own master, free to taste, to examine, to inquire, to judge, -and to enjoy. - -It would require more time than I could bestow on any one part of my -subject, to trace the life of Morley Ernstein during the first -fortnight of his stay in London. With the eagerness of novelty he -followed various pleasures, sought out various amusements, and dipped -somewhat, but not deeply, in the stream of dissipation. What is called -the season was that year protracted to a period later than usual. Gay -carriages still thronged the streets in the end of June. The -Parliament continued its sittings far into July, and gaiety succeeded -gaiety, till those who had commenced the pleasures of a London life at -the beginning Of the year, with bright eyes and rosy cheeks, were pale -and haggard, with the round of midnight parties and crowded rooms. - -Not so Morley Ernstein: health and strength were returning to him -every hour, in spite of the current in which he was now immersed, and -by one of those strange physiological phenomena for which it is -difficult, if not impossible, to account, the vigour of his frame, the -impetuosity of his animal nature seemed to be increased rather than -diminished by the consequences of the malady which had nearly crushed -out existence altogether. - -The reader, perhaps, may think that the young Baronet shewed somewhat -like weak caprice, or still weaker vacillation of purpose, in plunging -into the high tide of gaiety, when he had set out for London with the -design of studying calmly and quietly his fellow-beings, and the -strange complicated form of existence in which they moved in the great -capital; but the difference between the execution and the design, as, -indeed, is generally the case, was produced by the operation of -external as well as internal causes, by the accidents of situation as -well as the vehement impulse of high blood and energetic youth, -contending against the calmer admonitions of a holier spirit within. -On his first arrival in London, he followed the plan which he had -proposed, and called upon no one but his guardian and Count Lieberg. -He felt himself, indeed, bound in gratitude not to make any -unnecessary delay in visiting either. The latter, with whom the reader -is already acquainted, had saved his life; the former had protected -his early years and had administered his fortune with anxious care and -successful wisdom. He, however, not being yet known to the reader, we -must bring him on the stage for a moment, and dwell briefly upon a -character, which, though presenting no very salient points, is -nevertheless worth studying as the type of a class. Mr. Hamilton was a -banker--an English banker, which is as different an animal from that -which goes by the same generic name in other countries, as the mammoth -or antediluvian elephant is from the elephant of the _Jardin des -Plantes_. He was a calm, quiet, reasoning man, of aristocratical -family, (his brother was a peer of the realm,) and of aristocratical -habits and manners. He had been selected from among three younger -brothers, to take a share in one of the great London banking-houses, -on account of his talent for calculation and his habits of business; -and during the course of a long career, he had shewn that knowledge of -detail and attention to minutiæ which is the essence of accuracy in -every sort of transaction. He possessed, however, another set of -qualities which are but too rarely combined in this world with those -which we have ascribed to him. His general views were broad and -extensive; his heart benevolent and kind; and he valued not in any -degree, except as a means, that gold with which he was called upon to -occupy his thoughts during a considerable portion of every day in his -life. There is many a reader who may, perhaps, say, "This character is -unnatural--this is one of those phantasms of ideal perfection only to -be found in a romance; every one knows, that the habit of dealing with -gold contracts the heart, and even if it does not diminish the -intellect, it so concentrates it upon one favourite object, as to -render it unavailable for all the grander purposes of life." - -Thus, reasoning from abstract data, we may all produce very pleasant -criticisms, as philosophers have often produced very pleasant -theories, and yet be very wrong. The character of the banker is not an -ideal one; and though I certainly do not intend to make him the hero -of these pages, or to bring him often on the stage, I must proceed to -paint him, and must add another touch, which will add to the -incredibility of the whole. He was not ambitious any more than he was -avaricious. He had a family of several children whom he loved passing -well. His eldest daughter was the pride of his heart; she might have -bound her brow with a Coronet, or have seen herself mistress of the -most splendid mansion in her native land. With her father's full -consent and approbation, she married a man of no great wealth and no -very high expectations, having for every recommendation that he was a -gentleman both in heart and manners, and a gallant soldier of a -gallant race. This was not like ambition; and there are eyes which may -sometime or another rest upon this page, who have witnessed those acts -of generous liberality, which shew that wealth may be gained without -begetting avarice, and that the most expansive liberality is perfectly -compatible with the most clear and accurate knowledge of detail. Mr. -Hamilton was a politician as well as a financier, but he carried the -same spirit into all his proceedings, and displayed the clear and just -views which spring from a high mind, combined with the noble and -generous feelings which originate in a fine heart. - -Such was the English Banker; it is certain that he might have some -faults, that there might be an error here or a weakness there; but I -envy not the man whose mental eye can gaze through the smoked glass of -a misanthropical philosophy, to discover spots amid such light as -that. - -To the house of Mr. Hamilton, then, Morley Ernstein's very first visit -was paid. He had always felt the deepest gratitude and regard towards -his guardian, and he was now well pleased to express all such -sensations at the end of that period, during which the one had the -right to control, and the other was bound to obey. Ere he left Mr. -Hamilton, he told him the plan which he had laid out for himself in -London, but the good banker did not altogether approve of it. - -"You are wise," he said, "Morley, not to plunge deeply into what may -be called innocent dissipations, but still the society of persons in -your own rank is a necessary which you must not deny yourself, not a -luxury which can enfeeble or injure the mind. Besides, my young -friend, if you would study man and society, you must study both -under their various aspects; nor must you look at them apart, for if -you would judge sanely, you must see, each grade acting and reacting -upon the other. The man of rank and station is but a mere automaton, -pretty to look at, amusing to examine; it is not till he is considered -in his relations with those around him and below him, in the reference -which his acts bear to his inferiors, to his equals, and to his God, -that you have the great moral agent, the most wonderful subject of -contemplation which this world can furnish. Such, too, is the case -with the inferior grades of society. All their arts, all their -thoughts, all their pleasures, all their sufferings, become tenfold -more interesting, tenfold more important, as an object of meditation, -when considered in reference to, and in comparison with, the pleasures -and sufferings, thoughts and acts of others. Beware, my dear boy, -beware, how, in your very outset of life, you gain a _one-sided_ view -of the grand scheme of society. It is this capital error which is the -prevailing fault of politicians and philosophers. It is from this -error that we have so many declaimers, and so few reasoners. It is -this error which makes the staple commodity of those men, who are -continually exciting one class of society against another. It is with -this that they trade, and often win themselves most undeserved renown, -of which future ages will strip them, and leave them naked and -disgraced. It is this one-sided view which actuates the many good, -and, in some respects, wise men, whom we see daily altering laws -without mending them, and founding institutions without benefiting -society. See, my dear Morley, the lower classes, but see the the -higher also--see with your own eyes, judge with your own -understanding; but see all, and not a part; judge, but judge not -without knowing all that is in dispute." - -"I will try to follow your advice, my dear sir," replied Morley; "for -I perfectly understand and appreciate your reasoning. I merely felt -inclined to look first into those lower grades, where so much misery -and crime, I fear, exist, thinking that I could study with much more -ease, the class in which I move myself, at an after-period." - -"Study them together, Morley," said the Banker; "look at no one part -of the scheme, without a reference to the other. When you consider me, -consider, at the same time, what influence my personal character and -habits may have upon the footman that opened the door to you, and upon -all my other servants. Then, if you will trace them home to the family -cottage in the country or the lodging in some little back street in -London, you will find, that just as I am a good or bad man, just as I -am a kind or unkind master, just as I deal well and wisely with my -inferiors, a corresponding result is transmitted through a long chain -of cause and effect, to the tenants of the cottage or the lodging, of -which I have been speaking. The same will be the case, though the -process will be with more difficulty perceived, if you begin with a -person in inferior station, and trace the results of his acts upon -those above him. I have known a casual word spoken by a vicious -servant, plant the seeds of vice in a young and previously-innocent -mind, which have afterwards produced a harvest of misery, desolation, -and remorse, in the bosom of a happy and virtuous family. I give you -this as but an instance, to shew that we are continually acted upon -from below, as well as from above. Take, therefore, the best means, -examine both at the same time: thus will you gain a perfect view, and -will not suffer the ideas acquired by the contemplation of one side of -any question, to be so fixed in your mind as to exclude those -arguments and facts which would modify or remove them." - -"I will certainly follow your advice, my dear sir," replied Morley, -"both because I am convinced that it is good, and because you give it; -but I only fear that my time in London will be too short to see -anything deeply, if, by comparing continually, I double the inquiry." - -"Do you know, Morley," said Mr. Hamilton, musing, "I am not sure that -there is not a greater, a more miserable kind of evil brought about by -studying only one side of a question deeply, than by studying both -superficially. However, my dear boy, dine with us to-night, where you -will see some of those in the higher ranks, who are worthy of being -known. There is a little party, too, I believe, in the evening, and -you can begin 'Don Quixote' to-morrow." - -Morley smiled, and promising to join the Banker's dinner-table, turned -his steps towards the dwelling of his new friend, Lieberg. He easily -found the house, which, as the reader well knows, was in a very -central situation. The step of the door was washed with the greatest -care, and rubbed with the peculiar kind of stone, to that especial -purpose appropriate, till it was as white as snow. The door was of -mahogany, with a small lozenge-shaped brass knocker, and a -copper-plate fixed immediately under the instrument of noise, -recommending, with the soft persuasion of the imperative mood, that -the visitor should ring as well as knock. Morley Ernstein obeyed to -the letter, and without a moment's delay, a servant out of livery -opened the door, and replied to his demand, that Colonel Lieberg was -at home. The addition of military rank to his friend's titles did not -at all surprise Morley Ernstein; for there was in his whole appearance -a certain soldier-like look which is seldom acquired by a civilian. - -Every thing within the doors of the house was the pink of perfection. -The drawing-room was beautifully furnished, and in every part of it -were to be seen objects of taste and _vertu_, not precisely those -things which have acquired for themselves the technical terms of -nic-nacs, and serve but to please the eye or amuse the fancy; but, on -the contrary, things which appealed to the mind through various -associations--small cabinet pictures of great value, bronzes from -Herculanum, marbles from Greece and Rome, beautiful specimens of the -_cinque cento_ workmanship, a little Venus from the hands of John of -Bologna, and two or three tables of exquisite Florentine mosaic. - -Lying on a sofa, near the open window, which was curtained, if we may -use the term, with manifold odoriferous flowers, habited in a -dressing-gown of rich embroidered silk, and with his fine countenance -full of eager interest in what he was reading, lay Everard Lieberg, -with a book in his hand, on which his eyes were so intently fixed, -that he did not seem to observe the opening of the door, till his -servant pronounced the name of Morley Ernstein. - -Starting up from the sofa, he laid down the book, and grasped his -young friend's hand, welcoming him to London, and congratulating him -on the full recovery which his looks bespoke. The conversation then -turned to Morley's plans and purposes, as it had done with Mr. -Hamilton. But Lieberg declared that he had already laid out -half-a-dozen schemes for Ernstein, which he must insist upon being -executed. There were beautiful horses to be bought, there were races -to be attended, there were singers to be heard, there were pictures to -be seen, there was a wonderful mechanical invention which brought into -action new powers in the physical world, there was a splendid orator -in a chapel in Sloane Street, there was the loveliest woman in all -Europe in the third box of the first tier of the opera, there was a -new pamphlet on the immortality of the soul, and there was a romance -of Balzac's, which seemed written for the express purpose of proving, -that-- - - - "Nought is everything, and everything is nought." - - -The multitude, the diversity, the opposition of the various matters -which Lieberg proposed for his pursuit, at once bewildered and amused -his young friend. But there was a fascination about his eloquence that -was scarcely to be resisted. He contrived to describe everything in -such a manner, as to place it in the most attractive aspect to his -hearer, seeing, with a skill that seemed almost intuitive, the exact -nature and character of his tastes and feelings, and shaping his -account accordingly. As an instance, his description of the lady, whom -he had beheld on two successive nights at the opera, was such, that -Morley almost fancied he must have seen Juliet Carr, although, to the -best of his belief, she was nearly two hundred miles from London. - -"I shall get bewildered with all that I have to see, to do, and to -think of," replied Morley, "and so I fear must leave one half of your -fine plans unexecuted. But at all events, we must classify them -somewhat better, for you have propounded them in rather a -heterogeneous form." - -"Not at all, not at all!" cried Lieberg, "the very contrast gives the -charm! Depend upon it, we should not think half so much of beauty if -there was no ugliness in the world. Life ought to be like a Russian -bath, the hot and the cold alternately; nothing will strengthen the -mind so much, nothing will give us such powers of endurance, nothing -will keep the zest of pleasure so fresh upon us, nothing will enable -us to change with so little regret, as the changing periods of our -life compel us to seek new enjoyments, and follow fresh pursuits." - -"I should think," replied Morley, "that with your incessant activity -in the chase of pleasure, you would soon meet with satiety, and the -world's stock of enjoyment would be exhausted while you are yet -young." - -"Impossible--impossible!" cried Lieberg; "the world's stores are -inexhaustible to a man who has the capabilities of enjoying them all. -But come, Ernstein, we are losing time even now. Come with me to -T--'s; this is a sale day; I know of three horses that are perfect in -every point; you shall buy which of them you like, and I will take any -that you do not buy. Wait one moment for me while I put off my -dressing-gown and on my coat. There is 'Don Juan' for you, or a -Pamphlet on the Currency, as you happen to be in the mood." - -The horses were bought, and justified fully Lieberg's knowledge and -taste; and the rest of the day Morley Ernstein spent with his new -friend, hurried on from scene to scene, and from object to object, -with that impetuosity which suited but too well with his own nature. -At the same time, there was a degree of wit, sufficient to enliven, -but not to dazzle, a degree of eloquence, which carried away without -convincing, in the conversation of Lieberg, whatever was the subject -that it touched upon, which added interest to all that Morley heard -and saw, by the remarks which followed. Thus, when he returned home to -dress for dinner, his mind was in that state of giddy excitement, -which every one must have sometimes felt after a hard day's hunting. -As he made his preparations for the party at Mr. Hamilton's he -resolved that the next day should be passed in more calm and -thoughtful pursuits; but he little knew how difficult it is for a man -to halt in any course on which he has once entered vehemently. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - - -The dinner-party at Mr. Hamilton's was such as might be expected, from -the character as well as the situation of the man. Splendour, -chastened by good taste, reigned at the table; and as he possessed -none of the harsh austerity which sometimes accompanies age, although -his whole demeanour displayed that calm gravity which sits so well -upon the brow of years, the guests around his table were chosen from -amongst the most cheerful, as well as from amongst the best of the -society which London can afford. There were one or two distinguished -statesmen, there were one or two mere politicians--and these classes -are very distinct--there were one or two men of high rank and vast -possessions; there were one or two persons distinguished for genius -and for virtue; there were one or two gay young men, with very empty -heads, who chattered to one or two pretty young women, who were easily -satisfied in point of conversation. The rest of the party consisted of -the wives of some of those we have mentioned, and the family of Mr. -Hamilton himself. - -All were London people; all had been accustomed to mingle much in -London society: all were acquainted with everything that existed in -the part of London which they themselves inhabited, and in the society -with which they were accustomed to mix. I do not mean to say, that--as -is so common--they knew nothing more. On the contrary, the greater -part of the men and women who sat around that dinner-table, possessed -extensive information upon many subjects; but still the locality in -which they dwelt, and the society in which they moved, acted in some -sort as a prison to their minds, from the limits of which they did -certainly occasionally make excursions, but to which they were -generally brought back again by the gaoler, custom, ere they had -wandered far. - -Such is ordinarily the great evil of London society to a stranger. -Unless an effort is charitably made for the sake of the uninitiated, -the conversation of the English capital is limited to subjects of -particular rather than general interest; and where a Frenchman would -sport over the whole universe of created things, solely for the -purpose of shewing his agility, an Englishman's conversation, -following the bent of his habits, sits down by his own fireside, and -seldom travels beyond the circle in which he lives. The effect of this -contraction is curious and unpleasant to a stranger; but that stranger -himself, if he be gentlemanly in habits and powerful in mind, very -often produces a miraculous and beneficial change upon the society -itself. If the people composing it really possess intellect and -information, and the narrowness of their conversation proceed merely -from habit, there is something in the freshness of the stranger's -thoughts which interests and excites them. They make an effort to keep -up with him on his own ground; the animation of the race carries them -away, and off they go, scampering over hill and dale, as if they were -driving after a fox. - -Such was the case in the present instance. Morley Ernstein, though he -had been in London several times during his school and college life, -knew little of it but the names of certain streets, the theatres, the -opera, and the park. He could not talk of what had taken place at -Almack's the night before. He was not conversant with any of the -scandal that was running in the town; he did not know who was going to -marry who; and was quite unaware that Lady Loraine had had two -husbands before, and was going to take a third. All the tittle-tattle, -in short, of that quarter of London in which fashionable people live, -was as unknown to him as the gossip of the moon; and during some ten -minutes, as he sat at a little distance from Mr. Hamilton himself, he -remained in profound silence, eating his soup and his fish, with as -much devotion as if the _Almanach des Gourmands_ had been his book of -common prayer. - -After talking for some time to other people, Mr. Hamilton cast his -eyes on his former ward, and knowing that he was neither shy, nor -stupid, nor sullen, nor gluttonous, he wondered to see him buried in -profound meditations over the plate that was before him. At that -moment, however, his ear caught the sound of the conversation that was -taking place on either side of Morley. - -"The Duchess has such excellent taste," said the lady on his right -hand; "so she insisted upon it, that it should be dark green, with a -thin line of stone colour, between the black and the green, and the -arms only in light and shade." - -Mr. Hamilton perceived that she was talking of the Duchess of -Watercourse's new carriage, but Morley Ernstein knew nothing about it. - -"Oh! but I know it did!" replied the young lady, on Ernstein's other -side, speaking to a young gentleman, who might quite as well have been -a young lady too; "it cost five hundred francs in Paris, and that is -twenty pounds--is it not? But then it was _à point d'armes_, and it -was trimmed with the most beautiful valenciennes, three fingers -broad." - -Mr. Hamilton guessed that she was talking of a pocket-handkerchief; -but what she said was as unintelligible to Morley, as an essay on the -differential calculus would have been to her. At that moment the young -Baronet raised his eyes, with a curious sort of smile, to the face of -his former guardian, and Mr. Hamilton certainly read his look, and -connected it with their conversation of that morning. It seemed to -say--"Notwithstanding all your exhortations, my good friend, the study -of the higher classes of society does not appear to me to tend much to -edification." But Mr. Hamilton, who knew that there is such a thing as -being stupid by convention, made an effort to give his young friend an -opening, and consequently addressing the lady who had last been -speaking, he said--"Pray, what do you call _à point d'armes_, Lady -Caroline?--I confess I am very ignorant, and so, I fear, is my friend -Morley, next to you." - -The young lady coloured a little, and laughed, saying--"I was only -talking of a pocket-handkerchief which cost five hundred francs." - -"Was any one wicked enough to give it?" said Morley, to whom she had -addressed the last few words. - -"O dear, yes," she replied; "we good people in London are wicked -enough to do anything for the sake of fashion." - -"There is candour enough, at least, in the avowal," thought Morley -Ernstein, and there was something in the young lady's tone as she -answered, which struck him, and made him conceive that his first -opinion of her mental powers, might not be altogether accurate. - -Let it be remarked, that, the very general idea, that speech consists -of words alone, is extremely erroneous. That the parts of speech, -indeed, which are beaten into us at school, and for which, during a -certain period of our lives, we curse all the grammarians that ever -lived, from Priscian down to Lily, consist entirely of words, is true; -but he who looks closer than any of these grammar-makers at the real -philosophy of language, will find that speech consists of three -distinct branches--words, looks, and tones. All these must act -together to make what is properly called speech. Without either of the -two last branches, the words rightly arranged form but what is called -language; but that is a very different thing. How much is there in a -tone?--what a variety of meanings will it give to the same word, or to -the same sentence! It renders occasionally the same phrase negative or -affirmative; it continually changes it from an assertion to an -interrogation. The most positive form of language in the world, under -the magic influence of a tone, becomes the strongest expression of -doubt, and "I will not" means "I will" full as frequently as anything -else. - -Tones, too, besides shewing the meaning of the speaker at the moment, -occasionally go on to display the character of his mind or the -habitual direction of his thoughts; and it was by this interpreter -that Morley Ernstein was led at once to translate the little -insignificant moral that fell from his fair neighbour's lips, into a -hint, that her mind did not always dwell upon the frivolous things of -which she had just been speaking. He followed the direction in which -she led: the conversation grew brighter, more animated; many persons -took part in it; many subjects were discussed; the freshness of -Morley's mind led others gaily after him. The vehemence and eagerness -of his natural character, carried him off to a thousand subjects, -which he at first never dreamed of touching upon; and in short, the -conversation of the next half hour was like the wild gallop which we -have seen him take across his own park; and, as then too, he ended by -leaping the wall at a hound, and plunging into a topic, which might -well be compared to the high road, being neither more nor less than -politics. - -A sudden silence followed, and the young gentleman, feeling that he -had gone quite far enough, drew in the rein, and stopped in full -course. The impetus however was given, the thoughts of those around -him were led so far away from all the ordinary subjects of discussion -at a London party, that they would have found it difficult to get back -again, even if they had been so inclined, which, however, was the case -with but few of them; and one or two of the elder and more -distinguished persons present, purposely led Morley on to speak upon -various subjects with which they judged him to be well acquainted. It -was done with tact and discretion, however, in such a manner as to -draw him out, without letting him perceive that any one looked upon -him as a sort of American Indian. - -On rising from table, a Peer who had figured in more than one -administration, drew Mr. Hamilton aside, and made Morley the subject -of conversation, while that young gentleman himself was talking for a -few moments with an elderly man of amiable manners, called Lord -Clavering. - -"A very remarkable young man, Mr. Hamilton!" said the -statesman--"somewhat fresh and inexperienced; but his ideas are very -original, and generally just. Is his fortune large?" - -"Very considerable!" replied Mr. Hamilton; "his father, whom you must -have known, left two large estates, one called the Morley Court -estate; the other still larger, but not so productive, in the wilds of -Northumberland. He succeeded when very young, and as you may suppose, -I have not let the property decrease during his minority." - -"I know, Mr. Hamilton--I know, Mr. Hamilton!" replied the Peer, with a -meaning smile. "Would it not be better to bring the young gentleman -into the House of Commons? There is the old borough, you know, -Hamilton, will be vacant after this session; for poor Wilkinson -accepts the Hundreds, on account of bad health. My whole influence -shall be given to your young friend, if he chooses to stand." - -Mr. Hamilton bowed, and thanked the Peer, but somewhat drily withal, -saying, "I will mention to him what your lordship says;" and then, -turning away, he spoke to some of his other guests. - -Not long after, the knocker of Mr. Hamilton's door became in great -request, footman after footman laying his hand upon it, and -endeavouring, it would seem, to see how far he could render it a -nuisance to every one in the neighbourhood. Crowds of well-dressed -people, of every complexion and appearance under the sun, began to -fill the rooms, and certainly afforded--as every great party of a -great city does--a more miscellaneous assortment of strange animals -than can be found in the Regent's Park, or the Jardin des Plantes. -Putting aside the differences of hue and colouring--the fair, the -dark, the bronze, the sallow, the ruddy, the pale--and the differences -of size--the tall, the short, the fat, the thin, the middle-sized--and -of name, the variations of which were derived from every colour under -heaven, black, brown, green, grey, white, and every quarter that the -wind blows front, east, west, north, and south--and the difference of -features--the bottle-nosed, the small-eyed, the long-chinned, the -cheek boned, down to the noseless rotundity of a Gibbon's countenance, -and the saucer-eyes that might have suited the owl in the -Freyschutz--putting aside all these, I say there were various persons, -each of whom might have passed for a _lusus naturæ_, were not many -such to be found in every assembly of this world's children. There -were some without heads, and some without hearts, some without -feelings, and some without understanding. Some were simply bundles -of pulleys and ropes, with a hydraulic machine for keeping them -going--termed, by courtesy, flesh, bones, and blood, but none the less -mere machines as ever came out of Maudslay's furnaces. Some were but -bags of other people's ideas, who were propelled about the world as if -on castors, receiving all that those who were near them chose to cram -them with. Others were like what surveyors call a spirit-level, the -fluid in which inclines this way or that, according to that which it -leans upon. There were those, too, whose microscopic minds enlarge the -atoms under their own eyes, till mites seem mountains, but who yet can -see nothing further than an inch from their own noses; and there were -those, also, who appear to be always gazing through a theodolite, so -busily gauging distant objects as to overlook everything that is -immediately before them. There was, in short, the man of vast general -views, who can never fix his mind down to particular truths, and the -man of narrow realities, who cannot stretch his comprehension to -anything that he has not seen. Besides all these, there was the -ordinary portion of the milk-and-water of society; a good deal of the -vinegar; here and there some spirits of wine, a few flowers, and a -scanty portion of fruit. - -In the midst of all this, what did Morley Ernstein do? He amused -himself greatly, as every young man of tolerable intellect might do; -he laughed at some, and with others; was little annoyed by any; and, -with a heart too young to be a good hater, he saw not much to excite -anger, though a good deal to excite pity. There were some, however, -who pleased him much. One or two young men, whose manners, tone, and -countenance he liked; and more young women, whom, of course, he liked -better still. He was a good deal courted, and made much of; and many -ladies who had daughters, marriageable and unmarried, sent people to -bring him up, and introduce him. Morley thought it very natural that -such should be the case. "Were I a mother," he said to himself, -"which, thank Heaven, I never can be, I would do just the same. People -cry out upon this sort of thing--I really do not see why they should -do so, more than censure a father for getting his son a commission in -the Guards. It is right that we should wish to see our children well -provided for; and so long as there is nothing unfair, no deception, no -concealment, the purpose is rather honourable than otherwise." - -Morley Ernstein knew that his large fortune and position in society -must cause him to be regarded as a good match by more than half the -mothers in England; he had heard so, and believed it; but he did not -suffer that belief to make him either conceited, or suspicious. "It is -a great advantage to me," he thought; "for it gives me the entrance -into many a house where I could not otherwise penetrate, and puts me -above the consideration of wealth, which I might otherwise be driven -to, in the choice of my future wife. Thank. God! I can afford to wed -the poorest girl in Europe if I find that she possesses those -qualities which I believe will make me happy." - -With these feelings, Morley Ernstein could hardly fail to make himself -agreeable in the society of women; and certain it is, that many of -those intriguing mothers, who go beyond that just limit which his mind -had clearly fixed, thought, when they saw his careless and -unsuspicious manner, his want of conceit in the gifts of fortune, and -the readiness with which he met any advances, that he would be an easy -as well as a golden prize, and prepared themselves to do battle with -their rivals in the same good cause, for the possession of the young -Baronet. They found themselves mistaken, for the simplest of all -reasons, that mothers who could scheme, and contrive, and deceive, for -the purpose of entangling him, were precisely those who could by no -possible means bring up a daughter in such a way as to satisfy, even -in manners, the young heir of Morley Court. - -However, the evening passed pleasantly for Morley Ernstein. He was -amused, as I have said; but, in truth, there was something more. He -was interested and excited. Where is the young man of one-and-twenty -to be found, who will not let his heart yield, in a great degree, to -the effect of scene and circumstance?--to the moving of fair and -graceful forms around him?--to the sound of sweet voices, mingled with -music?--to the glittering of bright jewels, and of brighter eyes? and -to soft words and gentle looks, enlivened from time to time by flights -of gay wit, or even thoughtless merriment. Morley certainly passed -through the rooms, criticising as he went, and found much interest in -examining the characters of the persons present; but that was not all: -he gradually became one of them himself in feeling, took an individual -interest as well as a general one, in what was going on, shared in the -excitement, and went home at length, after having enjoyed the whole -probably ten times as much as any one there, except it was some young -girl of eighteen, who met the man she hoped might love her, or some -unknown youth who had never before obtained admission to the higher -classes of English society. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - - -The general diffusion of knowledge is a very great thing, no doubt, -and the cultivation of intellectual powers, in every grade of life and -class of society, may probably produce a very excellent result; but -yet, the man who goes about the world with his eyes open--it is -certainly very rare to find such a man, for the great mass of human -beings decidedly keep their eyes shut altogether, or, at best, but -half unclosed--the man who goes about the world with his eyes open -will be inclined, from a great number of very curious facts that he -perceives, to deduce a theory, or, perhaps, if that be too positive a -term, we may say, to build up an hypothesis, very much at variance -with the dream of the French philosophers before the first revolution, -regarding the perfectibility of human nature. He will be inclined to -imagine that the will of God may allot to a certain number of mortals -only a certain portion of genius, and that when a very great share of -this genius is concentrated in a few individuals of the number, the -rest of the multitude remain dull and incapable, while the few produce -the most sublime fruits of human intellect; and, on the contrary, -where the allotted portion of talent is spread over a great surface, -divided amongst many, not only few distinguish themselves from the -rest, but none produce anything equal to the works brought into being -by the two or three more gifted men which we have referred to in the -other case. Thus, in the present age, where all is light, in not one -of the arts do we find such wonderful results as we might anticipate -from the general diffusion of knowledge. It is very true, great -discoveries have been made--that we have had Herschells, La Places, -Faradays--that we have discovered steam-engines, railroads, electric -telegraphs; but, though the assertion may seem bold, the gauge of -original powers in the human mind is to be found more in the arts than -in the sciences. The sciences build upon tradition; they are -cumulative, and all the generations of the past together hold out the -hand to raise up the diligent aspirer to a height above themselves. -Not so the arts; for though the scientific part of each may be -improved, by, the accumulation of knowledge, that part which gives -them their fire and vigour depends upon the genius of each individual -artist; and just in the same proportion as you find a certain degree -of skill very generally diffused, you will find a multitude of poets, -painters, statuaries, and a sad deficiency of excellence amongst them. - -Nothing, perhaps, shewed the grandeur and the grasp of ancient art -more strongly than the vigour with which the old painters used the -effect produced upon the human mind by the power of contrast, and the -infinite skill with which they employed that power, so as never to -violate those essential principles of harmony which affect painting -and sculpture fully as much as they affect music and poetry. Where is -the man of the present day who can set red, and yellow, and blue -garments side by side with hues of the most sparkling brightness, and -yet in no degree offend the eye, or produce the least sensation of -harshness upon the mind? So, nevertheless, it is in the paintings of -almost all the finest old masters; and we shall also find, that in -life itself, one of the greatest zests to enjoyment is striking -contrast, provided we can obtain it without any harshness of -transition. - -Morley Ernstein sat at breakfast, on the following day, somewhat later -than usual, thinking over all the people and the things he had seen, -and all the words and sounds he had heard, and as, though somewhat -variable in his moods, he was not one of those monsters of philosophy -who come out into the world at the age of one-and-twenty, like Minerva -all armed from the head of Jove, with a sombre and supercilious -disgust for common life and its vanities--as he was, in short, neither -less nor more than an eager, impetuous, though talented and feeling, -young man, it must be confessed, he felt a little of that sort of -giddiness of brain, and hurry of ideas, which follows excitement of -any kind. His reveries, however, were soon broken in upon by the -appearance of his friend Lieberg, who did not take the seat placed for -him, but immediately exclaimed-- - -"Come, Ernstein, you are on the search for strange things; I have one -all ready for you. I am going to Bow-street, and on what occasion I -will tell you by the way. There you may make a mental breakfast upon -all the rogues and vagabonds that are served up fresh every morning -about eleven, like new shrimps at Worthing." - -"I shall be delighted," replied Morley. "I long extremely to see a -good deal more of those gentry; they and their manners have always -formed a subject of wonder and interest for my imagination." - -"You may pamper its appetite here to the full," answered Lieberg; "but -come, I shall be late." - -Morley Ernstein was speedily equipped and rolling along in Lieberg's -cabriolet towards that street where, in days of yore, a thieves' -coffee-house appeared on one side of the way, nearly opposite to the -place whence so many of them were sent to trial and to death. As a -Bow-street officer once expressed it--"The house had been established -there, that the gentlemen might always be ready when they were -wanted." As they proceeded, Lieberg told him that his pocket had been -picked of a gold snuff-box, coming out of the opera on the preceding -night. - -"The thing was done in the most deliberate manner," he said. "I found -myself pressed upon very hard by three strong fellows, and feeling a -sort of waving undulation of my pocket behind, I turned round to look, -and saw a very well-dressed man in the act of abstracting the box, -without any great ceremony or delicacy. With the fullest intentions of -knocking him down, I was prevented from moving in many way by the two -men who pressed me on either side, and who, by a well-devised method -of squeezing their victim, held me as if in a vice. Scarcely could I -turn my head round again, when I found something tugging hard at my -watch; luckily there was a strong guard round my neck, but, -nevertheless, after the conquest of my snuff-box had been fully -effected, the fellow who was before me still gave two hearty pulls, -and when he ceased, had the impudence to say, with a grin--'That's a -good chain, sir--I'd advise you to take care of it.' They then shouted -to each other--'Be off--be off!' and began running up the Haymarket -at full speed. I chased the man who had got the box for some way, -crying--'Stop thief!' A watchman sprang his rattle, and tried to seize -one of the fellows; but, by a dexterous movement, the pickpocket -tripped up the poor Charley's feet, and he, rolling down before me, -stopped one for the moment, and the fellows escaped. I immediately -sent for a Bow-street officer, described my friend who had got the -snuff-box, and this morning was told that he is in custody. A curious -hint, however, was given me by my good friend R----, the officer. -'Which do you want to do, sir--get your snuff-box, or punish the man? -You can't do both, you know.' 'To get my snuff-box,' I replied; 'so if -you can manage that for me, I can contrive not to be quite sure of his -identity, you know.' 'No, no, sir,' said R----, with a wink of his -eye, 'that's no go; you must swear to him positively, otherwise the -fellows will think you've got no hold of him, and they'll keep the -yellow. You be quite sure, and we'll have an alibi ready.' So you see, -Ernstein, I am going to play my part in a pretty farce." - -As he spoke the last words, the cabriolet rolled up to the door of the -police-office, in Bow-street, round which were standing numerous -groups of men and women, whose character was anything but doubtful, -and whose appearance was certainly by no means prepossessing, whatever -their practices might be. There might be seen the face pale and -swollen from habitual drunkenness, looking like a moulded lump of -unbaked dough, with an expression which will bear no logical -description, though it was marked and peculiar enough. It was the -expression of stupid cunning, if one may use such a term, and is -seldom to be met with, except in the countenances of those in whom -drunkenness is only an accessory to other vices. There, too, might be -beheld all the terrible marks, with which crime brands upon the -forehead of the guilty the history of their faults and punishment. The -red vermilion lines about the mouth and eyelids; the swelled and -sometimes blackened eyes; the face covered with many a patch and -plaster; the hair rugged and dirty; the dull, downcast look, not of -active but of passive despair, seeing nothing round it, but fixing the -corporeal eyes upon blankness, while looking with its mental eyes into -itself. Oh! who can tell what it must be sometimes for the spirit to -stare into the dark cavern of the heart, with that heavy, straining -gaze, ineffectual, hopeless, finding nothing there--nothing to solace -or to soothe; nothing to elevate or to support; nothing from the past, -nothing for the future; nothing to be derived from memory; nothing to -be bestowed on hope. Nothing!--nothing! All blank darkness, blotted -over with the night of crime! - -Through a crowd of such beings standing round the door of the -police-office in Bow-street, Morley and his friend drove up to the -side of the pavement, and jumped out of the cabriolet, while Lieberg's -young groom sprang to the head of the tall, powerful horse, who seemed -as if he could have run away with him like a feather, and held him -firm with both hands, like a small bull-dog pinning an immense bull. -Along the dirty passage, the wainscoted walls of which, on either -side, about five feet from the ground, were traced with a -long-continued smear of greasy black, from the incessant rubbing of -human shoulders, Lieberg, and his companion, walked on--one or two -very doubtful-looking people giving way before the two swells, as they -internally termed them--into the room where the magistrates were -sitting. - -There were several persons already at the bar, and in the place -assigned to the attorneys were various shrewd-looking, keen-faced men, -with eyes full of business, while in one or two instances an -ostentatious blue bag appeared beside them. More than one personage, -however, who seemed merely, an idler, was also amongst the select; -while at the back of the part appropriated to the people, chatting -carelessly over totally different subjects, was a group of friendly -officers and pickpockets, screened from the bench and the bar by a -tolerable thick row of human heads, male and female, through the -interstices between which, a girl of fourteen, who seemed already a -prostitute, and a boy somewhat younger, were striving to get a view of -what was passing at the bar. The court itself possessed an atmosphere -redolent of a peculiarly disagreeable smell of human nature, mixed -with second-hand whiffs of beer, tobacco, and gin, which, to the more -refined noses of the two gentlemen who now entered the court, and -especially to that of Morley Ernstein, which was principally -accustomed to the free air and sweet scents of the country, was -anything but fragrant. - -The case before the magistrates was disposed of ere any notice was -taken of Lieberg and his companion; but then, the gentleman who had -relieved him of his snuff-box on the night before, being placed at the -bar, and the rank, station, and appearance, of the two friends being -taken into due consideration by His Worship, they were invited to take -their places on the bench, and the charge was entered into. Lieberg -detailed the whole affair, and swore to the prisoner's identity; a -keen-faced man asked him several questions on behalf of the prisoner, -and the magistrate, after giving the personage at the bar a proper -warning not to say anything more than he liked, interrogated him in -turn. - -The man positively declared, that the gentleman must be mistaken, -affirming, with a sly look and half-suppressed grin, that he did not -mean to impeach the truth and honour of such a gentleman as he was, -but that there was a mistake somewhere; for at that very hour, and for -a full hour before and after, he was with a club called the "Rum -Fellows," which met weekly at a certain house that he named. Very -honest men, they were, he said, though they was Rum Fellows, and a -number of respectable tradesmen too. He could prove it, he said, for -there were lots of witnesses. He would call one immediately, whom he -had sent for as soon as he was taken up. - -He accordingly called a Mr. Higgins, but for a moment or two Mr. -Higgins did not appear, and there was a murmur ran through the court -in consequence, which no one took pains to keep from the ears of the -bench, of, "where is he? where is he?--where's Bill Jones's alibi?" -and at length the call for Bill Jones's alibi was roared with a -stentorian voice along the passage, and transmitted to the -public-house on the opposite side of the street. - -A moment after, in rushed a short, stout, swarthy man, very well -dressed, after the fashion of a respectable tradesman. His coal-black -hair was as smooth as a mirror; his linen was clean, and white; he had -a pair of drab gaiters upon his sturdy legs, a black coat, a Marcellas -waistcoat, and a coloured handkerchief. His eyes were black and large, -his teeth fine and white, and on a fat little finger he wore a fat, -long ring. He was a little out of breath with haste, and, as he -appeared before the magistrates, he wiped from the corners of his -mouth the last vestiges of what the people of that place generally -term "something _short_," which he had taken to keep him fresh -before the court. He bowed low to the sitting magistrates, low to -Lieberg and to Ernstein, and then nodded to the prisoner at the bar, -exclaiming--"Ah, Bill! what's the matter? Surely you did not get drunk -last night after you left us!" - -His innocent mind being enlightened, in regard to the charge against -his friend, he swore most positively, that Bill Jones had been with -him and others, at a public-house named the "George," celebrating the -mysteries of a club called the "Rum Fellows," at the very hour when -Colonel Lieberg's snuff-box had been extracted from his pocket. He -swore that the said Bill Jones had been there an hour before and an -hour afterwards; and he did, moreover, what, to the uninitiated, might -seem a dangerous proceeding--that is to say, he entered into minute -particulars as to what Bill Jones said or did on that occasion. - -"Well, then, Mr. Higgins," said the magistrate, "if such be the case, -there must be, doubtless, others of your club who can swear to the -same facts as yourself; if the prisoner thinks fit, he can call -another witness." - -The prisoner was prepared upon this point also, and he accordingly -called a Mr. Farebrother. While Mr. Farebrother was being sought for, -Mr. Higgins thought fit to enlighten the court upon his profession, -saying, he did not see why his word should be disbelieved, as he was a -respectable tradesman. - -"Yes, Mr. Higgins," said the magistrate, "I know you; you are a -pawnbroker. You may go down." - -Mr. Farebrother presented an appearance the most opposite that it is -possible to imagine to that of his club-fellow, Mr. Higgins. He was a -small, thin, narrow-made man; with a coat of good quality, but -originally constructed for a much more considerable person than -himself. Indeed, he seemed to have a strong desire to be at room in -his clothes, for the slate-coloured trowsers with which his nether man -was ornamented, lapped vaguely over his shoes behind; which, if the -stockings were in harmony with those shoes, might be, upon the whole, -advantageous to him. His look was humble and sanctimonious, and, -either from tenderness of heart or of eyes, he had a weeping look -about him, which those who knew him believed to increase greatly under -reiterated tumblers of brandy and water. We need not enter largely -into the testimony which he gave; suffice it to say, he corroborated, -in every point, the testimony of Mr. Higgins, and the story of Bill -Jones. - -The magistrate, as a matter of form, asked him some shrewd, sensible -questions, premising them, however, by saying, in a low voice, to -Colonel Lieberg, "You wont convict him; the thing is too well got up." - -Mr. Farebrother resisted manfully every attempt to wring the truth -from him; he had more than once been under the hands of Mister -afterwards Baron Garrow, and, consequently, there was not an art by -which a witness can be made to forget or betray himself, that he was -not thoroughly acquainted with, and ready to resist. Having terminated -his examination, the magistrate turned to the accuser, with a silent -smile, as if asking--"What am I to do next?" - -"I certainly thought I was sure of the identity," said Lieberg, "and, -accordingly, swore to the fact; but, after what we have heard, I -suppose the matter must be given up." - -The magistrate accordingly dismissed the charge; but Bill Jones, who -stood upon character, seemed resolved to have the last word: "I hope, -your worship," he observed, "that I quit this bar with honour." - -"Pooh! nonsense!" said the magistrate. "Go along;" and the worthy -gentleman slunk out of court, like a dog, under the influence of fear. -Lieberg and Ernstein took leave, and departed also, followed, a step -behind, by R----, the officer, who had been standing near the prisoner -during the whole time. - -"I beg your pardon, Colonel," he said, as soon as they got into the -passage, "but I sha'n't be able to come up to you, to-day, so here's -your box;" and he pulled out of his pocket, and presented to Lieberg, -the splendid box, of which he had been robbed the night before. "The -men will expect you to stand something, sir," he said; "but I'll do -what's right, and let you know what it comes to to-morrow." - -"Do, do!" replied Lieberg. "But, harkye, R----, here's a young friend -of mine who wishes to become acquainted with what is going on in all -stations in society. Could you not give him a little insight into the -lives of such gentry as we have just seen?" - -"Lord bless you!--yes, sir," cried R----; "I will introduce him to -them all, if he likes; but, you know, sir, there's a proverb about -touching pitch." - -"If there's any danger in it," said Lieberg, "of course he had better -not." - -"Oh, no danger in life, sir!" replied R----; "as I will manage for -him; but he had better mind his watch, and his purse, and all that; or -leave them at home. The gentleman, I take it, wants a lark; and if -that's the case, he can have it; but it may cost him something, -perhaps." - -"It is not exactly a 'lark,' as you term it," replied Morley, in a -more serious and sedate tone than the officer had expected from his -years; "as my friend has told you, I want to see something of the mode -of life of these people, as well as others." - -"Oh! you are a flosofer, sir--are you?" said R----, "or, perhaps, a -flantrofist! Well, sir, there's no reason why you shouldn't. It may -cost a pound in lush, or what not; but as for your being safe, make -your mind at ease about that; they know me too well to meddle with -you. I wouldn't introduce you to any of that sort of fellows. Why, you -know, sir, there are only two kind of people that set about regularly -committing a murder. First of all, there's the fellow that knows he is -well nigh up to the mark; he gets not to care what he does, and takes -his chance of one thing or another. Those are the old, bad hands, that -have been at every kind of thing for many a long year, and having got -down low, are not able to keep upon the quiet lay, but must make some -grand stroke to set them up altogether, or send them to the drop. Then -there are others, sir, that do it unaccountably--men that haven't been -half so bad as some others, who seem to take it into their head all of -a sudden; those are the fellows that give us the greatest trouble, for -we are not up to them; and sometimes we may be a week or ten days -before we find out who has done it. But I wont put you in the way of -anything that is dangerous. The best thing I can do for you, is, to -make you acquainted with Master Higgins, there; you'll find him a very -gentlemanly sort of man, and as he lost, I suppose, a matter of three -or four pounds upon this snuff-box, it is but right to be civil to -him. I could take you over there, sir, where they have gone to talk of -the affair; but I think you had better let me bring him to you -to-night, and then you can settle the matter together." - -This plan was accordingly agreed upon; Morley gave his address to the -officer, and as soon as it was dark R---- entered the young -gentleman's sitting-room, in Berkeley-square. - -"Oh, you are alone, sir, are you?" said he. - -"Yes," replied Ernstein. "Have you not brought your friend with you?" - -"Oh, yes," replied R---; "but I have left him behind, there, in the -passage, talking with your servant, sir; for I thought you might have -somebody with you, and might not like to have him seen." - -Morley smiled at the officer's estimates of respectability; but he -merely replied, "Is he so well known, then?" - -"Oh, yes, sir; he is well known enough," said R----; "especially -amongst us. However, as a hood for what he was coming about, he -brought something to offer you for sale, as if he were a regular -tradesman." - -"Which, I suppose, he expects me to buy," said Morley, "as the price -of his favour and protection." - -"Oh, no, sir," answered R----; "you need not buy anything, unless you -like. He is always sure to get his market--it is the price that he -takes the things at which he makes by." - -"Well! bring him in, then," said Morley; "and we will talk about the -matter afterwards." - -Mr. Higgins was speedily introduced, and, as he entered, gave a rapid, -but very marking, glance round the whole room. It is probable, that -there was not a table, chair, or piece of china, down to the coffee -cup and saucer with which Morley was engaged when he entered, that he -would not have known again, had it been brought to pawn at his shop. -Mr. Higgins made a low bow to the inhabitant of the apartment, after -he had remarked upon the other things which it contained, and, seeing -that Morley was making as keen an investigation of his person as he -himself ever had made of any object for sale or pledge offered to him -by the children of vice and misery with whom he had generally to deal, -he thought fit to begin the conversation first, and cut short a -scrutiny of which he was not fond. - -"Mr. R---- has done me the honour, sir," he began, in very tolerable -language, "of bringing me here, because, he said you wished to see -some little things in my way;" and having uttered this very equivocal -sentence, he held his tongue, and left Morley to take it up in what -sense he chose. - -Morley was amused, but he replied in such a manner as still to leave -the task of explanation to the other. - -"I am very much obliged to Mr. R----," he said. "Pray, what have you -got to shew me?" - -The man grinned, to find that the young gentleman could deal in -equivoques, as well as himself. Ere he answered, he gave an approving -wink of the eye to the Officer, which might have been translated, -perhaps--"He is not a fool, after all, though he is gentleman." -However, he would not be brought to the point; and putting his hand in -his pocket, he produced a small shagreen case, which he opened, and -laid on the table before Morley Ernstein; displaying to the wondering -eyes of the young baronet, a pair of very beautiful diamond ear-rings. -Morley gazed at them for a moment or two, in no small surprise. - -"They are very handsome, indeed," he said, at length--"they are very -handsome, indeed, as far as I am any judge of such things; but, pray, -what do you intend me to do with these?" - -"To buy them, sir," replied the man, quite coolly. - -"I hope not to wear them, too," said Morley, "for that I shall -scarcely consent to." - -"O no, sir!" answered Mr. Higgins, laughing; "but such gentlemen as -you, are always wanting diamond ear-rings. Why, there isn't one of all -those ladies that you want to make a present to, who would not say -they are as handsome a pair as ever were seen. I will let you have -them a great bargain, too. Why, Lord ----'s young lady sold me a pair, -the other day, for twice the money, which he had given her only two -days before." - -"A pleasant comment on such sort of connexions," thought Morley -Ernstein; but he answered, aloud--"There is one objection to my taking -these, even if I did want them, my good friend--namely, that I do not -exactly know where they may come from." - -The man paused, and stared in his face for a moment. - -"Ha, now I take you, sir--now I take you!" he cried, at length. "But I -can assure you, you are mistaken; they are not exactly mine. I am -disposing of them for another party; but I think if you knew what an -act of charity you are doing in buying them, you would give the full -money willingly enough, and perhaps something into the bargain." - -"Indeed!" said Morley, with his curiosity somewhat excited; "pray, who -do they belong to?" - -"Oh, as nice a young lady, sir, as ever lived!" replied the man. "Her -father was a clergyman, and her mother a lady of good fortune, and -amongst the tip-top of the world; but there was a law-suit about the -mother's fortune, to whom these ear-rings belonged, I have heard, and -that ruined her husband, and broke her heart. She died first, and the -parson not long after; and they left this daughter and a boy, who is a -wild one, with about a couple of hundred between them, and some -nic-nacs. Well, the boy soon got through his money, and his sister's -too; and from time to time he came to me, with a lot of things to -sell: His sister, he let out the other day, had kept him and herself -too by teaching; but now she hasn't had much to do for some time, -because she fell ill in the winter, and so lost her pupils. They are -well nigh starving, the boy tells me, and in the end she is driven to -sell her mother's ear-rings. She only asks forty pounds for them, -sir--I think they are worth a hundred." - -The story had every appearance of truth about it to the mind of Morley -Ernstein. Such things were very likely to happen; and the man told it, -too, like a true story. After asking why Mr. Higgins did not buy the -diamonds himself, and receiving the satisfactory answer, that he had -bought just such a pair before from Lord ----'s young lady, and could -not afford to buy two, as well as having received truth-like replies -to one or two other questions, Morley made up his mind somewhat -precipitately to do three things: to purchase the ear-rings, to find -out the brother, and to see if, through him, he could not do something -for the sister. - -"Pray, where does this young man live?" he said, after having -concluded the purchase; "do you think he will have any objection to -speak with me about his affairs?" - -"Oh, not he, sir!" cried the man; "the young scamp don't mind talking -about them to the whole world. He's no shame left! He lives at No. 3, -Dover-street, New-road, and his sister too. A prettier girl I never -saw, in all the course of my life, for I went there one day." - -Morley put down the address; and having dismissed this subject, and -arranged to make an expedition with the worthy Mr. Higgins, into some -of the most reputable resorts of rogues and vagabonds, on the -succeeding night, he suffered him and R---- to depart, waiting with -some impatience for the following morning, when he proposed to put his -Quixotic purpose, regarding the sellers of the diamond earrings, into -execution. - -When the Officer and Higgins were on the pavement of Berkeley-square, -the former whistled three bars of an air as popular in its day as the -elegant tune of Jim Crow has been within our own recollection. These -bars were whistled with emphasis, which ought in all grammars to be -considered as an additional part of speech, adding more significance -to a sentence than either noun or verb. Higgins seemed to understand -perfectly well what he meant, and said, in a tone of reply-- - -"He wants to see life, Master R----. We'll shew it him, wont we? His -old servant told me that he was a tender-hearted young gentleman, and -did a world of good in his own parish!" - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - - -Morley Ernstein made all sorts of good resolutions--that is to say, -not virtuous resolutions, because, as yet, there was no temptation for -him to be otherwise; but worldly good resolutions--the resolutions of -prudence, propriety, economy. In short, all those sort of resolutions -which one makes when one has fixed upon a certain line of conduct, -from feeling rather than from judgment, and wish to enchain our -purpose in its execution, by the exercise of that very power whose -sway we have cast off. Morley Ernstein resolved, then, that he would -inquire into all the facts with the most scrupulous accuracy; that he -would not assist this young man and his sister beyond a certain point; -that he would not assist the youth at all, unless he found that there -were hopes of amendment; and that, should such not be the case, he -would employ the intervention of Mr. Hamilton to give aid to the young -lady. No one on earth can doubt that these were all very prudent -resolutions. If he had been forty, he could not have been more -reasonable, though, probably, if he had been forty, he never would -have formed them. But resolutions are always the sport of accident, -and however harsh and hard it may be to say, yet I fear it is -nevertheless true, that the course of conduct which needs to be -guarded with such scrupulous care, had better never to be entered upon -at all. - -To return to Morley Ernstein. At the hour of eleven, his new -cabriolet, which the poetical coachmaker had assured him would roll -over the pavement like a cloud through the sky, and one of his new -horses, which, if the same figurative personage had beheld him, would -most likely have been compared to the wind impelling the cloud, were -at the door of the hotel, together with a groom upon the most approved -scale, bearing gloves as white as the Horse Guards', and the usual -neat, but unaccountable sort of clothing, called leather breeches and -top-boots. Morley Ernstein descended with a slow step, entered his -cabriolet thoughtfully, and drove towards the house to which he had -been addressed, not going above a mile out of his way, in consequence -of his ignorance of all those narrow turnings and windings which a -professed London coachman is fond of taking. The street was a small -one, and evidently a poor one, but Morley Ernstein had expected -nothing else, and the house was neat and clean, with a white doorstep, -a clean door, and a small brass knocker. The young gentleman's groom, -by his directions, applied his hand to the implement of noise, and -produced a roll of repeated knocks, which, in any other country, would -be held as a nuisance. A few minutes after, a neat maid-servant -presented herself, and, in answer to the question, "Is Mr. William -Barham at home?" replied in the affirmative. - -Morley Ernstein then descended, gave his name, and was ushered up a -flight of stairs, having a centre line of neat stair carpet, not much -wider than one's hand. The drawing-room into which he was shewn was -very nicely furnished with a number of little ornaments, not indeed of -the kind that could be purchased, but of the sort which a dexterous -and tasteful female-hand can produce, to trick out and decorate the -simplest habitation. There was a small piano in one corner of the -room, a Spanish guitar, with a blue ribbon, lying on the sofa, a pile -of music on the top of the piano, some very well executed landscapes -lying, half finished, on the table, together with a box of colours, -and a glass of water. All, in short, bespoke taste and skill, and that -graceful occupation of leisure hours, which is so seldom found -uncombined with a fine mind. - -The room was empty of human beings, and while Morley was making his -survey, he heard the maid-servant run up stairs to another flight, and -say--"Master William--Master William, there is a gentleman below in -the drawing-room wishes to speak to you." - -There was no reply; and after some running about, the girl returned to -say, that Master William had gone out without her knowing it. As she -spoke, however, there was a knock at the door, and, exclaiming, "Oh! -there he is!" she ran down to open it. - -Morley Ernstein remained in the middle of the drawing-room, with the -door partly unclosen, so as to allow him to hear the murmur of voices -in the passage below, and the moment after, some light foot-steps -ascending the stairs. They were not the steps of a man, and ere he -could ask himself, "What next?" the door of the room opened wide, and -a young lady entered the room, whose appearance answered too well the -description which had been given, for him to doubt that she was the -late possessor of the diamond ear-rings. - -She seemed to be about nineteen; and, both in features and figure, was -exceedingly beautiful. Dressed in mourning, there could be no bright -colours in her apparel, but every garment was so arranged as -tastefully to suit the other; and the whole was in the very best -style, if not absolutely from the hands of the most fashionable -dressmaker. Yet all was plain--there was nothing at all superfluous; -and, indeed, her beauty required it not. The luxuriant dark hair -clustered under the close bonnet, and contrasted finely with the pure, -fair skin, warmed by a bright blush, like that of a rose, which one -could hardly believe that the air of London would leave long -unwithered. The large and dark, but soft eyes, spoke mind and feeling -too; though there was an occasional flash of brightness in them, which -seemed to say, that mirth had not always been so completely banished -as it seemed at this moment. The whole face looked but the more lovely -from the darkness of her garb; and the beautiful small foot and ancle -were certainly not displayed to disadvantage in the tight-fitting -black silk stockings and well-made shoe. She bowed distantly to -Morley, as she entered the room, with a look that expressed no sort of -pleasure, adding--"The servant tells me, sir, that you wish to see my -brother. He will be here in five minutes; for I left him only at a -little distance, at a shop where he wanted to purchase something. Will -you not sit down?" - -She pointed coldly to a chair, and as she spoke, began removing the -drawings from the table; but Morley replied--"Perhaps I had better -return again; I fear I interrupt you." - -The lady looked up with an air of hesitation-- - -"Indeed, sir," she said, after a moment's pause, "I do not know well -how to reply to you. My brother will be angry, perhaps, if I say what -I think, and yet--" - -Morley was not a little surprised at this unfinished reply, and he -answered, with interest, which, it is not to be denied, was increasing -every moment under all he heard and saw-- - -"Pray explain yourself, madam. I think you must be under some mistake; -but at all events, your brother cannot be made angry by what you say; -for of course, unless you desire it, I shall never repeat it to him, -or to any one." - -"Well then, sir," she said, gravely and sadly, "I was going to say, -however rude and harsh you may think it, that I certainly would rather -that you did not wait for my brother, and cannot but hope that he may -be absent also when you come again." - -Morley smiled at this very strange reception, but still he could not -help thinking that there was some mistake. "Indeed, Miss Barham." he -replied, "this is so unexpected and extraordinary, that I rather -believe you are in error regarding me." - -"Oh, no!" replied the lady in the same tone; "his description, sir, -was very accurate. Are you not Mr. Neville?" - -"Oh, no!" answered Morley, with a smile, "my name is Morley Ernstein, -and I came with a view of doing your brother good and not harm." - -"Ernstein!" she cried, starting with a wild look of joy and -satisfaction. "Morley Ernstein! Oh! then you are the gentleman whose -name was to the draft! It was you who bought the diamonds, then; but -my brother told me he had not seen you--that it was through a third -person--" and she blushed deeply as she spoke. - -"He said true, miss Barham," replied Morley; "it was through another -person, but from that other person I learnt something of your own and -your brother's situation, in explanation of the cause for which the -diamonds were sold." - -"Oh! they should not have told all that!" murmured the young lady. -"How did they know it? It was sad enough to sell them at all!" and her -eyes filled with tears. - -"I made the inquiry," said Morley; "and came here, believe me, without -any intention of obtruding myself upon your confidence, but simply -with the intention of seeing your brother, and ascertaining whether -anything could be done for him. But now I am here," he added, "may I -venture to ask who is this Mr. Neville for whom you took me? I hope I -do not presume too far." - -"O no, sir," she answered, with a faint smile, accompanied by another -deep blush--"if you were aware, sir, of all that you have done by -giving that sum for the ear-rings, you would feel that you have a -claim to ask such a question. I do not know this Mr. Neville; my -brother says he is a man of fortune, but I do not believe it. I know, -however, that he has led William into sad extravagance, that he and -his companions have ruined him, and that William has ruined me, -leaving me literally destitute, till your kindly taking those trinkets -at a price I am afraid too high, has set me free from the difficulty -that pressed upon me." - -It may well be believed, that a young man of one-and-twenty, with a -heart not the coldest in the world, began to feel some sensations of -satisfaction at having met with the sister rather than the brother, -notwithstanding all the good resolutions he had previously made. - -"I have the ear-rings with me now," said Morley; "you will easily -understand that I had no object in buying such things but to afford a -little assistance where it seemed needful. I am aware that it has -caused you much pain to part with these jewels. You must take them -again, and keep the money as a loan, till such time as it is quite -convenient for you or your brother to pay me;" and taking out of his -pocket the little case which he had previously sealed up, he offered -to return it. - -The fair girl drew back, however, though not without a look of -pleasure. - -"Oh, no!" she answered, "I cannot take them. You must excuse me--I do -not borrow money of--of--." - -"Of a stranger you would say," said Morley. "But surely, miss Barham, -that objection may soon cure itself. When you know me better----." - -"Ah, then," she replied, "perhaps I might feel differently; but now, -I cannot, indeed--besides, if my brother knew----." - -"Would he be angry?" demanded Morley, thinking; "if such were the -case, the youth would be more scrupulous than had been represented." - -"Oh, no!" answered the young lady; "but he would think--he would--he -would--I cannot explain myself," she added. "But before he comes, let -me express my deep sense of your generosity and kindness, sir. It is -what one so seldom meets with, that it touches me the more." - -"Nay, then," said Morley, "shew that you do not reject it by keeping -these trinkets. I have no use for them--I can do nothing with them; -the money that I gave will never even be missed in my banker's -account; and, as I said before, you or your brother can pay me when -you can find it convenient. My object in coming here today," he added, -"was to see what could be done for him; and, as I was prepared to find -him somewhat wild and thoughtless, what you have said concerning him -has not surprised me. If I can befriend him, however, I will; but -whatever may result from this visit between him and me, let me, at all -events, be considered as a friend by you, Miss Barham." - -"You have acted like one, indeed, this day!" she answered, with the -tears rising in her eyes. - -"Well, then," said Morley, "as the first proof that you regard me as -such, take these things back: they only embarrass me." - -As he spoke, there was another loud knock at the door, and before the -quick step, which was instantly heard on the staircase, had reached -the room, Morley had placed the little case in Miss Barham's hand, and -she had received it with evident confusion and hesitation. The next -moment the door opened wide, and a young man, scarcely of eighteen -years of age, entered quickly, with his long and shining, but somewhat -dishevelled hair, tossed loosely about a face, quick and intelligent -enough, but bearing an expression both wild and cunning. His -complexion was very different from that of his sister, for he was very -pale and sallow, and there was a certain look of premature dissipation -about him, which is not easily to be mistaken. - -"Here is Neville, Helen!" he exclaimed, as he entered; but the instant -his eyes lighted upon Morley Ernstein, he started, and looked both -surprised and annoyed. - -Ere anything more could pass, however, a slower step was heard -mounting the staircase, and through the door, which the youth had left -open behind him, appeared a fashionably-dressed man coming up with an -air of easy nonchalance, as if he were entering the abode of people -very much below him, looking at his boot, which he tapped occasionally -with his cane, and not raising his eyes in the slightest degree -towards the drawing-room--though the door, as I have said, was -open--till he was upon the very threshold. When he did look up, -however, and saw the figure of Morley Ernstein standing exactly -opposite to him, he started, with an appearance of even greater -surprise than had been shewn by the brother of Miss Barham; and at the -same time his brow contracted, and his eye flashed, in a way that he -seemed to think very imposing, for it was evident that his whole -demeanour had much preparation in it. - -Morley, in the meantime, could hardly suppress a smile, at seeing the -man for whom he had been mistaken, and who had been described as so -much like himself. This Mr. Neville was certainly not less than -fifteen or sixteen years older; he was shorter, too, by two or three -inches, not nearly so powerful in make, and though dressed in the very -extreme of the fashion, which, in that day, was somewhat extravagant -in itself, he wanted that easy tone and indescribable grace which -marks the gentleman, both in mind and in station. - -The feelings of Miss Barham, however, were evidently anything but -pleasant, and it was with some satisfaction that Morley saw her draw -in a slight degree nearer to himself, as her brother and his companion -entered. All the parties gazed upon each other for a moment in -silence; but the very first words which were spoken, and which -proceeded from the lips of Mr. Neville, at once showed Morley that the -fable of the borrowed plumes might be acted in real life. "I say, -Barham!" he exclaimed--"what is all this, my boy?" - -Morley might perhaps have felt himself a little awkward at being found -alone with Miss Barham, by any high-toned man of his own class; it -might have produced an instant shyness--an uncertainty as to whether -he should explain the circumstance or not; but the words, the manner, -and the voice of the worthy who now entered, at once set him at his -ease. - -"Mr. Barham," he said, "I called here to speak a few words to you, -but as I find you are occupied, I shall take another opportunity." - -"And pray, sir, who may you be?" demanded Mr. Neville, not suffering -the young man to reply. - -"I really do not know, sir," said Morley Ernstein, looking at him from -head to foot, with a contemptuous air, "why I should answer you any -questions, until I know who it is that presumes to put them to me." - -"My name is Neville, sir--my name is Neville," exclaimed the other; -"have you anything to say to that?" - -"Nothing at all, sir," replied Morley, "as my business does not lie -with Mr. Neville, but with Mr. Barham." - -"But I am Mr. Barham's friend, sir," said Mr. Neville, "and he does -not seem to know you any more than I do. I am Mr. Barham's friend, I -say." - -"I am very sorry to hear it," replied Morley, calmly, though provoked; -"for, from all I can see, your acquaintance does not seem likely to be -advantageous to him." - -"Oh, sir! oh!" exclaimed the other, with a furious look--"now, I -insist upon having your card. I will have satisfaction, sir--I will -have satisfaction." - -"Nay, my dear young lady," said Morley, gently passing Miss Barham, -who was endeavouring to interpose; "I understand this gentleman, and -you do not.--I never give my card, sir, to people that I do not know. -If you are the sort of person I take you to be, such satisfaction as a -horsewhip may give, you shall command. If you be not such a personage, -and prove the fact to my conviction, I will either make you an -apology, or meet you in the way that you require. Stand out of the -way, sir, for I am very likely, at this moment, to throw you from the -top of the stairs to the bottom. Mr. Barham, I much wish to have a few -words of conversation with you, and if you could make it convenient to -call upon me to night, at Thomas's, in Berkeley-square, towards seven -o'clock, I should be glad to see you. You will ask for Sir Morley -Ernstein. Miss Barham, I shall have the honour of paying my respects -to you on another occasion." - -"Missed fire, by Jove!"--exclaimed Mr. Neville, as Morley descended -the stairs, opened the door, and beckoned to his cabriolet, which was -wandering up and down the street--"I say, what's to be done now? That -bird's worth plucking, and you are a fool if you don't do it. I must -have a feather, too, if it can be managed--but pray, introduce me to -your sister. Miss Barham, how do you do?" - -Miss Barham drew back. "I must beg to decline the introduction, sir," -she said; "I have no inclination to make your acquaintance; I told -William so, this morning, and he might have saved me the pain of -seeing you here, as his only pretext was an appointment to meet you, -and it seems that you had joined each other before you came in." - -"Hey! how is this, Barham?" exclaimed the other; "I thought you had -talked to her about it all." - -"So I did," replied William Barham; "but she is foolish. I tell you -what, Helen; this wont do--you don't know what you are about; and it -is all nonsense, too, because you have often told me about such things -that--" - -"It will so far do, William," replied Helen Barham, interrupting him, -"that I will beg you will leave me my rooms to myself. If you do not, -I must take means to free myself from society I do not like." - -Thus saying, she passed through the door leading into another chamber, -and was heard to lock it behind her. - -"Leave me with her, Neville," said her brother--"leave me with her; I -will bring her to, and will join you in an hour at Williams's." - -"Well, mind you!" cried the other, somewhat sternly--"remember, my -lad, I have got my thumb upon you!" and uttering these words, Mr. -Neville marched out of the room. As soon as the door of the house -closed upon him, the youth knocked gently at that of his sister's -room. "Helen!" he exclaimed; "Helen!--he is gone. Do come out and -speak to me, there is a dear girl!" - -Helen Barham did come out; but her eyes were red with tears. "Oh, -William!" she said, "I wonder you are not ashamed to see me----" - -"Nonsense, Helen," he cried, "I have often heard you laugh at idle -prejudices." - -"Fie--fie!" she continued, not attending to him; "to wish to sell -your sister to such a being as that! I did say that there is nothing I -would not do to save you from destruction, but--oh! William----" - -"Well, then, Helen," he said, "this is the only way of saving me from -destruction." - -"Not now, William," she exclaimed, "not now! The money which you got -for the ear-rings will do for some time, surely; and before that is -spent, I may get some other means of keeping myself and you." - -"You will never get enough to keep us comfortably," replied the youth; -"and as to that, it does not matter whether you do or not; I tell you, -the only way to save me from destruction, is----" - -"Is by my own, you would say," replied his sister. - -"Stuff and nonsense!" answered her brother; "they never hang people -for that, Helen; and I tell you, that man could hang me, or very near -it, if he chose." - -The face of Helen Barham turned as pale as death, and she sank into a -chair without any reply, gazing in her brother's countenance, with -silent agony, for several moments. - -"It is true, Helen," said her brother, doggedly, and setting his teeth -hard, "it is true what I tell you." - -"Whoever heard of such horror!" exclaimed Helen Barham. "The brother -would sell his sister, to be the mistress of a low-bred, horrible -villain; and that villain would hang the brother, if the sister will -not consent to her own destruction. Is that it, William?" - -"Not exactly," replied the youth; "you twist the matter which way you -please, Helen. I said he could hang me if he liked, not that he would; -and as for the rest, Helen, I don't sell you. I only want you to do -the best for yourself, and for me too. You can never get enough by -teaching, to keep me or you either. You are fond enough of fine -clothes, I can tell you; and here's a man will give you as many as you -want. He will settle five hundred a-year on you, just as if you were -his wife. He can't marry you, you know, because he is married -already." - -"Hush! hush! hush!" cried Helen Barham, stopping her ears "hush! and -leave me. Do not make me hate myself! What did I ever say, William, to -make you think that I would become any man's mistress for fine -clothes?" - -"No," replied her brother, "but I have heard you say that marriage is -love; that a man and woman who have promised themselves to each other, -ought to consider themselves just as much married as if all the -ceremonies in the world had passed between them." - -Helen hid her eyes in her hands, saying, "I have been very foolish, -William, and I have talked wildly; but you have misunderstood -me--sadly, too. I meant, that they had never a right to break that -promise. Love!--can you talk to me of love with such a man as that?" - -"Why, I suppose, then, you are in love with the other I found here," -said her brother. "Pray, what was he doing here with you alone?--What -is it he wants with me, too?" - -"He wants," exclaimed Helen, her face brightening up with renewed -hope--"he wants to save you, William; he wants to aid you--to deliver -you, if you will let him. Go to him, William--go to him; tell him the -whole--tell him all the truth, and, I am sure, if it be in the power -of man to help you, he will. He is generous and kind; and came here -for the purpose of assisting you; he came not to see me; but the man -from whom he bought the diamonds told him something about you, and he -came on purpose to offer you aid." - -"That old fool, Higgins, has made a blunder," said the youth, -thoughtfully; "I'll go and call upon him, Helen, and see if anything -can be got out of him; but, as to telling him the whole, you do not -think me such a fool, do you, to put my neck in two men's power, -because it happens to be in that of one? You seem to be mightily -smitten with him, Helen; and perhaps might not object to the -arrangement there, eh? But, I'll tell you what--that wont do, my lady. -Neville's the man, depend upon it; and I insist that you treat him -civilly, at least. For to-day, I must quiet matters down as well as I -can, but to-morrow I shall bring him here to tea." - -Helen Barham again burst into tears, and in that state the youth left -her. But ere half an hour was over, Mr. Neville was again in the -house, and, passing by the maid, he entered the drawing-room -unannounced, saying, he "only wanted to speak two words to Miss -Barham." He certainly was not long with her, and what he said was in a -low tone, for the maid, who was not at all inquisitive, could not -catch the words through the keyhole of the door. In less than a minute -and a half, he quitted the house again, and the maid looked at him -from the parlour-window, as he mounted a beautiful horse and rode -away. The moment after, she heard something heavy fall in the room -above, and running up, found Helen Barham lying senseless on the -floor. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - - -I a not fond of scenes of low vice; I love not to dwell upon them. -Although in endeavouring to form for myself a just estimate of human -nature, to learn, for the sake of comparing them, the effects produced -upon the mind of man by every station of life, and every earthly -pursuit, I have visited the haunts of the low and the guilty, and -mingled, for a brief season, with the profligate, the criminal, and -the base, in many of the countries that my feet have trod, yet I look -back upon such moments, and such scenes, as a physician may be -supposed to look back upon the lazar-house and the plague-hospital, -whither he has gone for instruction, but which he recollects with -horror and with pain. - -What was very justly said, by a man who had made acquaintance, -actuated by no evil views, with that most miserable class of -beings--the fallen women of a great city--that "each carries a tragedy -about with her," may well be said of the criminals who every day -expose themselves to fresh punishment by fresh crimes. It is not, -indeed, with the latter as with the other unhappy beings I have just -mentioned, that there is always a fund of broken hopes and lost -affections and crushed sensibilities; for man, made of sterner stuff, -often strides on rapidly into evil by his own choice, and corrupts -himself with his eyes open. With men the tragedy is not enacted in -their own heart; it is amongst parents, relations, friends--amongst -those who have built up their hopes and loves upon a being who shakes -them all to the ground, and leaves scarcely a ruin standing. But even -were it not for this--were the criminal alone in all the world--had he -disappointed no father's brightest wishes--had broken no mother's -heart had he never scattered dismay and sorrow round the fond domestic -hearth, nor cast the shadow of the Upas on the hearts of brothers and -sisters, surely the degradation of high intellect, the debasement of -all man's powers, corporeal and mental, the extinction of bright -innocence, the condemnation of an immortal spirit, are tragic acts, -enough to wring the heart of even the sternest when he beholds crime. -It is the apathy of age, the deadened sense of habit, or the levity of -youth, that enable us all to walk almost indifferent through scenes, -where, every day, sorrow, and sin, and destruction, are taking hold of -beings like ourselves. - -The character of Morley Ernstein, as I have before depicted it, will -enable the reader to judge easily of the feelings with which he -visited, in company with Mr. Higgins, one of the nocturnal meetings of -a body of notorious criminals. The eager and impetuous part of his -nature was, for the time, predominant; and the spirit of adventure -which the act implied, heightened by a change of dress, with which the -worthy pawnbroker had furnished him, and the novelty of the whole -scene, made him feel amused rather than otherwise, and caused him to -forget altogether the more painful aspect of that which was before his -eyes. - -I will not dwell upon all that took place, though, for reasons which -will be seen hereafter, it is necessary to touch upon these events in -some degree. Suffice it to say, that Mr. Higgins introduced his young -friend, pledged himself for his _honesty_, and bestowed such -commendations upon him as the society and the circumstances required. -Morley, not very many years before, had been at a public school, -where, amongst other branches of learning, nothing is acquired more -thoroughly than the art of making one's way in every sort of male -society. On this occasion he gave himself up to the impulse of the -moment, and, without affecting to talk their slang, or imitate their -manners, he soon found himself highly popular amongst the ruffians by -whom he was surrounded. There was a blithe jollity about them, which, -probably, nothing but utter recklessness of all that others hold dear -could produce; and one of the men in particular, whom the rest called -Harry Martin, had a gay, good-humoured frankness; a daring, insolent, -but cheerful merriment, which Morley could very well conceive might -prove not a little engaging to persons of his own class. Martin also -seemed struck and amused with Morley, laughed with him, talked with -him, tried to make him drink, and, not being successful, had many a -joke at his puny habits, even while he evidently admired his -self-command. - -After having remained with these men for about an hour, Morley -perceived a note brought in, or rather a scrap of paper, for it was -not doubled up into the form of a letter, which, being handed to Harry -Martin, he replied--"Oh, very well;" and pushed it over to Higgins. A -momentary consultation ensued, and then a youth of about two or three -and twenty was singled out, and placed at the top of the table, when -Martin, pulling out a handsome gold watch, remarked, aloud-- - -"It is now half-past nine, gentlemen; and this is our friend, Billy -Barham." - -Morley Ernstein stared. Although the name was similar, there was not -the least resemblance in the world, between the Billy Barham before -his eyes, and the William Barham whom he had seen in the morning. -However, everything went on as before; Billy Barham laughing, -drinking, and talking with the rest, and his friends around always -taking especial care to address him by his two names. - -After a certain space of time, Morley found the scene begin to grow -tiresome. It was not exactly what he had expected; there was less -distinctive character about it than he had imagined he should find; -very little, indeed, to bring away, or which could bear in any degree -upon views of philosophy, or serve the purposes of instruction. He -accordingly gave Higgins, who sat next to him, the signal that had -been agreed upon, as indicating his wish to depart. - -"Stay a bit, sir," whispered Higgins--"stay a bit. We mustn't go yet, -the time's not up." - -Morley accordingly remained, till Higgins informed him that they might -go, adding, in the same low tone--"You'll pay for the lush, I -suppose." - -"Oh, yes!" replied Morley; but, upon putting his hand into his pocket, -where he had left a few sovereigns for accidental expenses, he found -that they had disappeared. He uttered not a word, however, in regard -to his suspicions, though he saw the eyes of Higgins, Martin, and one -or two others upon him at the moment. - -"Come, Mr. Higgins," he said, "you know me well enough to trust me. -You pay the reckoning for us all, for I have forgot to bring any -money." - -"That's a hearty, now!" cried Martin, tossing down the sovereigns upon -the table--"they've been handed up to me; but I wouldn't take them -from such a fellow, for my little finger." - -"Well then," said Morley, leaving them on the table--"let all that is -over the reckoning, be spent by the party, and so good night to you -all." - -"We'll drink your health, sir!" cried one of the persons present, and -with such benediction, Morley and Higgins were suffered to depart. - -"And now, Mr. Higgins," said Morley, as, after treading a great number -of narrow streets, they entered King-street, Covent Garden--"pray, -tell me, was that young man's name--I mean the one they took up to the -top of the table--really William Barham, as well as the youth you -mentioned to me yesterday?" - -"Lord bless you!--no, sir," replied Higgins, "no more than yours!" - -"Then, why did they call him so?" demanded Morley Ernstein. - -"Why, that's a bit of a secret, sir," replied Higgins; "but, however, -I don't mind telling you; and now, let me see how I can manage to make -you understand. You know something of an alibi already, I think, sir. -Well, you see, many a good witness might be caught tripping, if he -were to come into court with a story told him by another: and so, when -we know that any one is upon the lay, or have notice given us that -something's going on, where such and such men that we know may chance -to put themselves in need of an alibi, we call one or two of the -fellows present, by the names of the men that are out, and talk to -them all night as such. Then every man that is there present, can -swear with a safe conscience, that he saw Billy Barham, or any one -else, at this house or that, and he can swear to the place, and name -what was said, and be quite sure that if any one else is called he -will swear to the same likewise; so that there can be no contradicting -oneself or one another. That's the way we get up an alibi. So, you -see, to-night some one sent in to say that Billy Barham was out upon -some job; and though he did not tell us himself, we did the thing just -out of kindness to him, because he's a young hand. But it wont do, -sir; he'll get pulled up some of these days! He is going it a great -deal too fast." - -"I should think so, indeed," said Morley; "and, pray, Mr. Higgins, -who is a personage named Neville?" - -"Oh, sir," replied Higgins, "Neville was what we call a _prime swell_; -he's getting a little bit down now, but I can recollect the time when -his line of business was altogether on the race-course, and at certain -houses in the neighbourhood of St. James's. Then he took to getting -money by lending it, and as long as he kept to pianoforte selling, and -all that, it did very well; but he was fool enough to let a story get -into the papers, about his filching some bills, and though the -serjeant cleared him of that cleverly, it blowed him a great deal. -Then he got horsewhipped one day, and shewed a little bit of the white -feather, and that did him no good with any party. But, if you are -asking because of what happened this morning, I can put you up to all -that in no time." - -"Indeed!" said Morley. "Then you have heard all about this morning's -business, it seems." - -"To be sure!" replied Higgins. "The stupid young fool came to me -to-night, about six o'clock, or so, and told me the whole; so I shewed -him that Neville would never do for his sister, and told him what I -wanted to make up for her. I said to him: 'There's Sir Morley -Ernstein, he may do very well, if you like, and what he promises he'll -keep; but as for Neville, he may have a hundred pounds in his pocket -to-day, and not twopence to-morrow; and as for his doing what he says -he will, even when he can, there's no use in trusting to that.' We -know him well enough--Master Neville. He's not a man of honour, sir." - -A new light was beginning to shine upon Morley Ernstein; he was now, -indeed, seeing human existence, under a fresh aspect; he was too young -to be suspicious, but yet he had heard a good deal of the world, if he -had not mingled with it much; and the horrible scheme of villany and -vice, of which the reader is already aware, but which now first broke -upon him, made him ask himself, which were the agents, which the -victims, in the sad affair wherein he had himself become so suddenly -and unexpectedly a participator? or, was he alone the object of this -nefarious arrangement? Was Helen Barham, beautiful and high-minded as -she seemed, but a light woman, seeking for some new paramour; or was -she in reality what she appeared, and a mere victim to be immolated by -the criminal selfishness of her brother? He paused then, for several -minutes, without making any answer; he was, in fact, putting on his -armour, if one may so call it, finding himself suddenly attacked in a -manner that he did not expect. Accordingly, after some silence, he -replied, "Well, Mr. Higgins, I think you spoke quite reasonably. She -is a very beautiful girl, certainly. Pray, who did she live with -last?" - -"No, sir; no," said Mr. Higgins, with more warmth than Morley had -expected. "She never lived with anybody that I know of--no, I'm sure -she hasn't--but I'll tell you the plain truth of the matter. I have -been given to understand, that you are a gentleman that wants to see -life; now you know very well, sir, that young gentlemen that set out -upon that lay, make a point, in the first place, of picking up some -lady. Well, sir, what I've got to say is no bad compliment to you, -either. I had seen this youth--this William Barham--almost every day, -for the last three or four months; and I had heard all about his -sister from him, and how she had laboured to support him in his wild -ways. Well, sir, I found that now, having pawned or sold everything he -had in the world, and almost everything she had, too, and done a great -many other things besides, which we wont talk about, he was determined -to sell his sister at last to some one. So, sir, when I saw you, and -heard you talk, I thought that you were one who, if you did take the -young lady, would not treat her as some men do, but, if some time you -liked to marry, and part with her, would provide for her handsomely. -It was that made me put you up quietly to go into that house." - -"A very hopeful scheme, indeed!" said Morley. "But it seems to me, my -good friend, that this youth, who is, evidently, as hopeless a -scapegrace as ever cut a purse, or trod the drop, has other views for -his sister." - -"Ay, sir; he's a bad one," answered Mr. Higgins. "He's one that will -come to no good. He might have been in a very genteel way of business, -if he had liked it, without any risk either; but there's no keeping -him steady, and he's got into bad hands that don't care how soon they -ruin the young man altogether, provided they screen themselves." - -The moralizing vein of Mr. Higgins might, in some degree, have -surprised Morley Ernstein, had he not thought that there was something -equivocal in the good gentleman's expressions, and that, perhaps, what -he termed a genteel way of business, might be neither more nor less -than gambling, swindling, or thieving dexterously, and that the more -dangerous courses to which he alluded, might only be crimes easy of -detection. Mr. Higgins went on, however, after a moment's pause, -saying--"I can't help thinking, that young scoundrel has got himself -entangled with Neville, in a way that he'll not easily, break through; -Neville's got a string round his foot, I have a notion." - -"I do not understand exactly what you mean," replied Morley. - -"Why, I mean, sir," replied Higgins, "that the fellow has got Bill to -do something which might swing him, if Neville were to peach. I don't -know what it is, either; but I could soon know, if I liked." - -"Well, then," answered Morley, "I wish you would like, and let me -know; and if ten pounds or so will get at the matter, I should not -mind giving it, though you know very well that I would not use the -information to the young man's harm." - -"Oh, I understand, sir, what you want," replied Higgins, while at one -comprehensive view he saw every possible use that a gentleman, -situated as Sir Morley Ernstein was, could make of the intelligence he -was desirous of obtaining; and, remaining perfectly satisfied that the -object was to frustrate Neville, and at once to put brother and -sister into his own power, he repeated, with greater emphasis than -before,--"Oh, I understand, sir--I understand!" - -"You will almost always find me, Mr. Higgins," said Morley, "at about -six o'clock, when I come home to dress for dinner; and, of course, I -need not say that I should like the information as soon as possible." - -"You shall have it, sir--you shall have it," replied Higgins, "if not -to-morrow night, for certain, the night after." - -"So be it, then," replied Morley; "good night! Mr. Higgins;" and -taking his way homeward, he left his worthy companion to pursue his -path to the shop. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - - -At the hour of ten, on the following morning, Morley Ernstein sat at -breakfast with his friend Lieberg. He had come thither in haste, but -as his friend's servant was in the room, he had suffered the cup, the -saucer, the plate, the knife and fork, and every usual implement of -breakfast-eating, to be placed, before he touched upon the subject -which had brought him thither at that hour of the morning. As soon as -all was arranged, and Morley had scanned the whole of the beautiful -china upon the table, each piece of which was worth a Jew's eye--as -soon as the young gentleman himself had reached the middle term of his -first cup of coffee--as soon as some very thin broiled ham, and some -excellent caviare, looking like all the black eyes of a harem put -together, had been handed round--as soon, in short, as the servant, -having no pretext for staying longer, had retired from the room, -Morley Ernstein threw an open note across to Colonel Lieberg, -saying--"There, my dear Count, I have taken the liberty of referring -my gallant correspondent to yourself, though I fear it may make you -get up to-morrow an hour or two earlier than usual." - -Lieberg read it, and smiled. "That will be exactly as you please, -Ernstein," he replied. "Of course, you are aware that it is not the -least necessary for you to fight that man, unless you like it." - -"Oh, I will fight him, certainly!" replied Morley, "as a matter of -course. Having told him I would horsewhip him, or something -equivalent, I will not refuse to fight him, especially as he seems to -have got a friend to stand by him." - -"You mean this Captain Stallfed," said Lieberg; "who writes you the -note? The greatest rascal in Europe, my dear Morley, except Neville -himself! the one a common swindler, the other a blackleg, of the very -lowest character. Nevertheless, I think you are very right, for -several reasons. In the first place, every man should do a thing once -or twice in his life, just to get over the novelty of it, and to see -what it is like--a duel, as well as every thing else. In the next -place, having made up your mind to fight somebody, you could not -choose anybody better to fire at than Neville. Whether you hit him or -miss him, your conduct may well be regarded as philanthropical. If you -kill him, the benefit to society at large will be immense; if you miss -him, you restore to him a rag of that reputation which was never -otherwise than in a very tattered condition, and of which there is not -now a scrap left. Then, again, my dear Morley, as you are known to be -a gentleman and a man of honour, and I am known to be a man of the -world, with a tolerable portion of respectability also, your fighting -Neville, with Stallfed for his second, will be considered as the -surest proof that you are resolved to fight anybody and everybody that -asks you, as nothing could justify such a proceeding except that -resolution. This will have the effect of sparing you the chance of -twenty duels in times to come; for, depend upon it, in this brave -world of ours, the reputation of a readiness to fight keeps a man -clear of a thousand petty insults and annoyances. There is one thing, -however, which I very much doubt--namely, that these men will ever -give us the meeting at all." - -"That is their affair," answered Morley; "the honour of fighting this -man, I can assure you, Lieberg, is not what I can desire; but, of -course, one must either make up one's mind to meet a man, or set a -great guard upon one's tongue towards him." - -"I do not know that there is any 'or' in the question, Ernstein," -replied Lieberg; "with such a man as this, indeed, there are twenty -alternatives--kicking, horsewhipping, throwing out of the window, -sending him to Marlborough-street. But with any other sort of person, -there is nothing to be done but fighting when he asks you, for a man -of courage and a gentleman." - -"I differ with you, Lieberg," said Morley. "I can easily conceive, that -the man who upon principle refuses to fight a person to whom he gave -no reasonable cause for offence, may be both a man of courage and a -gentleman; but the man who chooses to give rein to his tongue against -another man, and then refuses to fight him, can be nothing but a -coward; and, therefore, though this Mr. Neville be a scamp, I will not -baulk him of his humour." - -"You will sadly disappoint him," answered Lieberg; "or, depend upon -it, he calculates upon your dislike to meet such a man as he is, and -hopes to make something of it, either as a salve for a sore -reputation, or a plaster for a broken purse. But come, Ernstein, pray -explain to me, if there be no secret in it, how you were brought in -contact with this very reputable personage. You really must have been -making your way in the world." - -Morley Ernstein found more difficulty in replying to Lieberg's -question than he anticipated. Between one-and-twenty, and seven or -eight-and-twenty, there is an extraordinary gap, a vaster space, at -least in general, than is to be found betwixt any other two periods of -life, with a similar interval of years. That gap is filled by the -curious thing called experience--a sort of vapour, through which we -see every object under a totally different aspect on the one side of -the space and the other--a smoke, raised from the burning of a great -bonfire, formed partly of certain weeds called hopes, enthusiasms, -confidences, expectations, and partly of certain withered sticks, -round which these weeds were accustomed to cling not ungracefully ---called illusions. To the eyes on the one side of this gap--I mean the -youthful one--a person standing on the other side seems so far off, -that it is scarcely possible for them to reach the hand unto them; and -such was the case with Morley Ernstein and Lieberg. That gap, and -perhaps more, was between them, and Morley was afraid that Lieberg -could not or would not understand him: or, to resume the figure -which I have twisted this way and that--somewhat too often, -perhaps--already, he was afraid of giving up to him any of those -flowering weeds whereof I have spoken--those enthusiasms, hopes, and -confidences--lest he should cast them down and burn them in the -bonfire of experience. - -That part of the affair which related to Helen Barham he did not like -to mention to one whose views were formed in a different school from -his own. He knew not what might be Lieberg's comments, what his -inferences, what he might say, what he might suspect; and there is -nothing that a young and high mind shrinks so timidly from as -suspicion; it is the cowardice of a generous heart. As the matter was -to be told, however, for he could not very well avoid it, he spoke -with his wonted candour of the whole affair, related the manner in -which the situation of Helen Barham and her brother had first been -brought to his knowledge, his interview with her, and the subsequent -conversation which he had had with good Mr. Higgins. But the demeanour -of Lieberg was very different from that which he had expected. Not a -smile appeared upon his lip which could have alarmed a heart the most -sensible to ridicule; not a word passed from his tongue which could -shock one feeling in Morley's breast. He listened in perfect silence, -with his eyes bent gravely on the ground, and remained without -answering for some moments after the other had done speaking. - -"This is a curious and interesting history," he said, at length; "and -has some of the strangest points in it that I know of. Many men in -London, who practically know as much of its ways as I do, but who -perhaps have not speculated upon them quite so philosophically as I -have, at least, tried to do, would conclude that a story thus told to -a young and inexperienced man of fortune, by a mere 'fence,' as they -call such fellows as Higgins, must be a trumped-up tale for the -purpose of cheating; the woman a loose woman, the boy a swindler, and -the man Neville merely brought in to give greater effect to the scene. -But I know better than this, Morley, and can very well conceive the -whole story to be true. Those who see a great deal of London will -find, if they do but take the trouble to investigate the matter -impartially, that even in the innermost recesses of vice and iniquity, -mingling with all that is wicked and bad in the very hearts of men -given up to various sorts of crime, there are peculiar virtues, good -qualities, bursts of feeling, touches of generosity, and even of -truth, which lie, like the jewels of Golconda, diamonds amongst mud, -or grow, like some of our most beautiful plants, from a soil formed of -filth and corruption. Do not misunderstand me: I do not mean to make -heroes of pickpockets and swindlers, forgers and housebreakers; but I -mean to say, that in the very blackest of them there is some good -point, some virtues carried to a high pitch--some which, perhaps I -might say, are almost peculiar to the hearts of vice. Many a man who -risks his life daily to take the money of another will give his own as -freely as water to one of his fellows in distress. The tenderness, I -have heard, with which some of the most abandoned women in Europe will -nurse a sick friend, is quite extraordinary; and a strong and active -feeling for sorrow and distress of every kind, is, I know, very much -more common amongst ruffians than amongst the pampered men of -pleasure. I can thus very well conceive that this good man, Higgins, -might be touched by compassion for the situation of this poor girl, -and lay out the plan that he says he has done, thinking it the very -best thing for her and for you too, in which, perhaps, he is right." - -Lieberg's last words were spoken calmly, deliberately, and -thoughtfully; and not the most learned argumentations in favour of -licentiousness would have been calculated to produce such a -demoralizing effect as the deliberate matter-of-course manner in which -he gave them utterance. It at once, in the very fewest possible words, -and with the least possible shock, placed before the mind of Morley -Ernstein the idea of seducing Helen Barham, and keeping her as a -mistress, in the light of something not at all evil, and perhaps -right; a thing to be considered, simply in regard to its convenience -and expediency, without the slightest reference in the world to the -morality or immorality of the transaction. Morley did not reply, but -remained with his eyes thoughtfully fixed upon the floor, meditating -over what he had just heard, and asking himself, it must be confessed, -whether there is really an absolute right and wrong in such matters, -or not. It is the most dangerous question that youth can ask itself, -not because it is difficult to answer--not because there should be any -doubt or hesitation on the subject. It is because passion not only -raises the voice against reason, but is sure to reiterate the same -demand a thousand times in every life, and often--too often, waits for -no reply. - -"You must see your way in the business clearly, Ernstein," continued -his friend, "and make very sure that you are not deceived in the -girl's character; but I am inclined to think with you, that she is -what she appears. However, one or two interviews will easily enable -you to ascertain the fact. Art never yet looked so like nature to -deceive an eye sharpened by doubt and in a reasonable head." - -"I shall most likely never see her again," replied Morley, "and -therefore shall have small opportunity of judging." - -"Indeed!--and why not?" demanded Lieberg. - -"Simply because I think it dangerous," replied Morley. "She is very -beautiful, very graceful, very charming. With such a brother it would -be quite beyond my most romantic ideas to make her my wife; and as to -the other sort of connexion which you speak of, I can conceive a man -being betrayed into it by accident, or rather by a combination of -unfortunate circumstances, but could never dream, for my own part at -least, of sitting down deliberately to plan such a thing. It does not -enter into my scheme of life, Lieberg." - -Lieberg laughed. - -"I know that I am not without strong passions," continued Morley, "as -well as you do. When I love, it will be vehemently, ardently; and -whatever may be her fortune or station, I will make that woman my wife -if she will become so. It is for this very reason that I do not choose -to run the risk of falling in love with any one that I would not -choose to marry. I shall therefore take care not to visit such -dangerous precincts again." - -"Well, if you don't, Ernstein," said Lieberg, "I think I shall." -Morley was mortified. "Perhaps, Lieberg," he replied, "if you do go, -you may not find the opportunity that you expect." - -"Nay, nay," answered Lieberg, laughing again; "you have no right to -excite one's compassion for this fair orphan, and then, with a -resolution to abandon her yourself, prevent any other generous man -from showing her his sympathy." - -"You mistake me," replied Morley, gravely. "I do not intend to abandon -her myself." - -"Why, you said you never intended to see her again!" exclaimed -Lieberg, with surprise. - -"I did," replied Morley; "but I intend also, Lieberg, the moment I -quit your house to go to that of my worthy friend, Mr. Hamilton, to -tell him this young lady's story; to beg him, with that prompt -benevolence for which he is famous, to investigate the whole -circumstances, and on my part to do whatever may be necessary to -enable Miss Barham to extricate herself from the situation in which -she is placed. I feel myself lucky in knowing such a man; his years -and character enable him to do what I could not do, and I can trust at -once to his wisdom and to his zealous benevolence." - -"You are quite right, Morley," answered Lieberg. "You are acting -generously and well--not perhaps so well for the girl's happiness as -if you had followed the other plan--but at all events, using -self-denial that will do you good, and neither doing yourself nor -making her do anything that is irretrievable. Heaven forbid that I -should interfere for a moment to spoil such a scheme! Every man in -life must calculate which he thinks will procure him the greatest sum -of happiness, keen joys or calm pleasures. One man will argue that the -joys--which undoubtedly are the brighter of the two commodities--are -only followed by those counterbalancing griefs which moralists tell us -of, in consequence of man's subserviency to various foolish prejudices -and unjust regulations in his artificial state of being. Others again -may contend that calm pleasures, though not so brilliant, are more -durable; that they are extended over a greater space; that if a man -obtains many joys and shakes off many griefs by throwing from him the -prejudices of society, on the other hand, the very struggle with those -prejudices is in itself an annoyance equal to the endurance of them -all. I have never calculated the matter very nicely myself, but I -recollect once going to see a fair cousin of mine who, when I went in, -was in the act of giving two of her sons some jelly, or jam, or -something of that kind. The one boy spread it thinly over a large -piece of bread and butter; the other ate it plain all at once; my -cousin, who was a very wise girl as well as a pretty one, let each do -as he liked; and I, who stood by and watched, thought that it was a -good picture and a good lesson of life." - -"You mean," said Morley, "that the one boy was the image of the man -who chooses the calmer pleasures spread over the greater space; the -other, the representation of him who gives himself up to the brighter, -but the briefer joys of life?" - -"And my cousins's conduct," replied Lieberg, "gave me the lesson of -letting every man do as he likes, and eat his bread and butter as he -pleases. Thus, my dear Morley, I say to you; make up your mind upon -the matter, and do as you think fit, though from all I have seen of -you, I should suspect that there never was a man in this world more -inclined by nature to eat his jam plain." - -Morley laughed, and Lieberg added, "At all events, I will not meddle -with your plans. I would not for the world, now I hear that you are -really going to do something to assist the poor girl; my own views -were very indefinite when I spoke of seeing her myself. My general -purpose was merely to free her from her present situation, in whatever -way seemed to me best suited to her own inclinations. However, I leave -the matter in your hands; and now to return to this business of -Neville and Stallfed. When the lesser of the two scoundrels comes to -me, I suppose I am to say that you refuse all apology." - -"Except such as can be conveyed by a horsewhip," replied Morley. - -"Nay, nay," said Lieberg, "we will not deal in such figures of speech. -I am to name a place and a time of course?" - -"The earliest possible," answered Morley. "I do not like such things -hanging over me." - -"To-morrow morning then," said Lieberg. "Primrose-hill, half past -five, a pair of my friend Joe's best, with all the improvements, and -we will soon settle Mr. Neville." - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - - -"Is Mr. Hamilton gone into the city yet?" demanded Ernstein, as the -door was opened to him by a servant who knew him well. - -"No, Sir Morley," replied the man, with a look which well might be the -harbinger of bad tidings. "Have you not heard, then, that my master -was taken very ill in the middle of the night, and we were obliged to -send for Doctor Warren?" - -"No, indeed," answered Morley; "and I am extremely sorry to hear it. -What is the matter, pray?" - -There has not been for many years a servant in England who rightly -knew what ailed his master or mistress; whether from a general -indifference to sickness and discomfort in others, or from that want -of sympathy between the two classes, which, under the fostering care -of what we call political institutions, is daily growing up amongst -us, I cannot tell. In former times, the good old blue-bottle--the -faithful serving man, in country or in town, who--very often born on -the estates of the master whom he served--never changed his place -during the course of a long life, but went on respected, from one -station in the household to another, till very likely, loaded with -years, he died in the arms of the grandson of him whom he first -served--he had a personal interest in each sensation of his master, -and watched the looks and words of the physician, to catch his augury -of good or evil. Now, however, when every kitchen in the land is more -or less a debating society, all such individual interests are merged -into considerations of the public weal; and the cosmopolite lackey -changes his place every two years to see the world, with a trembling -apprehension lest the progress of time should produce such a foolish -feeling as attachment towards a master. - -The servant of Mr. Hamilton, though a very respectable man, and a good -servant, as the world of London goes--that is to say, some four or -five shades better than an American help--had not the slightest idea -of what was the matter with his master, having only the disagreeable -impression on his mind that he, amongst other servants, had been -called up in the night, and had lost some four or five hours of rest. - -"Is Mrs. Hamilton visible?" demanded Morley, finding that no further -information was to be obtained from the man. - -"I dare say she is to you, sir," replied the servant; "though she bade -me not admit any one." - -"Send up, and ask," said Morley; and the butler at the same moment -appearing, declared that, of course, his mistress would see Sir Morley -Ernstein. - -That young gentleman was accordingly shewn into the drawing-room, and -Mrs. Hamilton soon after joining him there, gave him the unpleasant -tidings that his worthy guardian had been attacked by inflammation of -the lungs during the preceding night, and was in a state of imminent -danger. Morley was seriously grieved; for, having long been deprived -of his own father, he looked upon that gentleman in the light of a -parent. He felt also that his loss at the present moment might be far -more disastrous to him than the death of his own father had proved -many years before. Perfect quiet and tranquillity were, of course, -necessary to the invalid, and Morley did not press to see him, though -he felt an eager wish to do so; but turned his steps back towards -Berkeley-square, meditating and sad, with a shadow cast across the -bright thoughts of youth, like that flung upon the gay spring world by -the passing cloud of an April sky. - -On entering his own apartments in the hotel, a waiter followed him, -saying, with that sharp, quick tone peculiar to waiters, who always -speak as if there was, not a drawn sword, but a ringing bell hanging -over their heads--"Beg pardon, sir--forgot to tell you a young -gentleman called upon you last night, named Barham--eight o'clock. -Your servant out also--beg pardon, sir note came this morning--somehow -left down stairs till you were gone." - -Morley took the note; it was small, neat, well folded, addressed, in a -fine sort of a gossamer hand--"An invitation to dinner," he thought; -but when he opened it, the length at once shewed him he was mistaken. - -"How to excuse myself to you, sir, I know not," it ran; "how even to -exculpate myself in my own eyes, for venturing to address a gentleman -almost a stranger to me, with the request that I am about to make. The -only palliation for such conduct is, that in the short moment during -which I saw you, you shewed yourself generous and considerate, and -that you yourself expressed an interest, which could but spring from -noble benevolence, in the wretched boy who has ruined himself, and is -now striving to drag his sister down with him. After you were gone, -and the base man who has helped to destroy him had taken his -departure, I was made acquainted with the terrible secret of his -situation. It is so awful, it is so agonizing to me, that I have -remained all day in a state almost approaching madness, not knowing -how to act, torn by contending feelings, with no one to advise me, and -with no means of deliverance, abhorring my brother's conduct and -views, abhorring the base man that has us in his power, and yet bound, -by natural feeling and long affection, to save, at any risk and at any -sacrifice, the erring being who is still my brother, but seeing no way -of so doing without becoming the victim myself. You said, sir, that -you wished to save him, but, alas! he will not let you with his own -good will. He will seek to make you a prey--to extract money from you; -but he will not tell you the secret which places him in the power of -that horrible man. I am resolved to do so, if I can see you again; and -yet I fear, even by making the request that you would come to me, to -encounter, as perhaps I may deserve, your contempt at the same time as -your pity. Whether such be the case or not, I shall always remember, -with deep thankfulness, your past conduct, and ever remain your -unhappy but grateful servant, - -"HELEN BARHAM." - - -To fly to her at once, to give her every assistance and consolation in -his power, to treat her tenderly, kindly, generously, was the first -impulse of Morley Ernstein, and he obeyed it. He gave one casual -thought as to how he could act most prudently; but Mr. Hamilton's -illness had put all his wisely-constructed schemes to flight. He had -no one to trust to take counsel with, and though, to say truth, he -doubted himself where matters of passion were concerned, but one -course presented itself to his mind at the moment; and without waiting -for aught else than to put on his hat again, he was in the street the -minute after he had read Helen Barham's letter. - -It was some time ere he reached her dwelling, and he thus might have -had plenty of space for forethought and deliberation; but men of a -vehement temperament like himself, when approaching any particular -object, occupy the time, by corporeal efforts to get forward, which -they might employ in thoughts that would much more facilitate their -after progress. Morley was upon foot, and he strode on so rapidly, as -nearly to overturn half a dozen people in his way--sometimes having to -stop to apologize for his rudeness, sometimes half inclined to pause, -and punish some of those who made impertinent observations on his -haste--while all the cool considerations of right and propriety, with -which, during the last week, he had striven to bind himself down, were -now totally forgotten in the sole object of aiding the fair girl who -was thus cast upon him for assistance. - -If he was eager in the business at the first reading of the letter, he -had worked himself into more eagerness before he reached the door, and -it was only after the servant had said that her mistress was at home, -and his step was upon the stairs, that he began to think of calming -even his demeanour. He had but little opportunity, however, of doing -on those twelve or fifteen feet of stairs, what he had neglected to do -during a walk of a mile and a half. He did not give himself more time -than was necessary either, for the impetus still carried him on, and -he was treading on the maid's heels when she announced him. - -Helen Barham had evidently heard his knock, and knew it, for she was -standing on the other side of the table watching the opening door, -blushing up to the eyes, and looking far more beautiful with nothing -round her face but her own rich black hair, than she had done in her -walking-dress. She moved not--she spoke not, but remained with her -eyes fixed upon him, and the hand that rested on the table trembling -with emotion. Morley easily understood that she could not welcome -him, and advancing at once towards her, he took her hand in his, -saying--"Miss Barham, I fear you have thought me very negligent for -not coming earlier, but the people of the hotel stupidly neglected to -give me your note till after my return from calling upon two friends." - -"Oh, no!" she said, in a trembling and agitated voice; "you are only -too kind to come at all. It is better, too, that you did not come -earlier, for that wretched boy has only just gone out, and I believe -he would kill me if he knew that I betrayed his secret to any one." - -"He need not fear your telling it to me," replied Morley; "for, depend -upon it, I will only use it for his own advantage. Let me know, then, -my dear Miss Barham, how I can serve you. Tell me what I can do to -deliver you from the terrible situation I saw you placed in -yesterday." - -"I will, in a moment," she replied; "but I must first recall my -thoughts. The very fact of your coming, Sir Morley Ernstein, may well -agitate me very much. Since I wrote to you I have scarcely known -whether to regret or to be glad that I did so--whether to be sorry or -rejoice, that I had not, in my despair, abandoned myself and my -unhappy brother to our fate." - -"Nay, nay," said Morley, in a soothing tone--"view it in a different -light, Miss Barham! Say simply that you saw I was interested in you, -that I was inclined to deal differently with you and yours from most -other men; that you trusted in my honour and my good feeling, and that -you were not deceived." - -"I know you are generously inclined," she said--"I am sure you are; -but yet I have been thinking, since I wrote, you must despise me for -the rashness and the boldness of what I have done; or, at least, that -you must fancy it strange I should have no friends, no connexions here -to whom I can apply even for advice. Indeed--indeed, it is not my -fault! For the nine months before my poor father's death, he was a -continual sufferer; we came to London for medical advice, from a -distant part of the country, and knowing nobody here, of course made -no acquaintances. After his death, I got two pupils for singing, and -one to whom I taught drawing. That poor child is dead, and the other -two have left London: My brother, alas! has made acquaintances enough, -but I have made none." - -She spoke in a tone of deep sadness, and her eyes rested fixed upon -the ground, but without tears. Morley was deeply touched, and soothed -her with every assurance of sympathy. He took her hand in his, as he -sat beside her; he besought her to trust in him fully and entirely, -promising, with all his own impetuosity, but in sincerity and truth, -to do all for her that man could do for a sister. - -"If it be possible, dear Miss Barham," he said, "I will save your -brother; but at all events, it is possible to save you from the -infamous person into whose hands he would cast you. That, at least, -you must allow me to do. But now, tell me at once your brother's -situation, and let us consider together what can best be done to -disentangle him, which will apparently be the best means of serving -you." - -"Oh, that I will!" she exclaimed, gently withdrawing her hand from -his, in which he had detained it perhaps an instant longer than he -himself thought right; and she then proceeded to explain to him more -fully what had taken place after he left her the day before. It was a -terribly difficult task for her. She had to allude to, if not to speak -of, so much that was wounding to all her feelings; she had to shew to -a young, handsome, and distinguished man, that, unless means could be -found for delivering her brother from the power of the low-born -swindler whom he had seen there the day before, she must either -abandon herself to that base man, or see her brother perish by an -ignominious death. She had deliberately to poise and dwell upon the -idea of becoming that man's mistress, or of destroying her own -brother, and that to the ears of one of another sex, and a higher -station than herself; and yet she did it well, at least as far as it -was possible so to do. She often turned, and paused, and hesitated, -and the tears came up in her eyes, and her voice frequently refused to -obey her will, and she told the whole in half sentences, leaving -imagination to fill up that which she dared not speak. - -Thus did Morley Ernstein pass the most dangerous hour that he had ever -yet been subjected to in life. The poor girl's secret, however, was -told at length, and he found that her brother had committed a forgery -to the amount of five hundred pounds; that the note which he had -signed with a name not his own, was to pass through the hands of the -man Neville, before it was presented for payment, and that William -Barham himself did not know where it was, who possessed it, or any -means that could be employed to stop it, till it reached the fiend to -whom he had sold himself. - -By the time that Helen Barham had done, Morley Ernstein was nearly as -much agitated as herself, and the sympathies that were established -between those two, as they sat there together--the deep, the strong, -the thrilling sympathies, the feelings speaking from heart to heart, -and answering each other; the admiration, the tenderness, the -compassion, on one side--the admiration, the anguish, the gratitude, -on the other, were as perilous a host as ever forced their way into -the bosom of man and woman. The interest that Morley took in her, the -anxiety that he felt to serve her; the apprehension for herself and -for her brother, which her history excited, were all open to the eyes -of Helen Barham, and were all in return powerful upon her spirit. At -that moment, when, trembling, agitated, tearful, breathless, she -concluded the sad tale with that one terrible truth, and when he, -listening with quivering lips and eyes straining upon her bright face, -heard the dark conclusion of the whole, which seemed to leave no -course for him, no hope for her, but to snatch her at once from her -unworthy brother, one rash impulse, two rash words, "Be mine!" would -have sealed the fates of both for ever. Had he uttered them, she could -but have cast herself upon his breast, or died. - -Oh, it is sad to feel that there is but one thing on earth to which we -can cling, and yet not dare to cling to it! Oh, it is sad to feel -within ourselves the power to cherish and to comfort, and yet not dare -to use it! Those words, "Be mine," presented themselves to Morley's -mind, rose up in his heart, trembled upon his lips; but as the -destinies of men and states have ever depended upon accident, one -instant's pause saved him and Helen Barham; whether permanently, or -only for the time, those who read will learn. "Shall I say it?" he -asked himself; and while his heart beat like an imprisoned eagle -against the bars of its cage, his eyes turned towards the table and -rested there for a moment. There was a book upon it, which she had -evidently been reading before he came in, open, and turned upon its -face. There was a word stamped upon the back, and Morley's glance -passed over it--it was, Prayer! - -In a moment lightning-like thought had passed round the whole range of -the mental horizon. - -"She has been praying," he thought--"praying to that God, who made her -beautiful, and innocent, and bright--praying for help against the -infernal powers of wickedness and evil, that seem to surround her; and -shall I, the only help that he has sent her, shall I sully her -brightness, destroy her innocence, and blister that fair brow with the -name of harlot? God forbid!" - -The ethereal spirit within him was triumphant in a moment, the hour of -the animal spirit was over. - -"Prayer!" he said, aloud--"prayer!" and rising from his seat, he took -her hand tenderly and respectfully, and pressed it to his lips. "Here, -Miss Barham," he said, laying his hand upon the book, "is the true -means of comfort and consolation. He only to whom the words in this -book are addressed, can certainly give you deliverance. I, however, as -an instrument in his hands, will do my very best to help you; and -whatever my fortune or my influence can effect, shall not be wanting, -and what cannot fortune and influence do in this or any other land!" - -He paused, and cast his eyes thoughtfully upon the ground; and she -answered simply, as if she had been speaking her thoughts to an old -and dear friend--"I was praying before you came in; and though my mind -was somewhat confused, I felt comforted and relieved. I felt as if my -heart told me, that God would send somebody to help me--I think he -sent you." - -"May it prove so, dear lady," said Morley; "I trust it will prove so. -You have put your confidence in one, who, though, in some respects, a -strange, wayward young man, will try what he can do to merit it. First -let me tell you, however," he continued, seeing a slight blush come up -in Helen Barham's cheek, at the thought of having put her trust in _a -strange, wayward young man_--"let me tell you what I have done in this -business since I saw you yesterday, for you have not been absent from -my thoughts. In the first place, the person who brought me the -ear-rings saw me again last night, and gave me an intimation that this -man Neville must have some extraordinary hold upon your brother, -probably by a fault or crime which he has seduced him to commit. He -also explained to me partially the conduct and views of your brother -towards yourself. For the purpose of aiding you as far as possible, I -offered him a sum of money if he would ascertain what was the nature -of this man's power over your brother, and he promised me to obtain -the information quickly. Considering the matter further, however, I -thought that it might be necessary to remove you at once from the -influence of one who, however near akin, is most dangerous to you, and -to place you under the care of some one who would protect you against -Neville and your brother, and at the same time, guard you against all -the evils of straitened circumstances." - -Helen Barham cast down her look upon the ground, and the red blood -crept up into her forehead; she then turned her eyes rapidly to the -book of Prayer, and raised them to Morley's countenance with an -inquiring glance. He understood it all as well as if she had spoken a -volume. - -"Nay, my dear Miss Barham," he said; "do not misunderstand me; though -passion may often lead me to do what is wrong, I am not the cool, -deliberate villain to lay out a regular scheme for the ruin of any -one. Your youth, your beauty, your unfriended situation altogether," -he continued, while the blush grew deeper and deeper on her cheek, -"all made me think that it would be better some man of advanced years -and high reputation--some man whose very character would be the -noblest shield for yours, should act in this business rather than -myself; and one of my visits this morning, ere I received your note, -was to the Honourable Mr. Hamilton, the great banker, who was my -guardian in times past, and has ever acted as a second father to me. I -intended to tell him the whole case, and to beg him to do what I could -not, or ought not to do--to remove you from this house altogether, and -to use every nerve to deliver your brother, but to put you quite out -of his power, both in respect of pecuniary affairs and moral -influence. Unfortunately, I found Mr. Hamilton had been seized only -last night with a dangerous disease. Mrs. Hamilton, though an -excellent person, is very different in heart and mind from her -husband; thus the whole scheme is deranged for the present. We must -therefore do the best that we can, as no time is to be lost, however -painful it may be to you to depend solely upon the assistance and -efforts of a young man like myself." - -"Oh, no!" she cried, interrupting him eagerly, and laying her hand -upon his arm, while she looked up in his face with a bright smile of -confidence, that repaid him well for all that he had said and done. -"Oh, no!" she cried; "it is not painful to me. I could trust anything -to you, after your conduct to-day--my life, my honour, anything! Oh, -no! it is not painful to me;" and bending down her face upon her two -hands, she wept for a minute, with one of those bursts of emotion in -which joy and sorrow are strangely, but perhaps we may say sweetly, -blended together. Morley soothed her, but she wiped away the tears in -a few moments, and said--"Do not mind, it is only agitation, not -grief. What were you going to say?" - -"Merely this," replied Morley; "we have but one course to pursue, my -dear Miss Barham, for the present. It is this--to discover, if -possible, who is the person whose name your brother has thus forged. -You must try to wring it from him, and, that being once obtained, I -will endeavour, to the utmost of my power, and by all the means at my -command, to make the person, whoever it is, abandon the thought of -proceeding against him." - -"But whoever it is will never consent to save a criminal by paying so -large a sum," said Helen Barham. - -"I will do that," replied Morley; and before he could prevent her, she -caught his hand, and pressed her lips on it. - -"God bless you!" she cried, "and return it to you a thousandfold, in -treasures uncountable!--But, alas! I fear," she continued, after a -thoughtful pause, "I shall never induce William to give me the name." - -"Try, at all events," replied Morley. "I will endeavour, through the -man who seems his confidant. If we fail by all other means, we must -come openly to himself, show him his danger, prove to him that, as -your resolution is taken, nothing can save him but confession, and -offer to do everything for him if he will but be candid. But, indeed, -my dear Miss Barham, before that time, you ought to be removed from -him entirely, and put in safety and at ease. You say you have no -friends in London; have you any in the country, with whom you could -be?" - -"But few," she replied, with a sigh. "Who loves to be burdened with -the unfortunate? My father's parish was extensive, but poor; -containing no gentry of any kind. There were several large and -respectable farmers in it, and their wives were, in many cases, -excellent women; some of them loved me well enough, I believe; but -I could hardly ask any of them to receive me. My father, too, was -retired in his habits, and made few acquaintances. There was the wife -of a neighbouring clergyman, indeed, who was almost the only person -near of the same station as ourselves; he is dead, but she lives in -the village still, and, perhaps, might be willing to have me with her; -but I could do nothing there to earn my own livelihood, and I would -not be a burden to her, or to any one. Besides, I wrote to her a week -or two ago, and have not heard from her since." - -"Your stay need only be for a few weeks," replied Morley. "Ere long, I -trust, Mr. Hamilton will be quite well; I will place your affairs in -his hands, Miss Barham, and then the matter will soon be settled. It -is only for the present that I do not know what to do for you. I think -it absolutely necessary that, for a time, even on his own account, -your brother should be cut off from all communication with you, if he -will not give that information which is necessary to deliver him from -the hands of this man, Neville; and yet I myself can suggest no means, -no place of refuge, without danger or discredit to you; and, believe -me," he added, "I would not, for any consideration, bring upon you -either." - -"Indeed, I do believe you!" she said, looking brightly up in his face; -"but, oh, sir! you seem to fix your whole hopes and expectation upon -Mr. Hamilton's recovery. Are you very sure that, if he were well -to-morrow, he would feel in this matter as you do--that he would judge -as you do? The old see things very differently from the young; the -heart gets cased by experience, if not hardened--and judgment is a -sterner person to deal with than feeling. I recollect one of my young -pupils wanted to persuade her mother to take me with them into the -country, because I looked sad at their going--as well I might. The -mother explained to her kindly, that it would never do; and I could -not but own that she was right; and yet I loved the daughter better -than the mother." - -She blushed immediately she had uttered those words, seeing that they -might have an application which she did not intend; but Morley was too -much a gentleman in heart, to give to any words a meaning different -from their real one; for there are some things which we understand -with our heart rather than with our head; and the meaning of those we -speak with is read by the spirit within ourselves, whatever may be the -mere sounds that address themselves to the ear. "What I mean," -continued Miss Barham, "is only, you must not be disappointed if you -find that Mr. Hamilton does not quite approve of all you have done, -and does not encourage, or assist you in doing all that you would, be -willing to do. Nor can any one say that he is wrong, for indeed, Sir -Morley Ernstein, I cannot but feel that you have already done more -than the calm judgment of any man of the world would approve." - -Morley smiled. "You do not know Mr. Hamilton," he said; "he is as -young in heart as I am, though old in experience, and mature in -judgment. He is one of those few, Miss Barham, in whose enthusiasms I -can trust." - -"I doubt not," replied Miss Barham, "that he will take a kind interest -in me, on your account; that he will give me countenance and -protection, and ensure me the means of obtaining my own living -respectably. That is all I can desire, or expect. Most grateful to him -shall I be; but he can never do for me what you have done--raise me up -from the depth of sorrow and despair; comfort, support, protect -me--and all with honour and consideration, without one selfish or -ungenerous feeling,--without one evil thought mingling with your -benevolence to make me blush at the pity I excited, or the assistance -I received." - -It was Morley who blushed now, for he felt that though he had been -generous, he had not been altogether so generous as she supposed. He -felt that the passions which man encourages, and thinks no evil, -though subdued and kept down, might have had their share; and that -those feelings had been there which we will not believe have power to -sully till we place our own heart in contrast with something brighter -than itself. He coloured, as we have said, and was somewhat confused; -and, after promising to see her again on the following morning, and -beseeching her to use every means to wring the required information -from her brother, he left her, and returned thoughtfully to his -temporary home. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - - -The table was covered with notes, but they were all insignificant, and -Morley glanced over them with an eye which shewed how abstracted the -mind was, and how busy with other topics. He had thrown the last down, -and, with his hand still resting on the table, was gazing forth into -vacancy, when the door of the room opened, and Lieberg entered, with -his usual gentlemanly, but impressive manner. - -"Well, Morley," he said, "I have arranged it all for you, as was -proposed; these two men, Stallfed and Neville, had evidently heard all -about you, so far as your being wealthy, young, and unacquainted with -London; and they proposed to make a very pleasant speculation of -Neville's quarrel with you, and share some five hundred pounds between -them, or perhaps more; but the fact of your referring them to me, -instead of some of your college companions, as they expected, has -sadly disappointed them." - -"Why, how could they calculate so wildly?" exclaimed Morley. "They -could never imagine that I was to be frightened into paying them money -for the privilege of not fighting?" - -"Oh, no, no!" answered Lieberg; "that was not the way, at all. The -way it was to be arranged was this. Stallfed was to treat you in the -most gentlemanly manner, and no one can assume the tone of a high-bred -gentleman better than he can, when he likes it. The slightest apology -on your part was to be accepted; the Captain was to be smitten with -high admiration of your gentlemanly bearing, and bold demeanour. You -were to be invited to dinner, accommodated with champagne, and claret, -perhaps a little laudanum, or some other exhilarating fluid; cards and -dice were to be at your service--and the result was to be, the -enriching of themselves, and the pillaging of you." - -"Why, how did you discover all this?" said Morley. "You certainly have -some extraordinary way of getting at people's secrets!" - -"Not at all," replied Lieberg--"not at all; it is pure intuition, -Ernstein. I know the whole thing, as well as if it had been done and I -had seen it. This man, Neville, I have long known, to the very -innermost corners of his dark mind. He won two hundred pounds of me at -Ascot, last year, with such barefaced cheatery, that he himself did -not expect me to pay the money--" - -"But did you pay it?" exclaimed Ernstein, in some surprise. - -"To be sure!" answered Lieberg. "Was it not well worth two hundred -pounds to keep one's name out of the newspaper, in connexion with that -of a blackleg? The very reputation of having overreached Colonel -Lieberg, was as much to him as winning another great battle would be -to the Duke of Wellington. The consequence was, that I pretended to be -looking another way and very busy about other business, paid the money -as fast as ever I could, for fear the whole affair should be exposed -by other people who had bets, and got off the course before the thing -was inquired into, leaving Hartley, of the Third, to horsewhip -Neville, and have his name in the 'Times,' coupled with an action of -battery. However, Ernstein, my simple reply to the worthy Captain, -was, that you were quite prepared to give Mr. Neville satisfaction; -that your place was Chalk Farm, your hour half-past five, and that we -set our watches by the Horse-Guards. If Neville comes to the ground, I -am very much mistaken; though Stallfed has one virtue--namely, -courage, and will bring him if possible. I will call for you at a -quarter after five to-morrow, and roll you up to the place. What do -you intend to do, if the fellow does come? I know you have odd notions -about these sort of things." - -"Shoot him!" replied Morley, vehemently. "Shoot him, as I would a mad -dog, and upon the same principle. I am not a man to miss what I fire -at, Lieberg, let it be living or dead; and if he calculates that I am -too humane to kill a viper like him, who is spreading poison and -destroying wherever he goes, he is very much mistaken." - -"I think you are quite right, Ernstein," replied Lieberg. "For my own -part, I do not see any use of going out to fight a man, unless one -fires at him; it is very silly work to stand up to be shot at, and -then to waste a certain portion of good powder by firing in the air." - -"But there are some circumstances," said Morley, "when a man could not -fire at another--after having done him a great injury, for instance." - -"I know none," replied Lieberg, drily. "The man who calls out another -with any reason to believe that his adversary will not fire at him, -must be somewhat of a coward, and deserves to be shot for his pains. -Oh, no; child's play does not become reasonable men! Of course, I -never interfere with what a friend chooses to do in such cases. But I -think you are quite right; and in shooting Neville, you will be doing -a benefit to society; in reward for which, there ought to be a general -subscription, to present you with a very handsome pair of long -barrels. Mind you don't miss him--don't take him too fine!--I am going -to see that great picture of Rubens," he continued, in his usual easy -tone--"will you come? He is a magnificent painter--Rubens; and yet I -hate his pictures--it always seems to me as if he had skinned all his -men, and pinched all his women. Many of them are certainly very -natural, but it is a fat and undignified nature, too. Was there ever -anything like that St. Peter at Cologne? How the saint is roaring in -his unpleasant position! One seems to hear the very cries of agony -coming from his mouth; and yet it does not give us a very elevated -idea of the saint--to see him with his head downwards, bellowing, like -a cross man with the gout. Will you come?" - -Morley, however, declined; he had much to think of; and after Lieberg -had left him, he sat for a long time, revolving in his own mind the -situation of Helen Barham, but endeavouring in vain to arrange some -plan to place her in a less dangerous situation, till Mr. Hamilton was -well enough to give him counsel and assistance. He thought of her -much--he thought of her long--of her beauty, of her grace, of a -certain wild, sparkling manner, very different from the demeanour of -the young lady of the fashionable society, but very winning withal, -and very charming. Pity mingled with the train of reflection, and -softened admiration into tenderness; at the same time, there was a -sort of consciousness that she was entirely in his power--that she was -the creature of his will, not by any tie of mere circumstance, but by -the tie of gratitude and admiration. The better spirit, however, as we -have said, had gained the triumph; and though passion might urge, and -vanity prompt, it was all in vain--Morley did not yield for a moment, -but went on in high speculations on the destinies of human beings--of -the strange, and, apparently, wayward turns of fate--and of that far, -but sublime period when the ways of God will be justified, even to the -eyes of his creatures, when those who have suffered, and yet believe, -will rejoice, and those who have doubted and rebelled, will be covered -with confusion, on finding that all is bright, and good, and excellent -in the scheme of Divine wisdom. - -The spirit of the soul, as I have called it, exerted her sway during -that hour with calm, but mighty power. He dwelt upon many a curious -question with himself, both general and referring to the chief matter -of the day, and although the idea of marrying Helen Barham, and thus -freeing her from all her difficulties, never entered into his mind as -a thing that could take place, because he could not dream of allying -himself to one so base as her brother was proved to be, yet he asked -himself, had circumstances been different, would he have offered her -his hand? The answer was--"No--she was not the being he would have -chosen." And why was she not so? became the next question. Could any -one be more lovely?--could any style of beauty whatsoever be more fit -to excite ardent passion? Had he a doubt of her virtue? of her -simplicity, or truth? No, no, no! He could not tell why. He did not, -or he would not, investigate why he felt that, although, had he given -way to the temptation of circumstances, and the strong inclination of -his own heart, he might have made Helen Barham his mistress--he would -not choose her for his wife. Let not the reader suppose that it was -any evil in her character, anything that betrayed itself therein, and -which he felt, though he could not define it. No; she was all that she -seemed--pure, bright, generous-hearted, tender, devoted, not without -some faults, but those such as would little affect domestic peace. No! -it was nothing in her character, but it was something in his heart. -Reader! it was a memory! - -Great part of the men and women that are cast by the will of God into -the world, go about seeking a mere match of some kind. For most of -them, if not exactly anything, very nearly anything will do. It -matters not what is the first thing that links their affections to -another, whether beauty, or similar thoughts, or similar tastes, or -circumstances, or proprieties, or follies, or accidents; one or two -slight causes combining is sufficient to produce the effect; the words -are spoken, the altar gives its sanction, the ring encircles the -finger, the white ribbons and the orange blossom, the smiles and -gaiety, are worn and pass away, and the union settles down into -tranquil happiness, continual irritation, fierce strife, or speedy -rupture, as the temper, the passions, and the principles of the -parties impel or bind them. But there are others, however, of a finer -clay, and a higher mould, who form, at a very early period, a bright -ideal image of the being that must be their soul's companion, in which -every trait and feature is made harmonious, (to use boldly a mixed -figure,) to the pre-existing tones of their own heart; where each -taste, each feeling, each thought, finds a responsive note in the -spirit of another, and where the corporeal form represents but as a -symbol, that grand quintessence of all that we desire in the heart of -the being that we love. Seldom, very seldom does it happen in life, -that those who have thus, if I may so call it, preconceived their -love, ever find the being they have dreamt of. Seldom, if they do find -her, is it their fate to win her; but if they do, they may well die -the day after, for they have known enough of human joy to fill up a -whole existence. Seldom do they find her; they may find the face and -the form, but the one harmonious whole is rare--oh, how rare! The -mines of Golconda do not furnish fewer diamonds, the river of Ceylon -roll down fewer rubies, than the whole world produces, ay, in a -thousand years, of beings fully worthy to be loved. - -Morley Ernstein was one of those who had formed for himself the -picture of her who was to be his; and, as we have shewn the reader, he -had once seen the face of his visions. Whether the mind was there he -knew not, but that face was ever present to his memory, and it was not -that of Helen Barham. Bright, and beautiful, and sunny as she was, he -might feel passion towards her, pity, tenderness, esteem--but no, not -love! There was a something wanting still; I cannot well tell what, -and will not seek to do so, for love is like one of those fine -elixirs, which some skilful and life-restoring hands have formed, and -which we may analyze as we will, separating the parts with every -scientific aid, but still something escapes, which we cannot discover, -something which gives virtue and efficacy to the whole. - -The thoughts of Morley Ernstein strayed naturally and by imperceptible -steps from Helen Barham back to that fair young being whom he had seen -once, and only once in life. The idea brought back the thoughts and -feelings of the day when he had met her, so short a time before, and -yet seeming far, far away in the past; so many had been the fresh -incidents which had crowded into that brief period of his career. -There was a sweet and soothing pleasure in the very remembrance. There -always is, in the memory of first love; it is like the memory of our -early home. A first love is surely the early home of the heart. It -came upon him so pleasantly, with such tranquillizing influence, with -such balmy power, that he resolved, as soon as he could disentangle -himself from the affairs which now pressed upon him, he would return -to his own old hall; to his own park, and its shady trees; to the -sweet singing of the summer birds, the smoke of the peasant's cottage, -the village church, the cheerful upland, and all that made the bright -picture to memory of the native place he had left behind. - -Suddenly, however, the questions broke upon him--how should he return -to it? and should he ever be able to enjoy, as he had enjoyed it--to -taste the same pleasures with the same zest? Had he not passed by the -moment of such delights? Had he not known, and felt, and lived, beyond -the hour of such calm happiness? Then imagination went on to the work -laid out for the following day; to the act that he was about to -commit; to the bringing of blood upon his hand; to the slaying of a -fellow-creature; to the imprinting on the irrevocable roll of deeds -done, the dark word--"Death!" - -He started away from his own thoughts; his mind was made up and fixed; -his determination had been announced, and he resolved that he would -think upon the matter no more. He would amuse his thoughts; he would -mingle with the crowded world; he would go to the party to which he -was invited that night, and do the deed he had purposed to do, as a -mere matter of course; and yet there was one thing which he had to -consider, and which, till late on that day, he did not consider at -all--namely, that he might himself fall in the encounter. He did not -think it likely, but such an event might take place. Neville was a -coward, evidently well known to be so; but the most notorious cowards, -aided by accident, and the cat-in-a-corner courage of despair, have -been known to shoot men of duelling reputation. He might fall, then, -and at all events it was necessary to make some preparation for such a -result. He sat down accordingly, pen in hand, to draw up a little -memorandum of his last wishes; and although, as I have already said, -his property was originally very large, and had been increased greatly -by the care of Mr. Hamilton, his will was soon made, and compressed in -a few lines. - -He left his two former guardians his executors; explained very briefly -his knowledge of Helen Barham, her circumstances, and the bad conduct -of her brother. He besought Mr. Hamilton to act entirely as her -guardian, knowing that, with him, that would be only another name for -acting as her father, and he left her so large a portion of the sum -accumulated during his minority, as to place her in a state of -affluence for life, with one or two thoughtful provisions, to ensure -that it should never fall within the grasp of a sharper. His landed -property he suffered to take its legal course, which led it, in case -of his death, to a very distant branch of his family, none of whom he -had seen above two or three times in the course of his life, and whose -representatives had satisfied themselves, during his minority, by -inquiring tenderly, once or twice in the year, after his health, which -had always proved so vigorous as to exclude them from all reasonable -hope of entering into possession themselves. - -There was still a larger sum to be disposed of, and Morley thought -for a moment what he should do with it; for it sometimes so happens, -that when thousands are starving, and worse than starving, around, a -rich man, caught by the sudden arrest of death, looks about him -embarrassed for some object on which to bestow his wealth. There were -several things that Morley had proposed to do; institutions he had -dreamt of founding; good deeds of various kinds which he had thought -to perform; but, alas! of all the many things that are killed by -delay, none are so easily slaughtered as those same good deeds. Morley -found now that there was no time to make such arrangements as he had -proposed, with that precision and circumlocution which the law of -England requires, as if for the express purpose of embarrassing a -man's mind at a period when his mind is rarely very clear, and wasting -his time, when time is too seldom very abundant. He therefore -contented himself with leaving the great bulk of his funded property -to Mr. Hamilton, for the purpose of being distributed amongst such -persons as that gentleman should find most necessitous and deserving, -in the course of the next three years. From this, indeed, he reserved -a few small sums for annuities to his servants, and for remembrances -to one or two of his college friends. To Lieberg he left some fine -pictures; and an impulse that he could not resist, made him bequeath -some diamonds which had been his mother's, as a token of gratitude to -Juliet Carr. - -"Mr. Hamilton will smile," he thought, "if he have occasion to open -this will, and may well smile, if he should ever know that Helen -Barham I have seen twice, Juliet Carr perhaps once--perhaps not at -all;" and leaning his head on his hand, he began again to think of the -scene which had taken place in the road under his own park wall, and -of the beautiful being he had there beheld, upon whom his imagination -had fixed a name which might very well belong to some one else. - -There are strange things told of presentiment; there are a thousand -recorded instances of men firmly and clearly anticipating the death -that awaited them, often when there was no reasonable cause for -expecting it. But we may go further still. Who is there that, without -any distinct motive that he can perceive, has not often found his -thoughts resting strongly upon some particular theme, very loosely -related, if at all, to the circumstances around him, and returning, -whether he would or not, to that one topic, his mind seemingly -impelled to its consideration by an irresistible power out of himself, -and then, ere many hours were over, has found the things connected -with that theme rise up around him as if by magic? Who is there that -has not had occasion to say to himself in life--"My thoughts were -prophetic?" Who is there that has not more than once in life almost -fancied himself endowed with the second sight? - -Morley Ernstein dined, dressed himself, and went out to a party, which -had been announced to him, by the lady who gave the invitation, as a -small and an early one. Perhaps of all others this was the kind of -society that he would not have chosen on that occasion. He would -rather have been in the midst of a gay world of sights and sounds, -each appealing strongly to imagination for a moment, and changing -again ere the mind could get weary: But the lady who had asked him had -some claims upon him; she was an old friend of his mother's; had been -kind and affectionate to him in his youth; was of a very amiable -character, though somewhat eccentric in her enthusiasms and her -self-devotion; and thus, as he knew she counted much upon his presence -that night, he would rather have disappointed any person in London -than Lady Malcolm. Be accordingly proceeded to her house not very long -after the hour she had named; but there was already a number of people -in the rooms, almost all of them belonging to the best society in -London, but deviating from their usual late habits to please a person -universally respected and liked. - -Lady Malcolm herself, always lady-like, notwithstanding some touches -of eccentricity, was in the small outer room, receiving and talking to -a group of gentlemen who had entered not long before Morley himself. -She greeted her young friend gladly, and then added, with a marked -smile--"If you go on, Sir Morley, you will find an acquaintance in -those other rooms." - -As she said this, she turned to speak again with the other party, and -Morley advanced into a larger chamber beyond, where a number of -gentlemen and ladies were collected, talking of everything and nothing -upon the face of the earth. As the room, however, was not very large, -neither of the three being at all upon a grand scale, Morley's -entrance caused some little sensation, for, as we have before said, -his appearance was distinguished, his countenance handsome, the -expression not ordinary, and his whole carriage that of a very -high-bred gentleman. The first persons who saw him, asked others who -stood near, who he was, and it soon spread through the whole, that he -was the rich young Baronet who had lately come of age. Those who were -acquainted with him, approached eagerly to speak with him, and several -others asked to be introduced. - -In the demeanour of a man pre-occupied with any grave and powerful -feelings, there is generally a tone of cold firmness, which is -impressive to the indifferent and the light-hearted, and Morley, at -that moment, was too full of the thoughts of to-morrow to be at all -carried away by the light conversation of a party like that. Some -called him haughty; some thought him vain; some pronounced him cold; -some said he was purse-proud. One or two men of high rank judged more -favourably of him, and declared that his bearing was just what it -should be; but after suffering himself to be detained for a few -minutes, the young gentleman moved on, and entered the third chamber, -which concluded the little suite of Lady Malcolm's receiving rooms. He -was making his way towards a table covered with drawings, when a sight -presented itself, which caused him to stop short, and pause, as if -suddenly rooted to the ground. The sight, however, was certainly a -pleasant, one, for it was that of as beautiful a face as was ever -seen, but if it had been that of Venus herself, fresh risen from the -sparkling Mediterranean wave, it could not, independent of -association, have had the effect upon Morley Ernstein which was -produced by that fair countenance. - -There--there before him, in the rooms of Lady Malcolm, was the same -soft, yet dazzling face; the same deep blue eyes, with their dark -lashes; the same clear forehead and fair brow; the same short, -chiselled lip, with the rosy mouth half open, in the act of speaking; -the same beautiful form, every line of which was contour and symmetry, -the same bright being, in short, which he had seen once, and as he -believed only once, in life before, when they had stood together for a -moment, by her horse's side, in the mellow light of a spring morning. -She was conversing with a lady who sat on the sofa beside her, but her -eyes were full upon Morley Ernstein; and, on his part, after the first -sudden pause of surprise was over, with a look of bright satisfaction -that could not be mistaken, he crossed the room at once, and took her -hand in his, as if he had known her twenty years, forgetting -altogether, that at that moment he was not even sure of her name. - -She smiled upon him kindly, evidently recollecting him well, and not -displeased with the recollection. There was a faint blush, too, came -up in her face, not like the blush of agitation, indeed, but that sort -of sudden transient glow, which comes over a cheek unhackneyed to any -strong sensations, upon even a slight emotion. There are few people in -the world more to be pitied than women who have lost the power of -blushing. With them the bloom has gone off the fruit indeed. She -blushed slightly, as I have said, and Morley inquired after her -health, and spoke of the time when they had last met, and his eyes -sparkled, and his lip became full of expression, and there was -eagerness in his whole tone, so that those who had seen him in the -other room would hardly have known him now. So much can two steps do -to change the whole feelings of the human heart. - -Scarcely, however, had he uttered many sentences when the feeling that -he had never been introduced to the fair being to whom he was speaking -in so intimate a tone--that he had, in fact, according to the usages -of society, no right even to know her, first embarrassed, and then -made him smile at his embarrassment, and seeing a vacant seat beside -her on the sofa, he took possession of it at once, resolved to wait -till Lady Malcolm came into the room, in order that no idle form for -the future might stand in the way between them. They spoke of ordinary -subjects for a few minutes--that is to say, subjects which any one -might talk of to another, though in London society in general people -do not do so--of the beauty of the country where they had last met; of -the pleasures of the country in general; of the superiority of that -which, according to the old adage, God himself made, over that which -man made. The lady who sat beside them, either thought their comments -very tiresome, or perceived that one of the party might feel it as -pleasant if he were left alone with his neighbour, and, contrary to -the usual course of human benevolence, she rose, and went away to -speak to a dear friend in the doorway. - -If she supposed that the conversation of Morley Ernstein and his fair -companion would be more free after she was gone, she was very much -mistaken. For the first few minutes, they had both very nearly fallen -into absolute silence, though their thoughts were busy. As often -happens on such occasions, it was the lady who first spoke. - -"I am happy," she said, "to see that you are so completely recovered." - -"Then you are Juliet Carr," said Morley, abruptly; "I was sure it was -so, from the description of my good old servant Adam Gray." - -"Indeed!" said the young lady, with the warm blood now rushing quick -into her glowing cheek--"indeed! The truth is," she added, a moment -after, "that in passing by the place where you were lying ill, I heard -of the accident that had occurred, and in going near your house, in -one of my walks round Yelverley, I thought it best to inform your -servants that such was the case, suspecting that they might not know -it, as, indeed, they did not." - -"And most grateful am I, dear Miss Carr," replied Morley, "for your -taking the trouble of letting them know. However much interest you -might create in me on our first meeting, I could hardly hope that I -had excited any such kind feelings in you, when my rash folly, in -leaping my horse over the park palings, might have killed you, and -certainly did alarm you very much." - -"Your kindness after it was done," replied Juliet Carr, in a calm -tone, "made ample compensation; but," she added, in a lower voice, and -with her eyes cast down upon the ground, "that was not the first time -that we ever met." - -"Indeed!" exclaimed Morley, in his turn surprised, and under the first -impulse speaking out the plain truth, without any of the softenings of -conventional life--"I did not think it possible, that if I had once -seen you on the whole earth before, even for a single moment, I could -ever have forgotten you." - -His fair companion answered not for a moment, and he added -"Where--where was it, Miss Carr? I do not recollect any one even of -your name in our neighbourhood. Where was it?" - -"In this very house--in this very room," replied Juliet Carr. "We have -played together many a time upon the carpet, and you used to tease me -sadly," she added, with a playful look, "when you were eight years -old, and I was seven." - -"God give me the opportunity of teasing you again!" exclaimed Morley, -with a bright laugh--her words illuminating, in a moment, the whole -dark void of the past, like a flash of lightning in a murky night; -"and is it possible that you were my little July, my little -summer-month, as I used to call you? It is the only name by which I -ever knew you; for, indeed, dear Juliet, I was not aware that your -name was Carr. Do you recollect"--he added--but ere he could conclude -his sentence, the memory of the light, boyish feelings of the past, -became mingled so strangely with the intense manly feelings of the -present, as to make him almost regret he had begun the question, and -caused his voice to tremble as he went on, feeling that he must -conclude--"Do you recollect how you promised to be my wife?" - -Juliet Carr turned deadly pale, and Morley could scarcely hear her -voice, as she replied, "Oh yes, oh yes! I remember something of it." - -His heart sunk, for he was inexperienced in matters of love, and -thought that, in that paleness, and that low tone, he perceived a -thousand things which they did not imply in the least. Such feelings -as his, however, are seldom without hope, and he soon rallied again; -but he resolved, ere he said more upon subjects of so deep an -interest, to watch and see, to mark every word and every tone, to -gather by some means, in short, the certainty that there was no such -bar as another attachment between her heart and his. So far he -resolved wisely; but he went on to determine that he would guard his -own affections carefully, that he would take care not to fall in love -with Juliet Carr till he was certain there was no obstacle to her -loving him again. In this he resolved very foolishly, as every man -does who takes resolutions in regard to things that are past. Morley -Ernstein had no longer any power not to love Juliet Carr. He might -guard the posterns of the citadel as he would,--the garrison had -already surrendered, and the enemy had entered by the great gates. - -Morley might have been somewhat puzzled to renew the conversation, -after the momentary pause for thought which succeeded the last word -spoken. It is a great art in that sort of communion which he was -holding with Juliet Carr, never to let any subject drop entirely -without leaving some sort of link in the chain open to hook it on to -another. Morley was relieved from his difficulty, however, though not -in the manner which he might have liked the best. The lady who had -been talking with his fair companion when he first saw her that -evening, returned, and spoke with her again for a few minutes. What -she said Morley did not hear, for he went on thinking upon the subject -which, for the time, was predominant in his own mind. After a moment -or two, however, he saw Miss Carr's eyes directed towards the man with -whom the other lady had been speaking in the doorway, and at the same -time a sort of shudder seemed to come over her, while she said, "Can -you really admire such conduct?" - -The lady made some reply, which Morley did not hear, laughed, with a -gay toss of her head, and went away again. - -Morley Ernstein was now better prepared to carry on the conversation, -for his mind had turned to the past, and to the childish days which he -had spent in that house with Juliet Carr. "Am I mistaken in thinking, -Miss Carr," he asked, "that you are a niece of Lady Malcolm's? It -seems to me, that I recollect having heard such was the case, long -ago." - -"Oh no," replied Juliet Carr; "our relationship is not so near. My -mother was Lady Malcolm's cousin; but you know how generous and -high-spirited she is; and since my mother's death she has always acted -towards me more as a mother than anything else--at least, when she has -been permitted to do so." - -"I really do not see, Miss Carr," replied Morley Ernstein, "the exact -connexion between Lady Malcolm's generosity and high spirit, and her -affection for you; I should think it very possible to love you dearly, -without any great liberality of feeling." - -He spoke with a smile, and evidently in a tone of assumed playfulness; -but Juliet Carr replied, eagerly--"Oh, indeed! in this case you are -mistaken; it needed great kindness and generosity for Lady Malcolm to -feel any affection for me at all, as my birth kept her from a -considerable property, which, at that time, I have heard, she was much -in need of." - -"Then, I trust, you are with her now for a long time," said Morley -Ernstein. - -"I have only leave of absence for three weeks," she answered; and the -moment after added, in a low tone, "Thank Heaven, he is gone!" - -Morley had remarked that, during the last five minutes, her eyes had -turned frequently towards the gentleman who stood in the doorway, and -who had now just moved away with a slight degree of lameness in his -walk. There was quite sufficient love in Morley's breast to make him -feel an eager--I might almost call it an apprehensive, interest in all -Juliet Carr's thoughts, and, with his usual impetuosity, he said at -once, "May I know who the gentleman is, Miss Carr, whose departure -seems to afford you so much relief?" - -"I really do not know," replied Juliet, with a smile, which might, -perhaps, be at Morley's impetuous questioning, or perhaps, at her own -ignorance of the man's name, for whose absence she had thanked -Heaven--"I really do not know," she answered, and then stopped, gazing -in his face, with that smile, as if to puzzle him still further. -Morley looked down upon the ground, but would ask no further -questions; and seeing a sort of determination in his countenance not -to do so, Juliet Carr added, in a lower tone, and with a graver look, -"I can tell you what he his, though I cannot tell you who." - -"What, what?" asked Morley, eagerly. - -"He is a duellist!" replied Juliet Carr. "Lady Emily Greenfield came -up, just now, to tell me a good deal about him; she says that he -killed another man in a duel, a fortnight ago." - -There was a look of abhorrence and pain in her beautiful face as she -spoke, which brought some strange sensations into Morley's heart, when -he thought of the part he was about to play the next morning; and he -replied, "Perhaps he could not help it." - -"Could not help it!" exclaimed Juliet Carr, with a look of surprise, -and forgetting, in her eagerness, the lapse of thirteen or fourteen -years she added--"Could not help it! Oh, Morley!" - -Morley felt as if he could have cast himself at her feet, in gratitude -for that one word; but he governed his impetuous nature, and followed -out the subject on which they were speaking. "Perhaps," he said, in -explanation, "he was grossly insulted by this man whom he shot. -Perhaps his adversary called him out, and made him fight." - -"But, do you mean to say," asked Juliet Carr, "that there are any -circumstances in which a man cannot help deliberately killing another? -I myself think, that no man ought to fight a duel at all; but even if -he be weak enough to risk his own life for a vain prejudice, he has no -right to take that of another. God will ask the blood of his brother -at his hand," she added, lifting her beautiful eyes as if towards the -heavens; "and though he may smother the voice of conscience, in this -world, he must not hope that he will escape punishment in another. Oh! -think what a horrible thing it is to take away that existence which we -can never restore; to cut off, in a moment, a fellow-being, from all -the warm and sweet relationships of life; to change the living being, -instinct with a bright spirit, into a dull mass of inanimate clay, -and, worse than all, to put the seal of fate upon the sins, and -follies, and crimes, of a fellow-being; to cut him off for ever from -repentance, and bring the day of judgment upon his head, without time -for thought, or preparation, or hope, or atonement! Oh, no, no! if -such a thing had happened to me, I would hide myself from all eyes in -the darkest corners of the earth. I would spend my whole life in -bitterness and tears. I should never know a moment's peace--I should -think I heard the voice of him whom I had murdered, crying for ever in -my ears, 'You have not only destroyed the body, but condemned the -soul!'" - -Morley had been gazing thoughtfully on the ground, but he now replied, -"There may be some cases, Miss Carr, where we should be doing a -benefit to society, in firing at a man opposed to us in a duel. -Suppose that he were one of those criminals who are daily committing -crimes that the laws will not reach?" - -"Leave him to God!" replied Juliet, eagerly. "Leave him to God! His -law will sooner or later reach all, and it is a law of mercy as well -as justice." - -They both paused; Juliet with a warm glow upon her cheek, from a -feeling that she had been speaking with some vehemence, and Morley -doing what so few people ever do in conversation, really weighing the -arguments that were addressed to him, and applying them to his own -heart. - -"But suppose," he said--"suppose a man so placed that his own life is -at stake. There are circumstances in which there is every probability -that a man must either take life or lose it. For instance, when your -adversary is known as an infallible shot, where you have but one -chance for your own existence, and where, judging yourself in the -right, you have every reason to defend your own life, even at the -sacrifice of that of an enemy whom you know to be in the wrong?" - -"It is a hard case," replied Juliet Carr, with her eyes cast down upon -the ground; "but I am really not fit to be a judge upon such matters, -and perhaps have said more than I ought upon the subject already." - -"Nay," said Morley; "I really wish to hear your opinion. Believe me, -it is valuable to me, for I think a woman often judges these sort of -things more sanely than a man." - -"Well, you shall have it!" replied Juliet Carr, "though it is little -worth having. You must recollect that I think no man has any right to -fight at all, if he be a Christian. He ought, therefore, never to be -there, and if he will go there, I cannot see why, to save his own -life, he should add a great crime to a great fault, and make murder -terminate strife. Perhaps this is speaking too harshly; but what I -mean to say is, that I should love, and respect, and admire the man -most who, if he have not resolution enough to refuse to fight, would -shew that his courage went to the high pitch of risking all, rather -than do that which he knew to be the highest pitch of evil. Were I a -man I would rather lose life than keep it under a continual sense of -remorse--nay, even as a weak woman, I say the same; and I am sure in -the choice my courage would not fail." - -Morley gazed at her for a moment with tenderness and admiration; but -he then replied, as he saw Lady Malcolm approaching them, "Well, then, -I promise you, that if ever I should be called upon to fight, I will -recollect your lesson of to-night, and not fire at my adversary." - -Juliet looked as if she would fain reply, but Lady Malcolm came up, -with a smile, saying, "So you have found each other out! She is -scarcely at all changed--is she, Morley?" - -"So little, at least in manner," replied Morley, "that every instant I -feel myself inclined to forget the years that have past, and to call -her Juliet." - -If ever lover made an artful speech in this world, it was that which -had just proceeded from the lips of Morley Ernstein; for it brought -about quietly, as he well knew it would, that which he did not dare to -ask openly. - -"Why should you call her anything else?" asked Lady Malcolm. "You were -like brother and sister in your childhood. Call her Juliet, to be -sure. I am certain she has no objection. Have you, my dear girl?" - -Morley felt very strongly that they were not brother and sister now, -and perhaps Juliet Carr did the same, for she blushed while she -replied, "None, assuredly." - -"And will you call me Morley again?" demanded her lover--for so we may -now well name him. - -"Yes," answered Juliet Carr, looking up with that candour of heart -which is far, far more attractive than the finest art that ever -coquette devised; "I shall find no difficulty in it, for old habits -come back with such force that I can scarcely call you anything else." - -Morley felt that in the new game he was playing, he had won a point; -and, casting from him all thoughts of the following morning, he -lingered on at Lady Malcolm's house till he was the last guest -present. He then took leave, and quitted the house where he had spent -a night of joy, such as he had never known till then; but as he turned -from the door, and the memory of the dark business before him rushed -upon his mind, it seemed as if a cold wind blew upon him. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - - -In the evening and the morning, small objects cast long shadows; but -in the mid-day, the meridian sun makes all bright. Not so exactly, -however, is it with the day of life, as any man must have felt who has -been called upon to repeat, at two distant times in his existence, the -same unpleasant act. Take fighting a duel for an instance: with what -different feelings the same man sets about the deed, at two or -three-and-twenty, and five or six-and-thirty. How the gay buoyancy of -youth carries us over the light ruffle of the sea at one period! how -little do we heed the menacing storm! how little do we care for the -momentary tempest! how confident are we of safety and success! But, at -the other period, however strong may be our resolution, however firm our -purpose, however, unshaken our nerve, we go to the task set before us -with a knowledge of every particle of the peril, with a clear notion -of all the consequences, with a calculation of each point of the -result. The grasp of a friend's hand comes with a consciousness that -it may be for the last time; the look we give to those we love has in -it the tenderness of a farewell, and at the same time, all the mighty -responsibility of taking the life of another is pressed upon -reflection by every sight of human existence around us, by all the -fresh joys and hopes that we see in the bosoms of our own fellow-men. -Morley Ernstein, however, was in the early day of life; fear was a -thing unknown to him, and even with awe he was not very familiar. -Thus, when Lieberg's cabriolet came to the door in Berkeley-square, he -sprang in with a light step; and, with as cheerful a voice as if he -had been going to a wedding, he gave his friend the "Good morning," -and asked if he were not a little late. - -"Oh, no!" answered Lieberg; "in very good time, and my chesnut here -will carry us up as if he were running for the Derby." - -Away they rolled at a rate which had something exhilarating in its -rapidity. London was soon left behind; its lengthy suburbs were -speedily crossed, and the singing of a lark in the early morning, told -that the horse's hoofs were treading the country. The spot appointed -was soon reached, the boy handed out the pistol case, and took the -horse, and Morley and his friend walked forward into the field, where -no one as yet had made his appearance. It was a beautiful summer -morning as ever was seen; the country, even in the neighbourhood of -London, looked lovely in the early light, and the world altogether -seemed too pleasant a place to quit willingly. But Morley Ernstein, -though his was the especial time of life when joys are fullest and -hopes brightest, and all the things that endear to us mortal existence -are in their most attractive aspect, never thought about quitting the -world at all. He found it difficult to impress upon his mind the idea -of danger; and though a momentary sensation of awe had come over him -during the preceding night, all such feeling had gone off, and he -looked about for his adversary, in the mere desire of getting a -disagreeable business over as soon as possible. - -"I would bet five to three that he does not come," said Lieberg; "and -really I think that if he do not, I shall go and horsewhip him myself, -for making me get out of my bed at half-past four." - -Scarcely had he spoken, however, when the roll of wheels was heard, -and a very handsome travelling chaise, with four post-horses, -appeared, and drew up at the gate leading into the field. The door -was opened, and forth came Mr. Neville, with his friend, Captain -Stallfed, whom Morley had seen once before, and a gentleman in black, -possessing extensive whiskers, not very well combed, long French-cut -hair, and a surgical appearance about the nose and eyes, which at once -bespoke his profession. - -"Upon my word," said Lieberg, "this looks like execution! Now, Morley, -what will you bet that all this is not part of a solemn farce, to -squeeze an apology out of you?" - -"It will not succeed," answered Morley, and he walked on with Lieberg, -to meet the advancing party. - -As they came near, the two seconds took a step forward, and Captain -Stallfed, as Lieberg had anticipated, began, after the ordinary -salutations, to work his way up to the demand of an apology. - -"My friend, Mr. Neville," he said, "has certainly been grossly -insulted by your friend, Sir Morley Ernstein. However, as Neville is -peculiarly situated in some respects, Colonel Lieberg, I have advised -him to content himself with an apology." He paused for a moment, as if -to see whether Lieberg would reply; but that gentleman was as silent -as the grave; and Captain Stallfed went on, with a slight degree of -embarrassment. "A-hem!" he said; "if, therefore, your friend thinks -fit to say that he is sorry for having used the threat of -horsewhipping my friend Neville, I have advised him to drop the -matter, and rest satisfied." - -"I think you are labouring under a mistake, Captain Stallfed," said -Lieberg; "my friend Sir Morley Ernstein would have the greatest -pleasure in saying that he is sorry for having threatened to horsewhip -your friend Mr. Neville, if he were at all sorry; but, as he fully did -intend to horsewhip him, in case Mr. Neville did not find a gentleman -of honour and repute, such as Captain Stallfed, to bring the matter to -another issue for him, you will easily perceive that my friend can -offer no apology whatsoever." - -Stallfed looked a little disconcerted, and merely saying--"Very well, -sir--very well!" retired to confer with Neville again, whose eyes, -during the brief conversation between his friend and Lieberg, had been -round the field, and up the road, and over the hill, with a very -anxious and expectant expression. Lieberg marked all this with a -smile, saying to Morley--"He is like a cowardly felon at the -gallows-foot, asking to be allowed time for another prayer; but we -must interrupt his shrift, otherwise I should not wonder if we were -interrupted in our proceedings. Captain Stallfed," he said, advancing -again a step or two, "we wait your pleasure, and, as it seems to me -that your friend is very apprehensive lest we should be annoyed by the -Bow-street officers, we had better proceed as fast as possible." - -Captain Stallfed bowed, frowned at Neville, and saying, not too low -for the other party to hear--"Nonsense--nonsense, man!--the thing -must be;" he came forward to make the necessary preparations with -Lieberg. - -The spot was chosen, the ground measured, and each second threw down a -glove, for his friend's standing place, Lieberg calmly overruling a -man[oe]uvre of Stallfed's, to place Morley in a line with a tree. In -the meanwhile, the young Baronet walked up and down, with his arms -folded on his chest, thinking the preparations somewhat long, while -Neville, with the surgeon at his elbow, stood at some distance, -listening to such consolations as the man of healing could give him, -and evidently under the influence of no very dignified trepidation. -Morley, who, from time to time, cast a glance that way, could not help -smiling at the bend of the knees, the rounding of the shoulders, and -the wandering eagerness of the eye. He thought every moment, indeed, -that his gallant antagonist would take to his heels and run, and -probably it was only the proximity of the surgeon that prevented such -a consummation. Everything being at length complete, however, Lieberg -placed his man, saying--"Now, don't miss him, Morley." - -"I don't intend to fire at him," replied Morley. - -Lieberg looked at him with astonishment, but there was no time for -further explanation, and merely saying--"You are joking, surely," he -withdrew. - -In the meanwhile, Neville, in dead silence had been brought to his -ground, and Stallfed gave him some directions in a low voice. "Is the -handkerchief tight round your arm?" he asked--"well, raise your pistol -smartly, keep him on the outside of your elbow, and you are sure to -hit him. Can't you steady your hand, man? That d--d shaking will ruin -you!" - -Neville answered not a word, and it is probable that at that moment he -neither saw, heard, nor understood. The two seconds, however, retired; -and, as it had been arranged that the parties were to fire together, -the "one, two, three" was pronounced, and both pistols went off very -nearly at the same moment. Neville's, indeed, was a little the first, -as he had been instructed by his friend, to fire even before the word -"three" was pronounced. To the surprise of all parties present, not -only did Morley fire directly in the air, but Neville, notwithstanding -his terror, his confusion, and his shaking hand, sent his ball with so -true an aim, that it passed through Morley's coat, and slightly -wounded him, by grazing his right shoulder. Unconscious of his -success, however, he fell to the ground at once, as soon as he heard -the report of his adversary's pistol; but upon Stallfed and the -surgeon coming up, both of whom had clearly seen, that Morley had -fired in the air, the swindler got upon his feet again, declaring that -he had stumbled over a stone. - -"Stumbled!" exclaimed Stallfed, in an angry tone; "why what the devil -business had you to move at all? I suppose, Colonel Lieberg, as your -friend fired in the air, we cannot demand another fire!" - -Ere Lieberg could reply, the party in the field was increased by three -or four other persons, at the head of whom appeared R----, the -Bow-street officer, coming up, as was then usually the case, in -encounters of such a kind, somewhat slowly and tardily, to prevent a -duel, which had already taken place. - -"These, I presume," said Lieberg, as he marked the approach of the new -comers; "these, I presume, are the gentlemen whom your friend -expected, and of course we shall have the pleasure of figuring at -Bow-street, while you have the satisfaction of seeing the whole in a -newspaper." - -By the time this was said, the officers were up with them, and gave -them intimation that they must present themselves before a magistrate. -To Lieberg and Morley, R---- and his companions were perfectly civil -and deferential; but with Neville and Captain Stallfed--ay, and with -the surgeon those gentlemen had brought thither, the officers were -quite friendly and familiar. Promising to appear at Bow-street as soon -as the magistrates took their seat in the office, Lieberg and Morley -got into the cabriolet, and drove away, Morley tying a handkerchief -round his arm to stanch the blood, which was now trickling through his -coat. The officers remained with the res-t of the party, and R--- with -his hands in his breeches pockets, gazed over the chariot and four -horses with a cunning smile. - -"Why Nevvy," he said, "this is a flare-up, and will cost you a -trifle--I take it!" - -"I'll tell you what, R----," said the Captain, "it ought to be worth -five hundred pounds to him, if he manages the matter well. Why, having -fought a duel with Sir Morley Ernstein, and wounded him in the arm, is -enough to make a man of him." - -"Hard to do that," said R----, with a knowing look; "why, Nevvy, how -did you ever screw yourself up to come to the scratch?--cost you a -pint of thunder and lightning, I'll bet. But come, we must be jogging; -as the chay is full, I'll get up behind. We wont put the darbies on -you, this time, Nevvy; though, if you don't mind what you're about, -it'll come to that, I give you warning. I had some talk about you, the -other day, with the old gentleman in the wig, and he said, it wouldn't -do much longer; so keep quiet, there's a good fellow." - -The first case called on before the magistrates that morning, was that -of the duel; the tidings of which had spread far and wide through -London, before ten o'clock, and the office was consequently full of -reporters. The matter was soon settled, in the usual manner; but the -magistrate in a grave, but kindly, tone, thought fit to address to -Morley a few words of remonstrance, upon the practice of duelling in -general, adding a caution, in regard of the choice of associates, -while his eye rested with stern severity upon Neville and his worthy -second. - -"I thank you much, sir," said Morley, with his usual firm and manly -manner, "for the warning that you give me; but, you will understand -that these persons are not my associates, and not even my -acquaintances. I chanced to meet one of them in the commission of acts -which I judged imprudent and wrong, and I threatened him with -chastisement. As he found a person bearing his Majesty's commission, -to act as his friend on the occasion, I thought fit to give him that -satisfaction which is usual amongst gentlemen; reserving to myself the -right, and holding firmly the determination, of chastising him as I -promised, should he give me further occasion for offence." - -"I will beg of these gentlemen of the press, to remark," said Lieberg, -turning towards the reporters, "that my friend, Sir Morley Ernstein, -only consented to meet Mr. Neville, because he did not choose to -refuse any man satisfaction when it was demanded; but in order to -guard against a bad precedent being established in favour of Mr. -Neville, let me add, that I consider him a coward as well as a -blackguard, and only regret that my friend treated him with so much -lenity." - -He was going to add more, but the magistrate interfered, and Lieberg. -left the place, accompanied by Morley, the former saying, with a -laugh-- - -"It was necessary, my dear Ernstein, to make some observation on the -business, which these gentlemen would not very much like repeated, -otherwise they would dress up so smart a story of it in the -newspapers, that Neville, for the rest of his life, would be treated -as a gentleman, and have the privilege of plundering all sorts of -young fools with impunity." - -Notwithstanding all Lieberg's precautions, the report of the affair in -the newspapers, was such as newspaper reports but too frequently are. -There was so much truth in the statement as to give it perfect -verisimilitude, and to render it impossible to say that it was all a -lie, but with so much left untold as to create an impression as -erroneous as if the whole had been untrue. It appeared by the report, -that Sir Morley Ernstein had fought the well-known Mr. Neville, and -had been severely wounded in the arm; that the parties had been -brought to Bow-street, and bound over to keep the peace, some sharp -words passing between them in the office. The statement ended with the -words--"The quarrel, we find, took place about a lady!" - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - - -Morley Ernstein cast down the evening newspaper in disgust, and walked -up and down the room with angry feelings in his heart, which would not -bear control. Whither was it that his thoughts first wandered? The -reader need hardly ask--it was to Juliet Carr. As early in the day as -the usages of society had permitted, he had called upon Lady Malcolm, -but, as almost invariably happens when one has a particular object in -seeing any friend, male or female, both Lady Malcolm herself, and Miss -Carr were reported by the servant to be out. His next visit was to Mr. -Hamilton, and there the report was very unfavourable. The next was to -a surgeon; for his shoulder, though the wound had been but slight, was -becoming very painful. The man of healing, of course, put him to ten -times more pain, in order to give him relief; and thus Morley had all -the most unpleasant preparatives that a man can have, for seeing his -name in a newspaper. He had been disappointed in his expectations--he -had been grieved for a friend--he had been put to positive pain -himself, and now he saw such an account of an affair, which was -assuredly not discreditable to himself, as to produce an impression -the most to be dreaded, on the minds of those he loved and esteemed. -His imagination was a quick one, and with the rapid magic of thought, -he summoned to his mind, all that Juliet Carr would think--all that -Juliet Carr would feel, on hearing that he had quarrelled with, and -fought a swindler "_on account of a lady!_" - -Men little know to what an immense extent their own acquaintance with -all the evil and wickedness of the world affects their estimate of -other people's thoughts and opinions. The rascal, nine times out of -ten, supposes every body to possess the same rascally feelings as -himself; and men, in picturing to their own mind the thoughts of -women, imagine that those thoughts are founded upon knowledge that few -of the gentler sex have any means of possessing. Morley Ernstein, -himself, though he believed the mind of Juliet Carr to be as pure as -that of an angel, fancied nevertheless, that the moment her eye rested -upon that paragraph, she would see him in the midst of scenes of vice -and licentiousness, quarrelling with a blackleg, for an abandoned -woman. - -Morley was quite mistaken, however. It is true, that scarcely one of -all the many male eyes which that day read the news of Bow-street, -failed to receive exactly such an impression from the paragraph -concerning himself. But what did Juliet Carr think? Any thing but what -her lover supposed. Juliet Carr was a great reader of character; she -was endowed by nature with that discriminating power--for depend upon -it, reader, it is a gift, not an acquirement--which enables us by some -traits, often even undefinable to ourselves, and generally totally -unnoticed by others, to distinguish at once the innate or habitual -springs of action in those with whom we are brought in contact. I know -not well, whether that gift be most likely to prove a blessing or a -curse. It may often guide our actions, but it seldom guides our -affections, and too often renders the struggle between inclination and -reason, more painful than it always is. Juliet Carr had discovered -very rapidly all the principal traits of Morley Ernstein's character; -but even had not that been the case, she was not sufficiently -acquainted with the evils of the world in general, to conjure up the -picture which Morley supposed would present itself to her imagination. - -Thus, when she read the account of the duel, she felt quite certain -that the cause of quarrel was some impetuous act springing from a -generous impulse. When she came to the fact of his having fired in the -air, a smile of pleasure brightened her face, crossing the look of -painful anxiety with which she had been reading; but when in the end -she found that he was wounded, she dropped the paper from her hand -with feelings of mingled fear and sorrow, and with something like -self-reproach, as if her counsels of the night before had caused the -injury under which he suffered. Taking up the newspaper quickly again, -she carried it at once into the neighbouring room, where Lady Malcolm -was sitting, and pointing out the paragraph with a pale cheek and an -anxious eye, which her worthy cousin did not fail to remark, she asked -Lady Malcolm, if she could not send to obtain some more certain -information as to the real state of their young friend. Lady Malcolm -replied, that she would write at once, and the letter was accordingly -despatched. - -It was now about half-past eight o'clock at night, and to make sure of -the note being properly delivered, and that a correct account of -Morley Ernstein's health should be brought, Juliet's cousin despatched -an old and faithful servant of her own; who was well acquainted with -good Adam Gray, the young gentleman's attached dependent. In about -three quarters of an hour the man returned, saying, that he had left -the note, and that Sir Morley Ernstein must be better, for he had gone -out, the waiter said, on purpose to see Miss Barham. - -Lady Malcolm remarked that Juliet turned slightly pale, and being the -best disposed woman in the world to relieve persons from unpleasant -sensations, she replied, "Nonsense! there must be some mistake, -William. Did you see old Adam Gray." - -"No, my lady," replied the man; "I did not; but the waiter told me; -that Sir Morley had especially directed him, if any one called, to say -that he had gone to see Miss Barham." - -Lady Malcolm was one of those who make the most of a difficulty by -attempting to get over it, and she was in the high road to try whether -she could not persuade the man that he was mistaken, when Juliet rose -quietly, and went into the other room, as if to seek a book. Her -ladyship then saw that there was no need of proceeding further, and -suffered her servant to depart. - -In the meanwhile, Juliet rested her hand upon the table in the next -room for a moment, and gazed thoughtfully at the lamp. The flame was -bright and clear--and whether she found some fanciful affinity between -the object on which her eyes were fixed, and that of which her mind -was in search, I know not; but certainly at that moment she was -seeking for light, upon subjects connected with her own feelings, and -with the circumstances round her, and the lamp of the mind had -suddenly become dim and shadowy. Now many a reader may think that the -question with which she busied herself was, whether Morley Ernstein -was really in love with another? whether, after all that his lips had -said, and all that his look had said--nay, all that his whole -demeanour had said, during the preceding evening, his heart could -really be given to a different object--his affections at that very -time engrossed by another? Such, however, was not the question that -Juliet Carr addressed to herself. It did not at all refer to the -feelings of Morley Ernstein. It referred to her own. She asked -herself, what it was that made such strange sensations shoot through -her bosom, at the thought of his passing that evening with another? -She asked herself, why she should feel as if a cold hand pressed her -heart, at the idea of his being attached to another? Had she been -dreaming? Had she been indulging visions that she had no right to -indulge? or, had she really suffered her imagination to be captivated -by a wild, gay, ardent, young man, who perhaps addressed the same -flattery of words and manner to some new acquaintance every night? -Juliet Carr was frightened at her own feelings, and for the rest of -the evening, though not absolutely melancholy, she was grave and -thoughtful. - -About eleven o'clock on the following day, Lady Malcolm went out, not -telling her fair visitor where she was going at that early hour. It -must be recollected, that she was first cousin to Juliet's mother, and -her period of life was somewhat more than that mother's age would have -been had she been still living. She was, perhaps forty-eight or nine; -and cares and sorrows--those sad beauty-killers--had left her less of -the appearance of youth than might have been her portion, if her life -had passed smoothly and happily. It was upon the strength of her age, -then, that Lady Malcolm now ventured towards Berkeley-square, in order -to visit Morley Ernstein, and enquire into his proceedings with her -own lips. - -In the meantime, however, that young gentleman himself, as so often -happens on such occasions, had been impelled towards the house of Lady -Malcolm, taking his way, as if on purpose, by streets the most -distinct and opposite to those which the good lady herself pursued. He -had not the slightest idea, it is true, that there was a chance of her -coming to call upon him; but still, if the truth must be told, his -heart beat with a pleasurable pulse when he heard that Lady Malcolm -was out, and that Miss Carr was at home. - -He followed the servant quickly up the stairs, through the first -drawing-room, and into the second, where Juliet was busy, writing a -letter; so that she scarcely heard his name announced ere he was -before her. The colour mounted up into her cheek, a smile came upon -her lip, and she received him kindly and courteously; but still there -was, in her manner, or at least Morley thought so, a certain degree of -coldness, which his warm and eager nature could not endure, even for a -moment. Time to think had been allowed him since the first impression, -which had been produced upon his mind by reading the newspaper-account -of his duel with Neville, and various other circumstances had -combined, to fix him in a resolution which he now proceeded to -execute. He sat down, then, at once beside Juliet Carr, saying-- - -"You must forgive me for coming at this early hour, and, still -further, you must forgive me for preventing you from writing your -letter, perhaps for a long time, as I intend to stay here till Lady -Malcolm comes back." - -There was something in his manner that agitated Juliet Carr, but she -would not give way to the sensations of her own heart, nor suffer -herself to fancy, for a moment, that there was any other feeling -towards her in his, than common friendship. - -"Indeed, I am very happy to see you," she replied; "we were very -anxious to hear of you last night; for we saw, in the newspaper, an -account--" - -"Of my having become a duellist, notwithstanding all your kind -cautions," said Morley. - -"Yes," answered Juliet Carr, with a bright smile; "but also of your -having acted well and nobly, even though you did yield to the bad -influence of man's customs." - -"You mean in not firing at my adversary," said Morley. "Well, I will -confess to you, that at the moment I was conversing with you, the -night before, I had fully made up my mind to shoot him. Nay, more, I -thought I should be serving society by so doing." - -"Oh, then," exclaimed Juliet, warmly, "I do rejoice that I said what I -did, if I am to believe it had any effect upon you. Think, with what -different feelings we should now have met, if you had killed that -man--think how sad and melancholy you would have been." - -"Your words had every effect," replied Morley, "for they entirely -stopped me in my purpose, and I will own, now, that I am most glad I -listened to them; not only, because it gives me pleasure to have -followed your counsel, but because I am satisfied, that counsel was -right; and now let us speak, Juliet," he continued, "of that newspaper -account which you saw of the business, for, believe me, your good -opinion is more valuable to me than anything else in life." - -Juliet blushed, and her heart beat quickly; but following that first -impulse, which generally affects the mind of woman on such occasions, -she sought to avoid the more agitating part of the theme, and replied, -quickly, "I see that one part of the account must be false; for it -stated that you were severely wounded. It was that which made me and -Lady Malcolm so anxious to hear how you were. She wrote to you last -night, but--" - -"I was out," replied Morley, with that straight-forward frankness of -demeanour, which wrought a change in Juliet's feelings at every -word--"I would have come, in answer to her note, myself, but I was -obliged to go out, early in the evening, to see a young lady of the -name of Barham, whose situation is one which, I think, will interest -you deeply when you come to hear the particulars." - -Juliet Carr drew a long, deep sigh; her eyes remained fixed upon the -table; the fine turned upper lip quivered, as she listened; and the -beautiful nostril expanded, as if some struggling feelings in her -breast required more breath in their eager contest. - -"It was my intention," continued Morley, "to interest Mr. Hamilton, my -former guardian, in this business, and to induce him to do all for -Miss Barham that I could wish to do; but he, I am sorry to say, is -extremely ill, and I must apply to Lady Malcolm and yourself to help -me." - -"Oh, that we will, willingly!" exclaimed Juliet. "But what is the -matter, Morley?--why cannot you act for yourself? Is this the lady, -about whom they say you fought the duel?" - -There was a slight smile upon her face as she asked the last -question--but each of the three was somewhat difficult to answer, and -Morley chose the least. - -"It was not exactly about her that the quarrel took place," he said, -"though it was in her house. This man, Neville, who is a swindler, had -gone there with purposes which, perhaps, Juliet, I could better -explain to Lady Malcolm than yourself. It is sufficient to say, that -they were insulting to an innocent and amiable girl, overwhelmed with -misfortunes of various kinds: first, the death of her father, a poor, -but respectable clergyman, after a long and tedious illness, which -exhausted all his resources; next, the pressure of poverty; and last, -but greatest of all, the infamous conduct of a brother, who has -abandoned himself to every sort of evil, and would sell or betray his -sister for a very slight consideration. It was the wish to see if I -could do something, both to relieve and reclaim this youth, that took -me to Miss Barham's house, when I met the man, Neville, there. I had -never beheld her before, but I then saw enough to make me sure that -she was innocent and good, and you may easily imagine, that I did not -feel disposed to suffer her to be injured or insulted in my presence." - -"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Juliet, enthusiastically, "I am sure you would -not--I am sure that you would do everything in your power to protect -and assist her." - -Somehow or another, I know not well how, Morley Ernstein seemed to -feel he had got a little the advantage of Juliet Carr, and he replied, -with a smile-- - -"I am most anxious to do everything; but how it is to be done is the -question, Juliet; for I must let you into one secret--this Miss Barham -is young and very beautiful." - -He saw the colour in Juliet's cheek vary, in a manner that gave him -greater pleasure than anything that he had beheld for many a day; and -yet he hastened to restore it to a steadier tone. - -"There are two difficulties, Juliet," he said; "one of which I do not -like to encounter, and one of which I have no right to encounter. You -will easily understand," he continued, with a smile, "that I cannot -take this pretty Helen Barham to my house, or even send her thither -and give her an asylum there, though, for a thousand reasons, it were -better that she should leave London. If she remains, I cannot shield -her from persecution and annoyance; and my being with her frequently, -might produce an impression on the minds of others, that my views -towards her were of an evil nature; while in herself," he added, -slowly and gravely, "it might induce a belief that I am actuated by -feelings of personal attachment, which I can never feel. Do not -suppose me vain, Juliet; but it is right to remember that, thrown -altogether into my society, resting upon me for protection and -support, experiencing some kindness from me, and feeling more -gratitude than I deserve, she might learn to entertain sentiments that -I could never return, and should be deeply grieved to disappoint." - -Juliet's lips moved, though there was no sound proceeded from them, -but her heart said something that Morley Ernstein might have been glad -to hear. - -"To speak the truth, Juliet," continued Morley, "it is more lest she -should mistake me, than lest others should mistake me, that I am -anxious. It so seldom happens that a man is very eager to serve a -woman without some motive, that she might well think I am influenced -by an attachment to herself, unless--unless--unless, in short, I can -find some more proper person than myself to stand prominently forward -in this business. Some facts which I heard last night, and which made -me hurry to her instantly, render it the more necessary that she -should be removed from her present abode at once." - -"Why?" demanded Juliet; "is she in any danger?" - -"She is in danger of being placed in the most painful situation -possible," replied Morley. "Her brother has thrown himself entirely in -the power of the swindler Neville. Their views upon this poor girl are -such as I can hardly explain, for there are things which, to ears so -pure as yours, are offensive even to hear named." - -"Alas!" replied Juliet, looking up in his face, with a sweet yet sad -smile, "one cannot live any time in the world, Morley, without being -well aware that there are many vices and evils of all kinds going on -around us. I am not sure that it would be beneficial to us to be -ignorant that such things exist, if they must exist; but, however, I -can easily conceive that this man's views and purposes are infamous. -The only thing I cannot comprehend is, how a brother can lend himself -to disgrace a sister. What can be his inducement? What can be the -motive strong enough to lead him to an act which one would imagine the -most depraved mind would shrink from with horror?" - -"The hope of life, Juliet," replied Morley--"the fear of death. These -are his inducements; but that part of the subject I must not touch -upon with you. Wherever he is concerned, I will deal with the affair -myself, and hope still to save him from the consequences of his own -crime and folly. If he cannot be saved, however, we must shield his -sister from his importunities; and if you will help me in this--if you -will give her your countenance, assistance, and protection, I am sure -she will be grateful, and I, Juliet, will be deeply so." - -"I will do anything you like," cried Juliet, with a glowing -countenance; "I will go to her this moment, if you please. Oh, I -forgot I was in London!" she added, sitting down again on the sofa, -from which she had partly risen. "But, however, whatever you think -best to be done, I am quite ready to do. You know, I believe, Morley, -that my means of helping her--in point of money, I mean--are not very -large, and that I have some poor pensioners at home, but still I have -quite enough to give her assistance for the time, and I shall soon -have more." - -Morley gazed at her with sensations that kept him silent for a moment. -"It is unnecessary," he replied, at length; "I can supply all that. I -have far more than I know how to employ properly, Juliet, and, indeed, -I think that when I have engaged you so deeply in this affair that you -cannot escape me, I shall try to induce you to give me counsel in the -disposal of that wealth which is too great not to imply a serious -obligation to employ it properly. Will you be my monitor, Juliet?" - -Juliet Carr looked down, and again turned pale, saying, in a low -voice, "Willingly, Morley, if I could be vain enough to think my -counsels would aid or benefit you." - -Strange as it may seem, the same sudden paleness which had alarmed -Morley Ernstein on the preceding night, making him doubt whether -Juliet's heart was free, and resolve to bridle his impetuous spirit -and proceed coolly and slowly to ascertain what were her real feelings -before he committed himself, lest vanity should meet a rebuff and love -a disappointment--the same sudden paleness now produced a contrary -effect. During their conference of that morning there had been a -thousand little signs, a thousand little passing expressions of the -countenance, which had raised hope and expectation. There had been a -light in her eyes when she raised them suddenly to his face, a -changing colour under his glance, an agitation in the voice, an -occasional embarrassment in the manner,--all of which shewed Morley -Ernstein that he had the power, at least, of producing emotion in the -heart of Juliet Carr, and there is something in that power which -renders it akin either to love or fear. Morley was very sure that -there was no touch of the latter passion in her feelings. He hoped, -then, naturally enough, that there might be somewhat of the former. -How the matter would have gone on at that moment, Heaven only knows, -but just as the words passed Juliet's lips, there was a loud knock at -the street-door, and Juliet added--"There is Lady Malcolm!" - -There was no time left then for any long explanations, but Morley took -the hand which rested on the table--it was certainly a fair book, -that might have been kissed by Jews or infidels, with no light -devotion--and pressing his lips upon it, he said--"Thus, dear Juliet, -I seal your promise." - -"What promise?" exclaimed Juliet Carr, with a start and a blush. - -"To be my monitor," replied Morley. He would have fain added "for -life," but he dared not risk all at that moment, and ere either of -them could utter more, Lady Malcolm entered the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - - -Each act and fact in human nature, and in human life, is connected by -so many links, with everything around, that the man who sets out to -tell a history, if he would tell it completely, has as many different -threads to follow, as a spider in the middle of his web. If he pursue -one for any length, without deviating, he finds that he has left forty -or fifty other branches on either side, which--each of them more or -less--affect the narrative in the end. He has to come back for each, -to follow each out carefully, or else some of the meshes in the web -will be found broken, when most he wants them. Thus must we return, to -take up the history of Morley Ernstein, at that particular point where -we left off to expatiate upon men's miscalculations of the thoughts of -women, being thence seduced away by very natural inducements, to tell -what was really going on in the mind of sweet Juliet Carr; and thence -again, as speedily to recount her interview with Morley on the -subsequent day. - -After having thrown down the newspaper, then, and strode up and down -the room for some time, with indignation and bitterness of heart, -Morley began to consider what was the best course for him to pursue in -order to prevent such impressions, as he feared had been produced, -from becoming permanent in the mind of her he loved. In short, he -acted like any other impetuous man. He first became violently angry at -the apprehension of an evil, and then, after having wasted half an -hour in the whirl of passion, began to do what it would have been -better to do at first, and think of means to remedy what had gone -amiss. He determined, then, as we have seen, to tell Juliet Carr as -much as he could tell of Helen Barham's history, and to explain -frankly and straightforwardly his whole conduct. The only question -was, how was this to be brought about naturally? Juliet Carr would -certainly never demand any account of how or why he had fought the -duel, or who was the lady to whom the newspapers referred. Nay, more, -most probably she would even shrink from the subject altogether, if -such suspicions were excited in her mind as he anticipated. - -After some thought, the plan suddenly flashed upon his mind, of -interesting Lady Malcolm, and even Juliet herself, in the situation of -Helen Barham, and thus delivering himself from two difficulties at -once. What politicians love does make of us! As soon as the idea -struck him, he saw the whole benefit of it, and resolved to follow it -out immediately. He would break through all ceremony; he would go to -Lady Malcolm that very night, and with this view he rang the bell, and -asked if he could have his dinner earlier than he had ordered it. - -The waiter replied, "Yes, sir;" and, as usual in such cases, the -dinner was half an hour later than ever. Morley ate it, when it did -come, as fast as possible, but he had just concluded when information -was brought him, that a gentleman wished to see him upon business, and -ordering him to be admitted, with a somewhat impatient expression, Mr. -Higgins was ushered in with a deferential air. With that careful -eschewance of all listening ears, which was one point of Mr. Higgins's -prudence, that gentleman remained bowing in silence, till the waiter -was out of the room, after which he approached a little nearer to the -table, saying-- - -"I have done the matter, sir. I can tell you all about it, now; I set -somebody to pump Nevvy himself, for I could make nothing of Bill, and -I find the lad has done that which shews he prefers hemp to lint any -time, by way of a neck-handkerchief. He'll swing, sir--there's no -helping it. He'll swing--you'll see," and Mr. Higgins stuck his hands -forcibly into his breeches pockets, as the most powerful mode of -asseveration which he could adopt. "I don't like exactly to tell you -what he's done, sir," he continued, "though I'm sure you wouldn't -peach, but still--" - -"I know what he has done," answered Morley, calmly; "all I want to -know now is, whose is the name he forged?" - -Higgins gazed at him in some surprise, at finding that the young -gentleman had arrived so rapidly at so dangerous a piece of -information. - -"Why, sir," he replied, "as you know so much, I might as well tell you -all, but yet, when a lad's neck's in jeopardy--" - -"All I seek," said Morley, somewhat impatiently, "is the lad's own -good. If I cannot benefit him I will not hurt him, depend upon it; so -speak out, Mr. Higgins--who is the man?" - -"Why, he is a friend of yours, sir," replied Higgins, "that is what -makes me so careful." - -"Mr. Hamilton!" said Morley, looking in the man's face with -consternation; for he well knew that the crime of forgery was one -which, in the eyes of the banker, however tender and lenient he was on -other occasions, could only be expiated by death. "Mr. Hamilton! That -is, indeed, unfortunate!" - -"No, no, sir," answered Higgins, "both he and Neville knew better than -that. The Colonel, sir--the Colonel's the man. No one would ever -believe that any of Neville's party could have a bill of Mr. -Hamilton's, but as for the Colonel, sir--the Count, some folks call -him--being a little bit upon the turf, and a good deal in the world, -and all that, the thing was likely enough." - -While the man had been speaking, Morley Ernstein had revolved in his -own mind all the consequences of Lieberg's possessing the power of -life and death over William Barham. He doubted not, for a moment, that -his friend would abandon all thought of proceeding against the -unfortunate young man, at his request; but after what had passed -between them the morning before, his mind could not help entertaining -a fear, that Lieberg might use the hold he had acquired, to the injury -of Helen Barham. He knew that Lieberg would think it doing her no -wrong, to seek to place her in a situation of affluence and ease, at -the expense of what the world in general calls virtue. He could not -help acknowledging, too, that Lieberg's chance of success in such a -pursuit was very much more probable than that of the man Neville. -Strikingly handsome as he was in person, there was a fascination about -his manners, a charm in his eloquence, which Morley himself could not -resist. He felt that it was sometimes dangerous to him, but yet it was -most agreeable; and even he himself, with all his strong good sense, -while talking with Lieberg, lost the clear distinction of what was -right and wrong, or only retained it by a great struggle, which, if he -abandoned for a moment, all his ideas on such subjects became vague -and shadowy, as in that pleasant moment when tired, but not too tired, -we sink into the arms of sleep, scarcely knowing at what point our -waking thoughts desert us. What might be the influence of such a man, -Morley asked, over a young and inexperienced girl like Helen Barham, -when he had the life of her brother in his hands? Morley feared very -much for the result: he had marked, in that poor girl, the traces of -strong and deep feelings; eager and somewhat wild enthusiasms--seeds, -in short, that might be speedily made to shoot up into powerful -passions. Yes, he feared very much for the result! There was nothing -to be done, but to remove her speedily and at once from the scene, -before the attempt to save her brother was made, and his resolution -was taken accordingly. - -"There, Mr. Higgins," he said, pushing across a note to that worthy; -"there is what I promised; and now tell me one or two things more -about this business. First of all, how soon is the matter likely to be -discovered?" - -"Why, on Saturday, sir," replied Higgins; "I hear it's a promissory -note at a month, and it's up on Saturday. Neville has made the boy -believe that he can and will stop the thing, but he can no more do -that than he can fly. The note is out of his hands long ago. The way -the thing was done was very unfair to the lad, too, I hear. He has a -great art of imitating any writing he sees, and they got him to copy -the Colonel's name, which he had never heard of before, making him -think that it was that of somebody who had been dead a long while. -When he found out the trick, however, and was in so great a fright -that they thought he would go and blab the whole directly, they coaxed -him down by giving him some forty or fifty pounds of the money, which -he went and spent directly with a girl named Sally Cole. Neville, too, -persuaded him that he would take the bill up, though Neville took care -not to be present when William signed the name." - -"It is strange," said Morley, "how a set of men, so well known to be -scoundrels as these are, can ever get a forged bill like that into -circulation." - -"Oh it is very easily done, sir," replied Higgins, "it goes through -half-a-dozen hands, each of whom make a good thing by it. They sold it -to a man for half the money, or perhaps less; then he sold it to one -of the low regular money-lenders for thirty or forty pounds more. He -again sent it to another, who had a somewhat better name; and then, -when my Lord This-thing or my Lord That-thing comes to him for four or -five thousand pounds, he will give him this bill as part payment. -However, they'll soon get hold of poor Bill, for every one of them -will give him up, and there are plenty ready to turn evidence against -him." - -"Then you think there is no chance," said Morley, "of Neville ever -recovering the bill?" - -"Not he," answered Higgins; "a thousand to one, sir, it is in the -hands of some banker by this time, and unless one could prig the -clerk's pocket-book, there is no stopping the matter now. The only way -would be, to get Bill out of the way, but I doubt if these fellows -would let him go; for they know very well, that Sir Richard will have -one of them: and as the boy is boots, you see, sir, they think he had -better swing early." - -"They may find themselves mistaken," said Morley; "however, I must see -what can be done. Good night, Mr. Higgins." - -"I say, sir," said Higgins, with a sly look, before he departed: "Have -you got hold of the young lady yet?" - -"You mistake, my good friend," said Morley, sternly; "I have no such -intentions as you suppose." - -"Well, sir," said the man, nothing abashed, "you'll easily manage it -if you like. Bill Barham told me he was going to call upon you -to-night between seven and eight; and you could easily bring him to -terms--that I saw very well. No offence, sir, I hope. Good night." - -Morley Ernstein remained standing for a moment in thought. "The girl -must be removed," he said, speaking to himself, "and if the youth can -be induced to go and confess all to Lieberg, with an offer of repaying -the money, I doubt not all may yet go well. When Lieberg finds that -Helen Barham is gone, and that even her brother does not know where to -find her, he will of course think that I have seduced her, and taken -her away. Well, let him do so, for the present! If Lady Malcolm helps -me, we will soon convince him of the contrary. In the meantime things -must take their course; I will go to her at once, and see if she will -put herself entirely under my direction, before I speak with Lady -Malcolm." - -Ere he set out, he left directions to inform William Barham, if that -praiseworthy young gentleman called, that he was gone to his -sister's house; and in Davis-street he got into a hackney-coach with -the intention of proceeding thither more quickly. That sad and tardy -contrivance for wasting men's time, however, was not at all suited to -the eager spirit of Morley Ernstein, and ere it had rumbled through -more than two or three streets, he made the coachman stop, paid him -his fare, jumped out, and proceeded on foot. On arriving at Helen -Barham's dwelling, he was admitted instantly; for the maid, who had -her own notion of the object of his visits, had heard all about him -from the groom, who had accompanied him at first, and judging that the -arrangement would do very well, took care to be especially civil to -one whom she supposed would be her future master. She even made way -for him to go up the stairs before her, and Morley, who was too eager -to be ceremonious, passed on, and opened the drawing-room door -himself. - -Helen Barham had learned to know his knock and his step, however, and -with her pencil in her hand, as she sat working hard at a drawing -before her, she gazed up with a glad and eager look towards the -opening door, to see if her ear had not deceived her. It was by this -time night. There might be a ray or two of daylight still in the sky, -but not enough for her to see her drawing. The windows therefore had -been closed, and the lamp lighted, and as she sat with the rays -falling full upon her face, with her bright eyes raised towards the -opening door, her lips apart and shewing the white teeth, her form -bent forward with expectation, and the fair, delicate hand holding the -pencil suspended over the paper, certainly nothing more lovely could -have presented itself to the eyes of Morley Ernstein. Then came up in -her face the light of joy as she saw him, the beaming of gratitude and -regard, as if to give sunshine to the picture. - -It was altogether like a fine Rembrandt, for, both morally and -physically, the full light was all concentrated in that one spot in -the room, and everything else around was dark to the eye, and to the -heart. There she sat, alone--a being, formed to ornament society, to -give happiness to others, to receive happiness from them, to animate, -to cheer, to soothe, to taste, to feel, to enjoy! There she sat, -alone, pursuing solitary and ungrateful labour through the long hours -of the night, with sad thoughts as her only companions, and no voice -of father, of brother, or of husband, to comfort and support her. The -first reflection that crossed the mind of Morley Ernstein, after the -impression of her dazzling beauty subsided, was, how sad and gloomy -must her existence have been for many a long day past! The feelings in -his heart might well have tempted him to take the stricken lamb to his -bosom, to nourish, and to cheer her there, without one evil sensation, -or one thought but for her good; and the reader may well pardon him, -if--although he was guarded by a passion, intense and true, for -another--if, notwithstanding all he could do, there was a tenderness -in his manner, a gentle affection in his tone, that was very dangerous -to poor Helen Barham. She sprang up, she held out her hand to him, she -exclaimed, with a look that told the whole joy of her heart-- - -"Oh! how glad I am to see you! Do you know, I have found a way of -supporting myself quite well, till I can get some more scholars. Since -I saw you, I have sold two of my drawings to a shop in Pall Mall, and -received two guineas for them. I did not think the things were worth -anything, but merely for my scholars to copy; but as I went past the -windows of a drawing shop, I saw some that did not seem better than -mine, so I resolved to try. The man gave me two guineas at once, and -said he would take as many more as I could bring; so that now, you -see, I am rich." - -"I am afraid, my dear Miss Barham," said Morley, with a smile, "that I -have come to destroy all your fine projects; but, do not be alarmed, -it is to substitute others in their place, which, I trust, may not be -disagreeable to you." - -The sensation of her position in regard to Morley Ernstein, her total -dependence, as it were, upon him, the power he seemed to have over her -fate, and the right of interfering in it, which he had at once -assumed, never seemed to affect Helen Barham painfully when she was -pouring forth expressions of gratitude for what he had done, or when -showing her thankfulness in word, in look, or in tone. But when he -seemed about to propose any line of conduct, or offer any further -assistance, a vague sensation of apprehension, as it were, a sort of -indistinct consciousness that whatever he asked her, were it right or -wrong, she would do, caused the fluttering blood to come into her -cheek, her heart to beat, and her breathing to grow quick with -expectation. - -"What is it you wish me to do?" she asked, in a tone that implied, -"You have but to tell me, and I will do it." - -Morley paused for a moment before he answered. There was something in -the whole circumstances of the moment, and especially in the -extraordinary difference between the manner with which Helen Barham -now received him, and that with which she had first met him some days -before, which affected him strangely. Was there again a struggle in -his heart? Was there again temptation? Was there again the voice of -the earthly spirit prompting him to rush impetuously to the -gratification of every impulse without fear or thought of the -consequences to himself and others? Reader, we will not pry-into his -heart too closely; we will not look for that which it might be painful -to find. If Morley Ernstein was tempted, he overcame the temptation; -nor did it reach such a point, that the better spirit was called to -fight vehemently against the adversary. - -He paused for a moment, and his heart beat quick--but that was all; -and he then explained to Helen that he had discovered the person whose -name her brother had so criminally used--that he was a friend of his -own--and that he believed, beyond all doubt, he should have the means -of inducing him to stop all proceedings against the offender. In the -next place, he told her, that he still thought it absolutely -necessary, both on her own and her brother's account, that she should, -immediately remove from her present abode, into the country. He -informed her that it was his intention, if possible, to induce William -Barham to go abroad to one of the British Colonies, where employment -of an honourable kind would be found for him; but, at the same time, -he showed her, that if her brother was still suffered to entertain any -hopes of concealing the forgery, by playing into the hands of the man -Neville, he might be kept lingering on in England till it was too late -to save him, and at all events might never be disentangled from the -evil companions to whom he had devoted himself. At the same time he -urged that the only way to make him abandon every attempt to carry out -his infamous bargain with Neville, was to place her beyond his reach -altogether, and not even to let him know where she was. - -She listened for a moment in silence, with her eyes bent down, and -evidently full of thought, and then looked up in his face, with -something like a tear upon her eyelashes. "You have been so kind and -good," she said, in a faltering voice, "and have shewn yourself so -generous, that I scarcely ought to ask you any questions, but only, I -am afraid--that is to say, having no friend who has yet expressed a -willingness to receive me, I think people might judge it strange, if I -were to go anywhere with you alone--I mean, under your care--without -my own brother knowing it. But I see you are smiling--I have mistaken -you. But, oh, no! indeed I have not doubted you--I am sure, Sir Morley -Ernstein, you would not wrong me in any way;" and she gave him her -hand. - -"Not for the world," he replied. "I smiled at myself, Miss Barham--my -mind being fully occupied with my own plans for you. I forgot to tell -you one half of them, which ought to have been told you at first. My -friend, Mr. Hamilton's illness has embarrassed me; but there is an -excellent lady, an old friend of my mother's, to whom I intend to -apply for assistance, which I know she will give, for she is not a -little of an enthusiast herself in all that is good, and is ever eager -to help misfortune. I will apply to her, and to a young lady who is -now with her, an old friend of mine, and I feel perfectly certain--or -at least very certain--that they will not refuse to give me every sort -of aid in carrying my plans for you into execution. I will go to them -early to-morrow, and doubt not soon to bring you back good news from -them. But let us consider the worst, my dear Miss Barham: suppose I -were to find Lady Malcolm and Miss Carr either not disposed, or not -able to afford or ensure you a safe asylum, I still believe that it -would be absolutely necessary for you, at any risk, and whatever the -world may say, to quit this place, and separate yourself from your -brother for a time. There are occasions on which we must brave the -world's opinion, when we know that we are doing what is right, when -our purposes and views are high and pure, and when, by obeying the -cold dictates of society, we should incur still greater dangers, or -fall into real errors." - -Was the doctrine that he preached a perilous one? Perhaps it might be -so--at least, as far as human happiness is concerned; for the laws and -customs of the world are exactly like the military code of Great -Britain, which strictly forbids a man to fight a duel, and disgraces -him if he refuses. - -Helen Barham again looked up in his face, and replied, at once--"I -will do anything that you please. Tell me what I ought to do! I am -sure, as I said before, you will not tell me wrong; and I am sure, -also, that when I am away, however criminal you may think him, you -will do the best for my poor brother William." - -Morley gave her every assurance. There was much, however, to be -thought of--much to be spoken of, between them; and he remained nearly -two hours longer with her, in that sort of conversation which, of all -others, perhaps was the most dangerous--dangerous, indeed, to her, -poor girl! They had to speak of all the subjects most interesting to -her--of everything which touched her heart, or her feelings, which -awoke memories of the past, hopes of the future, which aroused dreams, -expectations, wishes, sensations, many of them still living, many of -them gone, and sounding upon the ear of memory like a death-bell in -the midst of the night. She had to talk of all these things with a -man, young, handsome, graceful, captivating, full of varied powers and -rich imagination--her only friend, her preserver, her benefactor. -Alas! for poor Helen Barham! - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - - -Such as we have described in the last chapter, had been Morley -Ernstein's interview with Helen Barham, on the night preceding his -early visit to Lady Malcolm. When that worthy lady herself returned, -and entered the room where Morley and Juliet Carr were seated, she -might well assure him that she was delighted to see him; for she was -truly delighted to see him there, in that exact spot, seated by -Juliet's side; and yet had she known that he was there, she certainly -would not have seen him at all, for she would not have come home for -an hour. Lady Malcolm loved Juliet Carr sincerely; she loved Morley -Ernstein, too, with affection that had been going on and increasing -from his childhood. She thought it the most natural thing in the world -that they should love each other, and she was quite sure, to see them -wed each other, would very greatly contribute to her own happiness. -Whenever circumstances were in such a predicament, Lady Malcolm, who, -in these respects, was the wisest as well as the kindest woman in the -world, made a point of getting out of the way of the lovers as fast -and as far as possible, but, in the present instance, she discovered -her young friend's visit too late. - -Morley's story was quickly told, and Lady Malcolm soon became deeply -interested in the fate of Helen Barham. She had lived long enough in -the world to comprehend, at a word, the views of Neville, and the sort -of danger from which Morley sought to screen the fair being he had -befriended. To say sooth, on the mind of Lady Malcolm, the newspaper -account of the duel had in some degree produced the effect which -Morley had expected it would produce on every one. The bold and candid -way, however, in which he now told who the lady was, and how the duel -had arisen, not only removed all suspicions from Lady Malcolm's -thoughts, but prevented anything like apprehension of Morley's being -seriously attached to any one else than Juliet Carr; which--to -acknowledge a sad truth--would have been more painful to her, than if -her young friend had really been engaged in some passing intrigue; for -Lady Malcolm was one of those who, from seeing a great deal of the -dissipated society of a court and a metropolis, believed that every -young man must and would commit a certain portion of vices and -follies; forgetting that those vices and follies, though we may turn -from them at an after period and learn to do better, leave behind -them stains of two kinds--stains upon our happiness and upon our -candour--not only regrets, but suspicions--not only the memory of evil -acts, but the knowledge of wickedness and of crime. The tree of which -man rebelliously ate in the garden of Eden, was called the Tree of the -Knowledge of Good and Evil. Had our unhappy first parent paused to -consider, he would have known that he possessed already the knowledge -of good, and that the prohibition of God referred, in fact, to the -tasting of that which could give him the knowledge of evil. He did -eat, and the stain of that fruit came upon his soul; and so is it with -every child of man; we cannot know evil without a spot remaining on -our hearts for ever. - -However, such was Lady Malcolm's code, in respect to the licence -allowed to men, and such, alas! is the code of many another excellent -woman. She was glad, indeed, to find that it was not the case with -Morley Ernstein; but she was still more glad to find, as I have said, -that the cause of the duel was no serious attachment on the part of -Morley Ernstein to any other lady than Juliet Carr, and she now most -willingly entered into all his views with the zealous benevolence and -kind feeling, which she displayed in all cases, even when her judgment -was not so much in the right as it was in the present instance. - -"I will go and see her immediately, my dear Morley," she said; "and I -and Juliet will settle the whole affair with her in five minutes. As -you say, it would be very improper for you to take her into the -country yourself. Why what would the people say, Juliet?--And then he -might fall in love with her, you know," she added, laughing. - -But Morley answered at once--"There is no fear of that, my dear Lady -Malcolm. I have a buckler against all such dangers. A shield that was -given me accidentally on the very day after I came of age--under my -own park wall too," he added, turning towards Juliet Carr. - -But her eyes were bent down upon the back of a book which she was -examining attentively, and she only raised them when Lady Malcolm -asked--"Well, Juliet, wont you come upon this good errand? Though I -don't know, I am sure, where we can place her for the time. Must it -absolutely be in the country, Morley? Why could it not be here? She -could have a bed in the little room next to yours, Juliet; and be -quite as well as in the country." - -"For a day or two," replied Juliet, to whom she looked as if for -approval of her plan; "but I think not for long, my dear cousin. -The object is, you see, to remove her from her brother. Now as long as -she remained entirely in the house, that object would be attained -here, but the first time she went out she might meet him; and one -could not keep the poor girl a close prisoner.--I will write to my -father," she continued; "there are many rooms in our house that are -never used at all." - -"Oh, my dear Juliet!--write to your father!" exclaimed Lady Malcolm, -with some warmth--"write to your father! You know him as well as I do, -and that he would not give you board and lodging yourself, if you did -not pay him." - -Juliet coloured painfully; and Lady Malcolm, perceiving that she had -hurt her, said--"Forgive me, dear Juliet, I did not mean to grieve -you." - -"You do not quite know my father," said Juliet Carr, gently; "but I -think I can arrange the matter with him so that he will willingly -receive Miss Barham for a month or two." - -Lady Malcolm looked at her, divining what she intended to do, and -said--"You are a good girl, Juliet; but you must not be a hypocrite -with me. Write to your father, and if you find any difficulty, let me -know. We can easily manage the matter together then. The season is now -at an end, or nearly so; I must go out of London very soon, and I can -take you both with me. Nay, do not shake your head, I am very poor I -know, but you shall bear half the expense, heiress!" - -"And pray, what share am Ito bear in this business?" said Morley, -laughing. "You forget, my dear Lady Malcolm, that all I desired, and -all I can consent to, is, that you and Miss Carr should kindly shield -the reputation of the whole party, by giving that protection to this -poor young lady, which I, as a man and a young man, should not be -permitted to do by this good meddling world. I must insist, that -whatever expense is incurred in the matter, may fall upon me. I know -already," he added, "how many claims there are upon this sweet lady's -bounty. I have heard of all her good doings round Yelverly." - -"Very little are they, indeed," said Juliet, with a sigh: "I wish I -could do more. Still I have enough to bear my part in this kind act -which you have devised for us, and dear Lady Malcolm will not be -satisfied without doing something, too; so you must be content, -Morley, with your fair third--and now I will go and get ready to -accompany you at once," she added, speaking to Lady Malcolm. - -As soon as Juliet was gone, and after a note had been despatched to -Helen Barham, at Morley's suggestion, to make her aware of the -intended visit, a fit of prudence suddenly seized upon Lady Malcolm, -which threatened to be very severe, as, to say sooth, such fits were -few and far between. Morley knew how to quiet the awakened demon, -however, and when Lady Malcolm asked him anxiously--"Now, are you -quite sure, Morley, that this girl has nothing of the impostor about -her, that she is quite the sort of person she ought to be?" - -"Perfectly certain, upon my honour," replied Morley. "Put your mind -perfectly at ease, my dear Lady Malcolm, I have not been deceived, -depend upon it." - -"You are very young in the world, Morley," said the good lady, still a -little doubtfully; "and, remember, I am going to take Juliet with me." - -"You may, with all safety," answered Morley Ernstein. "Indeed, dear -Lady Malcolm, I wish you would, for many reasons; and, believe me, -neither you yourself, nor her very best and dearest friends, could -have such a tender regard for Juliet Carr's reputation and conduct as -I have." - -"Oh, indeed!" exclaimed Lady Malcolm, with a look of satisfaction; "if -that be the case, then I am perfectly content. But you must have made -quick progress, Morley!" - -Morley saw that the good lady had put a much wider construction upon -his words than he intended, and not knowing how far her view of the -matter might spread ere long, he thought it better to limit her -imagination to the truth at once, although he certainly had no -inclination to make a confidant of his love, while it was yet so new. - -"Now, do not, my dear Lady Malcolm," he said, taking that tone of -affectionate playfulness which he often assumed towards his mother's -friend. "Now, do not tell all the world that I am Juliet Carr's -accepted lover, for such, I can assure you, is not the case, and you -may break many a heart for nothing. I do not even yet know that she is -not engaged to some other man." - -There was a sort of cloud came over Morley's brow as he spoke the last -words, which gave Lady Malcolm an insight into what was passing in his -heart, and that advantage over him which such an insight always -affords to woman in her dealings with man. - -"It would break your heart, Morley, would it not?" she asked, -laughing, "if such were really the case. Well, I should not -wonder--she must have plenty of lovers, and who can tell?--But never -mind! Go along, foolish boy! Were you never told when you were young -something about jesting with edged tools? Take my word for it, Morley, -it is fully as dangerous for a lover of one-and-twenty to venture a -joke in regard to his love, as for an infant to play with a -razor--especially when he speaks in the presence of a woman! You do -not at all believe that Juliet Carr is engaged, only you wish to be -made quite sure that she is not. I have a good mind to punish you for -your pride, by telling you nothing upon the subject. However, I always -spoiled you, and gave you too many sweetmeats when you were a boy; and -so I must divulge, I suppose, that I know she is not engaged--either -heart or hand. But that is not to say she will accept you, if you -propose to-morrow. Indeed, I do not think she will.--But here she -comes; so now you leave us, for we do not intend to take you with us -to see this pretty lady." - -Morley accordingly took his leave, and Lady Malcolm proceeded with -Juliet to the house of Helen Barham. They were on foot with a servant -behind them, for Lady Malcolm, as she had said, was not rich, and did -not keep a carriage. The position of the house, its distance from the -part of the world they were accustomed to frequent, and the appearance -of several streets which they passed through to arrive at it, caused -good Lady Malcolm's heart to sink a little; and, like a cowardly -child, who has determined rashly to brave the terrors of the -churchyard by night, she was almost tempted to turn and to run away -before she reached the place itself. The greater air of -respectability, however, which the street displayed when she did -arrive at it, and the neatness of the house to which she had been -directed, revived her very much; while Juliet, unconscious of all that -had been passing in her companion's mind, looked up to the windows, -somewhat tired with a long walk through the streets of London, and -congratulated herself upon having reached the place at length. - -The door was opened by the usual maid-servant, who seemed somewhat -surprised to see two ladies of such an appearance, and their names -being given, she ushered them up to the drawing-room. The note, which -Lady Malcolm had sent, was on the table when that lady entered; and -beside it, Helen Barham hastily laid down a newspaper. Her eyes were -looking wild and agitated, and they fixed upon the visitor with an -enquiring look, as if her coming, notwithstanding the note, was quite -unexpected. - -Juliet had delayed a moment in order to give Lady Malcolm, who had -lost some activity with years, time to climb the stairs, and before -the younger lady appeared, the kind-hearted widow had taken Helen by -the hand, and was saying a thousand gentle and tender things to her, -telling her how highly Sir Morley Ernstein had spoken of her, and what -an interest he had created for her, in the bosom of herself and Miss -Carr. - -Helen was very much agitated with emotions of many kinds, and during -the few minutes that followed, those emotions increased every instant. -She had just been reading, for the first time, the account of the duel -between Morley and Neville; and the danger he had run, the wound he -had suffered and had never mentioned to her, as well as the thought -that it was in her defence that he had fought, had created in her mind -a world of apprehension and gratitude, which was well nigh -overpowering her at the moment the door of the room opened. Then, -again, the kindness of Lady Malcolm, the benevolence of her demeanour -and her tone, all moved her in another manner, so that the tears were -in her eyes when Juliet entered. Helen suddenly turned her look from -Lady Malcolm to Juliet, and those two beautiful beings stood gazing -the one at the other, as if in surprise at each other's loveliness; -but--whether it was that Helen read her fate in the exquisite and -high-souled beauty of Juliet Carr, or whether it was that, agitation -after agitation, and one emotion upon another, was more than her -overwrought mind could bear, I cannot tell--she grew gradually paler -and paler, and then sank down upon the floor, her fair head falling -back upon the sofa behind her. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - - -All had gone well with Morley Ernstein's plans. Lady Malcolm and -Juliet Carr had remained with Helen Barham some time, had tended her -with care and kindness, and had entered into every arrangement with -her for the purpose of removing her speedily from the situation in -which she was placed. Each became interested in her almost as much as -Morley himself, for there was in her that quality which does more to -prepossess than even beauty itself, and which may be called -engagingness. She remained very sad indeed, during the whole of the -conversation with those two ladies; but that sadness seemed to them so -natural under the circumstances, that it produced no surprise, and -excited no suspicion, as to what might perhaps be the real cause -thereof. It was settled that she was to come to Lady Malcolm's house -the next day, and to remain there till Juliet received an answer from -her father, or till Lady Malcolm herself could execute her scheme of -quitting London for a short period. - -Thus, then, as I have said, Morley's plans were proceeding as -prosperously as could be; but, alas! how often, and how sadly does it -happen, that the shoals and rocks of disaster lie close to the port of -success! It is strange to see how very, very frequently, at the very -moment that all seems sure to the eye of human calculation, the will -of God disappoints man's expectations, and the voice of fate -proclaims--"It shall not be!" Wisely and excellently, we know, it must -be so ordained; and human presumption certainly requires such checks, -however painful they may be. - -Morley Ernstein had heard from Lady Malcolm all that had been done; -and a sort of feeling, which he could not very well define, prevented -him from going to see Helen Barham that day. We, however, may well -enquire, though he would not, what was the nature of his sensations. -Was it that her society, with the constant consideration of sorrows, -and painful circumstances, was becoming at all wearisome to him? Not -at all. It might have been so with some men, with those who are -volatile as well as eager, the straw-fire of whose enthusiasm is -quenched as soon as lighted. But such was not the case with Morley -Ernstein. He was, as we have seen, often struggled for by two spirits, -but both spirits were powerful and resolute, and their action was to -give energy and perseverance to all he undertook. - -Was it that he himself, notwithstanding his love for Juliet -Carr--love, which was every moment becoming more ardent and -passionate--felt in the society of Helen Barham a charm that he would -not indulge in?--that there was a pleasure in soothing and consoling -her, a degree of excitement in sitting beside her, talking with her -over all her inmost feelings, dwelling with her upon the past, -consulting with her upon the future--a sentimental luxury, if we may -so call it, in the very tenderness of his compassion which he knew to -be dangerous, if not wrong? - -Perhaps it was so. There was a vague impression upon his mind that it -was something like wronging Juliet Carr to give so much of his -tenderness to another; and the higher spirit having then the power, he -resisted his inclination, and did not go. But that fact itself made -him listless. - -Morley remained in his own room, writing and reading, and had not been -out since he left Lady Malcolm, when a note was brought up in -Lieberg's handwriting. It was to the following effect:--"My dear -Ernstein,--If you dine at home, will you let me share your dinner, for -I have something of importance to say to you." Morley instantly wrote -to beg him to come; and a few hours after, he and Lieberg were seated -together at the social meal, waiting till the servants had taken their -departure ere they approached the business which the visitor had to -speak upon. - -"This trout is excellent," said Lieberg; "your host shows his taste, -Morley, in giving you trout instead of sea-fish at this season of the -year. Sea-fish is intolerable at Midsummer, and especially as you -English people dress yours. Who could endure the thought of frying and -grease; or even of boiled fish and lobster sauce, cayenne pepper, and -anchovy, and all the concatenation of horrors which follow the -invariable dish of fish, at an ordinary English table? Trout or smelts -are the only things tolerable at this season of the year. I must have -had a presentiment that you would have trout to-day, when I invited -myself to dine with you. Do you give in to the doctrine of -presentiments, Morley?" - -"All men, I suppose, have a vague superstition of the kind in regard -to great events; but I do not think, Lieberg, that supernatural -warnings would be wasted upon a dish of trout." - -"I don't see why," replied Lieberg. "These little things are great to -little men; and if, as I believe, the whole universe around us swarms -with kindred spirits, only separated from us by the thin partition of -our mortal clay, interesting themselves in our happiness, and giving -us intimation of things that affect our present state, I do not see -why one of these same aërial brethren of ours should not tap at the -wainscot to tell me that there is a dish of trout, or any other little -pleasant sin, awaiting me at the house of my friend." - -Morley smiled in spite of himself; for the knowledge that Lieberg had -come to speak to him upon some important business, and the fact of -being obliged to wait till after dinner to know what that business -was, oppressed his eager spirit, and occupied his thoughts too much -for him to relish any ordinary conversation. "I should not think," he -replied, "that they would take the trouble of knocking at all, except -upon great occasions." - -"True," replied Lieberg. "But men's estimation of what are great -occasions is various. Some may think death itself but a light thing, -and a bad dinner a very serious one. I do not know that I am not of -that opinion myself. I certainly know one thing--that I would rather -die a thousand times, than live on, forty or fifty years, gorging fat -pork every day, as I have seen your peasantry in Hampshire." - -Adam Gray, who stood behind his master's chair, and the waiter, who -was taking away Lieberg's plate, were both on the broad grin; but he -went on, with the same grave face, treating habitually the servants -who were in the room exactly as if they had no being for him, except -in so far as the moving about of various objects in the room was -concerned. - -"But tell me, Ernstein," he said, "now that we are talking -metaphysically, are you not a predestinarian?--but, indeed, I am sure -you are." - -"In truth, my dear Lieberg," replied Morley, "I think we know very -little of the matter. I believe in God's overruling providence. I -believe in his foreknowledge of all that must take place. I believe -that it is by his will or permission that it does take place; but -still I believe in man's responsibility for his own actions, and in -his perfect freedom to choose between good and evil!" - -"And in that of spirits, too?" demanded Lieberg, gravely. - -"Really, I have never considered the matter, with reference to such -personages as that," replied Morley, with a laugh. "I think it better -to mind my own business, and not to pry into their affairs. But -really, Lieberg, your mixture of moral philosophy and roast lamb, -metaphysics and mint sauce, is too German for my English -understanding." - -Lieberg in turn laughed, saying--"It is not very usual table-talk, I -confess, but it was suggested to me by the subject that brought me -here to-day. One part of my creed is, that persons who are destined to -affect each other's fate, are generally brought together by a power -manifestly superior to their own will, and that--struggle against it -as much as we please--the overruling hand which is upon us links in -act with act, life with life, and circumstance with circumstance, in -such a manner as to connect two persons together in particular events -by means the most unlikely." - -"Well!" exclaimed Morley, eagerly, and with his curiosity greatly -excited--"well, Lieberg, what then? How does this bear upon the -matter?" - -"Why, I think, my dear Morley," replied Lieberg, "that you and I seem -destined by fate, though, perhaps, not by disposition, to act -together. Our first acquaintance was strange. The singular accident -that happened to you; the danger that you ran; the fit of sickness -that followed; my having a week or ten days to spare, for the purpose -of nursing you;--all gave a marked commencement to our intimacy; and -now, many other things are combining to compel us, whether we will or -not, to co-operate in matters of some moment." - -"Indeed!" said Morley. "Can you not tell we in what respect?" - -"Not just at present," replied Lieberg. "But, to look once more to the -past, I can recollect various curious circumstances which brought -about our first meeting in the coach, and without which it could not -have taken place. It hung upon the balance of a straw, whether I -should go back to Germany in the end of April last, or whether I -should go to the south of France, when, meeting a young fisherman -accidentally at dinner, I was captivated by his account of fly-fishing -in the north, and went to bestow my idleness there. Then, again, I had -actually taken my place in the coach from York to London for the -preceding day; but a packet of letters which I expected, was delayed -for two or three hours, by some accident happening to the mail, and I -lost my place and my money rather than come away without them: -otherwise we should, in all probability, never have met." - -Morley paused, and pondered over the past. He, too, recollected the -accidental circumstances which had prevented him from taking post -horses and coming to town in his own carriage, and he could not help -acknowledging that there was something strange in the whole affair. - -There was something strange--there is something strange in every mesh -of the fine network of fate, for the eye of him who examines it -curiously; and every part of every man's history, if he could trace -the connexion with other parts, would present points as curious and -interesting as those to which Morley's attention was now called. He -did not reply, however, directly to Lieberg's observations, and both -falling into a reverie for a few minutes, went on towards the -conclusion of their dinner very perseveringly. At length the dishes -were taken away, the wine set upon the table, and the room cleared. No -sooner was this done, than Morley burst forth impetuously--"Now, -Lieberg--now, what is it? I am anxious to hear." - -Lieberg smiled, replying--"I see you are, Morley, and I will not keep -you in suspense a moment longer.--I did not know that this man had -such good claret--this is real La Tour.--Well, you recollect the story -you told me about your quarrel with Neville, and the wild young scamp -you wanted to save from what old ladies call 'his evil courses,' and -his pretty sister, and the whole of that business?" - -"Yes," replied Morley, impatiently, "I recollect very well. What of -that?" - -"Why, simply this," replied Lieberg--"I find that there is floating -about London a note, or draft or bill of exchange, or something of -that kind, for five hundred pounds, purporting to be from my hand. Now -it so happens, that being tolerably well to do in this world of -ours--that is to say, having perhaps a thousand a year more than my -habits or wishes require--I never gave such a thing to any man on earth; -and having received intimation of the fact, I caused inquiries to be -quietly made, as to the person who had taken this unpleasant liberty -with my name. I have obtained pretty good information upon the -subject, and I find that there is little or no doubt that the forger -is no other than your friend and protégé, William Barham." - -Few things on earth could have been more painful to Morley Ernstein at -that moment than to find that full information regarding the crime and -the criminal had reached Lieberg's ears from any other lips than his -own. I have already shown the nature of his apprehensions in respect -to his friend's future conduct; but his mind was too candid and -straightforward to shuffle or palter with the open facts in any way, -and he replied, after a very brief pause given to thought, "I am -afraid what you have heard is quite true, Lieberg. I had intimation of -the fact likewise, and intended to speak with you about it to-morrow. -I trust and hope that you will not think of proceeding against this -young man, and all I can say is, that I am quite willing to pay the -money myself, if you will consent to receive the bill without -disowning the signature." - -Lieberg laughed. "Oh!" replied he, "you value the young lady's smiles -at five hundred pounds, do you, Morley? Well, if such be your -arrangements, I will do whatever I can." - -Morley paused, and there was a strong struggle in his mind. He knew -what Lieberg suspected; and he believed that a strange view of honour, -not uncommon in the world, would both prevent his friend from -interfering in any way, if he thought that Helen Barham was likely to -become connected with him by the ties of illicit love, and would make -him consent to receive and pay the forged bill, and, in fact, enter -into all those arrangements most to be desired for her very benefit. -He was strongly tempted, it must be acknowledged, to suffer Lieberg to -remain in the belief which he evidently entertained. But the idea of a -falsehood, even implied, was so repugnant to his principles, that he -would not admit it into any part of his conduct. - -"You are mistaken, Lieberg," he said, at length. "I still tell you, as -I told you before, that I have no such purposes towards Miss Barham as -you suppose. I wish to spare her the agony of seeing her brother die -upon the gallows. I wish to save the unfortunate lad himself, who is a -mere boy, and has been misled by others. But I tell you fairly, I have -no intention whatsoever of even attempting to injure this poor girl in -the way you mean, nor do I think there would be the least chance of -success, even if I were to try. She is a girl of good principles, of -firm character, and seems to have monopolized the whole of the high -feelings which Nature intended for her brother and herself." - -"You will certainly not succeed," answered Lieberg, in a calm and -reasoning tone, "if you leave her any hope of your marrying her. If -her brother were hanged, or transported, or anything of that kind, the -disgrace would so strongly forbid the bans, that she would lose the -expectation, and yield to your views very readily, depend upon it. -Indeed, seriously, I think that it would be far the best arrangement -for all parties. The youth would only have one light swing between -heaven and earth, very soon over, which would relieve him from a -multitude of cares. The young lady would be placed under the -protection of a gentleman and a man of honour, one who has generously -befriended her, who would treat her well and tenderly, and provide for -her when it was necessary for them to part; instead--as will most -certainly happen, if you do not take her--instead of her falling into -the power of some other man, who may be a rascal and a scoundrel, who -may ill-treat and abuse her even while they live together, and abandon -her to the public streets when he is tired. You will place yourself in -the situation that nine young men of fortune out of ten are placed in, -with only this difference, that instead of an opera dancer, a chorus -singer, a stage soubrette, or any other mercenary woman, you will have -a companion really attached to you, and influenced by gratitude and -affection." - -"Do you know, Lieberg," exclaimed Morley, "that I have scarcely -patience to sit and listen to you! I tell you that I have no such -intentions as you suppose. I tell you that I shall never dream of -entertaining them; and that whatever may happen to the young man, Mr. -Hamilton, myself, and two or three other people, whom I have engaged -or will engage in the business, will take ample care that no -temptation--at least in the shape of poverty and exposure--shall ever -be thrown in Miss Barham's way, either to become the mistress of an -unprincipled scoundrel, or be thrown upon the public streets. Pray -speak to me no more upon such a subject, or, on my honour, I shall -think you the Devil himself." - -Lieberg burst into a fit of laughter. "Well, Morley," he said, "if you -will not take the opportunity that offers, I cannot help it; but, -really, the chances in my own favour are now so great, that I, who -have not such powers of resisting temptation as you have, must yield a -little." - -"Lieberg!" exclaimed Morley, starting up, and laying his hand upon his -arm, "you promised me--" - -"Ay," replied Lieberg, "but our position is very much changed now. I -have now become a party interested, without seeking it." - -"And will you," exclaimed Morley Ernstein--"and will you really -follow the base example of that man Neville, and trade with the -brother's blood, for the purpose of taking the sister's honour?" - -"Sir!" exclaimed Lieberg, raising his head, and gazing at him for a -moment, with his dark eye flashing fiercely. But the next instant he -recovered himself; his brow lost its frown, his eye its fire, and he -replied, "No, Morley, no. Put that on one side altogether, and rest -satisfied that, as far as depends upon me, her brother does not die. I -do not intend to trade with her fears, whatever I may do with her -gratitude." - -"Then you assure me he shall be saved," said Morley. - -"Nay," answered Lieberg, "I cannot promise that." - -"Why not?" demanded his friend. "I am sure, Lieberg, you will not act -ungenerously by him. Be generous at once, and let it not be said that -you did a noble and kind act by halves. Save the youth, even though he -be criminal, and aid me also in placing him in such a situation as to -remove him from temptation to commit such acts again. Leave this poor -girl to those who will do all that is possible to raise her rather -than to sink her, to soften her present fate, and make her forget the -many sorrows that have already befallen her. Indeed, indeed, Lieberg, -she has suffered bitterly in heart and spirit, and cruel would that -man be who would open before her a path, beginning in sin, going on in -self-reproach, and ending in disappointed affection and unavailing -remorse. - -"Well," answered Lieberg, after a moment's thought, "I promise you, -firmly and fully, as far as it is possible for me, to save this young -man. In regard to my further conduct in the business, I will make no -promises of any kind. I will be guided by circumstances, and no one -has a right to demand anything further of me. I confess I have become -interested in the girl from your account of her, and I shall certainly -like to see her; but you mistake me if you suppose that I am -deliberately planning the seduction of a woman I have never beheld. -Besides, I take it for granted, from all you have said, that she is as -much in love with you as you seem to be with her, otherwise I think -she must be a very hard-hearted sort of person. If she be in love with -you, she is, of course, not likely to fall in love with me, and the -matter will, doubtless, end as it has begun. So set your mind at ease, -for she has three strong safeguards. If I find that she loves you, I -shall stop short, for I never rival my friend; if I find that she is -coy, I shall stop short, for I love not maids that are long a wooing: -and if I find that she is in no way coy, perhaps I may not love her -the better either. So rest satisfied, my young Don Quixote." - -Morley, however, was not satisfied, and he determined to hasten by -every means in his power the arrangements which would place Helen -Barham at a distance from a more dangerous pursuer than Neville. On -another point, too, he was not satisfied--namely, with regard to the -conditional sort of manner in which Lieberg spoke of saving William -Barham. He did not see why the promise should not be positive, and he -said, after thinking over all that had passed for a moment, - -"You mistake, Lieberg, in regard to my being the least in love with -Miss Barham; depend upon it, if I were, I should take a different tone -with any one who spoke lightly of her. I am not the least in love with -her, and never shall be. But, putting that aside, let me ask why you -speak of saving William Barham conditionally; of doing what you can; -of doing all that depends upon you? Why cannot you certainly save him, -by destroying at once the forged draft, or whatever it may be, if I am -willing to pay the money?" - -"The latter part will be an easy business," replied Lieberg, "for I am -not very penurious, myself, Morley; and, though it is entirely at your -intercession I do it, yet, if I am able to save him, nobody pays the -money but myself. Why I speak conditionally is, simply because, in -this business, I have not the absolute disposal of the young man's -fate. Other people know the facts besides myself. My banker, when the -bill is presented, will see that it is not my handwriting directly. -Several of the officers of Bow-street are already aware of the -business. There is such a thing as compromising felony; I have heard, -in your law, and I can only do for him that which will not bring me -under the arm of Justice myself. Let me warn you also to be careful, -Morley, for we may get ourselves into difficulties, from which we -shall not easily be extricated." - -Morley mused, embarrassed; he had never thought of the circumstances -that Lieberg brought at once before his view, and all he replied, for -several minutes, was, - -"The fact of the officers being aware of this has, I suppose, -prevented him twice from coming when he promised. He has called here -more than once at my request; but never at the hour stated." - -"He is afraid of being taken in a trap," said Lieberg; and then -falling into thought again, he suffered Morley to pursue his -meditations uninterrupted. At length, however, he held out his hand to -his young friend, saying, "Come, Ernstein, let us act together, we -have had a little spar, but we will be friends again. You fancy me a -much greater _roué_ than I am, simply because I am charitable towards -all human failings, and because I advised you to do what I judged the -best for you--what I thought, and do still think, would be no great -harm to any one. For my own part, I am a very moderate man in my -views, I can assure you--a quiet, calm, sober, steady person, who, -upon principle, never do anything _éclatant_, except when people drive -me to it by trying to pull me back. Let us consider, then, what can be -best done for this young man." - -Morley shook his hand warmly, saying, "I believe, Lieberg, you have -the vice of making yourself appear much worse than you really are; and -I do not always feel sure whether you are not jesting with me, in -advocating things that I never see you plunge into yourself." - -"There may be a little joke in the matter," said Lieberg, "for depend -upon it, Morley, men who have seen a great deal of the world, and have -got the ferocity of their virtue softened down, feel a little inclined -to sport with those who come upon them full of the sweets of -innocence, and thinking every peccadillo a mountain of iniquity. But -now, as I have said, let us consult what may best be done to save this -youth from the gallows which he so well merits." - -The consultation between them was long, and at length it was -determined, that Lieberg should use every means to get hold of the -forged document; that he should pay it, if presented, without -hesitation; that, if possible, William Barham should be brought to -confer with the two friends; that the spurious bill should be shewn to -him, and that it should be made a sine qua non of his being forgiven, -to go out immediately to the East or West Indies, where some situation -was to be found for him. Pains were also to be taken to stop all -inquiries on the part of the police, and Lieberg joined so heartily in -every part of the scheme, that he left Morley with the charm of his -influence fully re-established, and the mind of his young companion -convinced that he had done him some wrong in the suspicions he had -entertained. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - - -What was it carried Morley Ernstein to the door of Helen Barham's -house at so early an hour on the following day? Was it that his -resolution had given way, and that the attraction which was about her -had prevailed, notwithstanding all the considerations which had -restrained him on the preceding day? If the angels are permitted to -look into men's hearts, and see with their eyes of light, the motives, -as well as the actions to which they lead, it must always afford a -curious and sometimes an amusing, though very often a sad speculation -to the bright beings above us. - -So seldom does it happen, that man cannot find a valid excuse to his -own understanding for following his own inclinations, that it is not -to be wondered at that Morley Ernstein drew out of his conversation -with Lieberg on the preceding evening, a valid excuse for visiting -Helen Barham. I do not mean to say, indeed, that he was wrong; but one -thing is certain, his inclinations led him thither, as well as his -reason, and he was not sorry that a just motive impelled him to go. -Dear reader, it was very natural, and certainly not in the least -blamable; nor does it prove in the slightest degree that his affection -wavered from Juliet Carr. She was certainly a bright, a beautiful, and -an engaging creature, that he went to see; but to Morley Ernstein, she -was the creature of his compassion, of his benevolence, of his -tenderness. "We take a withering stick," says Sterne, "and plant it in -the ground, and then we water it, because we planted it." - -Such was the case with Morley Ernstein, and now he went to do one of -the most difficult things on earth; to guard Helen Barham against -Lieberg, and yet not to assail the character of his friend. As usual, -he was admitted at once, for Helen was now rarely out; but when he -entered the drawing-room, and saw her, he could not help thinking that -there was some difference in her manner towards him--at least it -appeared so at first. There was a timidity, a shrinkingness--if we may -use the expression--a faltering of the voice, a dropping of the eye, a -want of that frank and straightforward pouring forth of excited and -grateful feelings, which had hitherto characterized the whole -demeanour of Helen Barham towards himself. - -It puzzled Morley Ernstein; he could not understand the change. -Perhaps the reader can; at all events he will easily do so when he is -told, that Helen had been looking into her own heart, and enquiring -what were her feelings really towards the man who now stood before -her. Her emotion at the sight of Juliet Carr had first shewn her that -there were strange things in her own bosom, and she had passed a -sleepless night, thinking of but one subject on earth--Morley -Ernstein. - -She gave him her hand, however--a hand which was usually as cold as -the marble from which, to judge by the colour, it was formed; but that -hand was now burning with fiery heat, and the once rosy cheek had -become much paler. As Morley felt that feverish touch, and gazed on -her face, the cause of the difference in manner he had observed, -seemed at once to display itself. - -"You are ill, Miss Barham," he exclaimed with an eager and an anxious -look, that made Helen's heart beat fast, and her knees tremble under -her. "For Heaven's sake let me send for a physician." - -"Oh, no, no!" she exclaimed, "I am quite well, indeed." - -"Then what makes your hand burn so?" he demanded, still holding it in -his own, "and what makes you look so pale?" - -"I did not sleep very well last night," she said; "there had been a -good deal to agitate me during the day, and I lay awake thinking, -anxiously enough." - -"And of what were you thinking?" demanded Morley, leading her to a -sofa, and seating himself beside her. "Nay, you must tell me; for -perhaps I can relieve some of your anxiety." - -Helen hesitated, and he added, "Nay, you must tell me; you will not -surely refuse? - -"Refuse!" she exclaimed; "do you think I would refuse you anything, -after all you have done for me?" She paused for a moment, but then, -seeming to take a sudden resolution, she looked up, saying, "I was -thinking of you--I only heard yesterday of your having fought that -wretched man Neville, and risked your life on my account. I pondered -upon many things, but that was one of those I thought most of during -the night; and I asked myself, what would have become of me if you had -been killed?--I think I must have died." - -Morley felt that both Helen and himself were standing on dangerous -ground. He was half sorry that he had come at all; but, shutting his -eyes resolutely to all that he feared to see, he replied gravely, -though in the same kind tone he always used towards her, "I had not -forgotten, Miss Barham, the situation in which you were placed, and -that it might be aggravated by the very fact of an unexplained quarrel -having occurred in your house, between myself and another person; and -therefore, to guard against the worst, I wrote down my wishes to two -gentlemen who, I knew, would attend to them, and would take care that -you were shielded through life from everything like danger and -difficulty." - -"Oh, I know you are noble and good," she cried; "I know it, I know it -well:" and putting her hand over her eyes, she burst into tears. - -Morley soothed her, and feeling that it would be best to change the -subject as soon as possible, he said, "Where is your brother? I was in -hopes that by coming so early, I might find him here." - -Helen shook her head. "He has not been home all night," she replied; -"indeed, he very seldom is. Sometimes I do not see him for a week." - -Morley mused. "I came to tell you," he said at length, "that as far as -this business of the forgery is concerned, I think you may consider -him safe. I have seen the gentleman, Colonel Lieberg, whose name was -used, and he has promised me not to proceed against your brother at -all." - -"Oh, that is joyful indeed!" exclaimed Helen; "then all danger is -past, and I need not become a burden to Lady Malcolm, and Miss Carr." - -This was certainly quite the contrary effect to that which Morley -wished to produce, and he went on to explain to his fair companion, -that all Lieberg and himself could do might perhaps be ineffectual. He -assured her, at the same time, that he looked upon it as more -necessary than ever she should be removed from the neighbourhood and -influence of her brother, and from the house in which she then dwelt, -till such time as an appointment in one of the Colonies could be -procured for William Barham, or some means could be taken to get him -out of England, and separate him from his evil companions. - -Morley urged it upon her in various ways, and with so many arguments, -that she replied at length with a smile, though it was a sad one, "Are -you not sure that I will do anything you tell me? I should either be -very obstinate or very base, if, after all your generous kindness, I -did not follow your advice precisely. Lady Malcolm is to call for me -at one o'clock to-day, and I am quite ready to go. The only thing that -embarrasses me is, that I do not well know what to do with this house, -which my father had taken for a year. There are two or three months -still to run, and I do not like to deprive William of a home when he -chooses to have one. Yet Lady Malcolm says, I must bring the maid with -me, otherwise he will find out from her where I am." - -Morley undertook to arrange the whole of that business for her, to see -the landlord of the house, and to have some person put in to take care -of it, as soon as she was gone. He then rose to depart, though the -chief object of his coming had not been spoken of as yet; but when he -took her hand to wish her good bye, he said, "There is one thing that -I must ask you to promise me, and to keep your promise most strictly, -without asking me why." - -"You have but to name it," said Helen, looking up in his face timidly. - -"It is simply this," replied Morley; "and it will not be very -difficult to keep, I trust. Give me your word that, under no -circumstances whatsoever, you will mention where you are going to -before you leave this house for Lady Malcolm's, or even that you are -going away at all, till you are actually gone. I say, to no one, -meaning, not only to your own brother, but speaking generally, to no -one--not even to my dearest friend." - -He laid so strong an emphasis upon the last words as to make Helen -Barham give a little start, and gaze inquiringly in his face. But she. -replied, the next instant-- - -"I will mention it to no one upon earth. I see that you have some -strong reason for what you say, but I am quite contented to be -ignorant of it, till you think fit to tell me--though, perhaps, I may -not see you again for a long while." - -Morley understood that she did not venture to ask the question "When?" -and he replied, "I shall meet you this very night, I trust, for Lady -Malcolm has asked me to spend the evening there. Believe me, dear Miss -Barham, it will be the greatest satisfaction to me that I have ever -known, to see you there; for, under the protection of that excellent -lady, and with the acquaintance and friendship of Miss Carr, you may -set the frowns of fortune at defiance; and I trust that such sorrow--I -may say, such agony of mind, as you must have been suffering when I -saw you a few days ago, may have passed away for ever." - -He let go her hand as he spoke, and turned towards the door, while -Helen Barham, with her eyes gazing upon the ground, stood murmuring to -herself--"And in those few days you have done all this!" - -When he was gone, she pressed her hand tightly upon her brow for -several minutes, and then saying--"I must not think of it, I will not -think of it; it is foolish--it is mad--it is wrong!" she proceeded -hastily to occupy herself with other things; putting by all the -objects that she did not intend to take with her; locking up this -drawer and that; sometimes sitting down for a moment, and sketching -with her pencil some wild, fanciful head, upon a sheet of paper which -lay on the table, and then starting up again, to employ herself more -actively--struggling vehemently, in short, against feelings and -thoughts that called loudly for attention, in every pause of -occupation. She had been thus engaged for about an hour, and the clock -stood at a quarter to twelve, when there came the roll of wheels, and -a loud knock at the door. - -"There he is again!" exclaimed Helen, thinking it was the knock of -Morley's groom; "there he is again! How kind of him to come back!" - -The maid, however, was the first person who appeared, bearing a card -in her hand, upon which was written--"Lieutenant-Colonel, Count -Lieberg." The girl gave the ticket to her mistress, and informed her -that the gentleman whose name it bore was below, and begged the honour -of a few minutes' conversation with her. - -"Oh, let him come up!" exclaimed Helen, gladly, recollecting that the -name was that of Morley's friend, who had so generously agreed to -spare her brother--"shew him up directly;" and she waited with eager -expectation, well pleased to have an opportunity of thanking him for -his promised forbearance. - -I have before described Lieberg, but still I must pause for a moment -to notice the effect his appearance produced on the mind of Helen -Barham. He came up the stairs with a quick and easy step, his whole -dress being in the height, but not the excess, of fashion, his hat, -shining like glass, held in his hand, his glossy black hair waving -lightly over his high clear forehead, his fine eyes sparkling with -that peculiar fire and lustre which rendered them so different from -the eyes of any other being, and his lips bearing a mild and pleasant -smile, while his whole air and look was that of a high-finished and -graceful gentleman. There was not a feature, there was not a line, -there was not a movement, that Helen Barham could find fault with; and -yet, strange to say, when she beheld him, though prepared to be -pleased, and ready to admire; though full of gratitude, and with a -heart tenderly alive to kindness, an unaccountable shudder came over -her the moment that her eyes rested upon him. - -Is it that some faculty altogether independent of and finer than -reason itself, gives us instant intimation of the presence of a being -who purposes, or is destined to work us some grievous harm? Who is -there that has not felt antipathies, for which he could find no -motive, and against which he strove in vain, till at length something -has discovered that the being thus strangely disliked was exercising -some dark influence upon our fate and happiness? Helen Barham did not -strive to reason with her feelings; she resisted and overcame the -impression, as far, at least, as her outward demeanour was concerned; -and advancing, with the grace which she always displayed, she held out -her hand at once to Count Lieberg, saying--"Sir Morley Ernstein, sir, -has told me how nobly and kindly you are disposed to behave towards my -brother. I need not assure you that I am full of deep gratitude; and -most sincerely do I pray God to reward you as you deserve." - -A strange dark shade came over Lieberg's countenance, but he -replied at once, pressing Helen's hand gently, but not a moment too -long--"Morley has been beforehand with me, then? I thought I should -have been early enough to convey you intelligence which I was sure -would please you, myself. However, I must not be angry with him; for -the satisfaction of giving you happiness and relief might well lead -him to steal a march upon his friend. I have a little, however, still -to tell you myself, which he cannot know of, as I have only heard the -intelligence this morning. I think, beyond all doubt, that I shall be -able to obtain possession of the draft without suffering it to fall -into the hands of any of the myrmidons of justice. In that case, all -danger will be at an end." - -"But if not," said Helen, with her heart sinking at the idea of there -still being so much peril--"but if not, will his fate then be sealed?" - -Lieberg seemed to hesitate, and taking a seat near her, he looked down -upon the floor for a moment or two, apparently in deep thought, and -then replied--"It might be difficult to save him, if we cannot get -hold of the draft ourselves, and destroy it. One would need to bribe -the officers with some enormous sum; or else I should have to refuse -to give evidence, which might place me in a dangerous position myself. -But I trust that this will not be; I trust that, ere two days more are -over, I shall have the document in my own hands. So let us not think -of such unpleasant circumstances. You must have had, I fear, a sad -time of it lately, my poor young lady. Morley's account of you and -your fate has been enough to melt a heart of stone, and, I can assure -you, it interested me not a little; so that I trust not only to be -able to relieve your mind in regard to your brother, but to do -something more for your happiness hereafter, if you will permit me." - -"You are very kind, indeed," replied Helen; "but were this once off my -mind, I think, with the friends who have unexpectedly risen up around -me, I should have nothing to desire or wish for. My hours would have -been sad, indeed," she added, "if it had not been for the comfort and -consolation which have been given me by Sir Morley Ernstein." - -Lieberg smiled. "He is, indeed, very amiable," he said: and Helen -blushed, till her face and neck were all one crimson. The words that -Lieberg spoke were nothing, but it was the tone and meaning smile that -brought the bright blood up into her face. There was a slight touch of -indignation, however, in her feelings; and though her face still -glowed, she raised her head high, while she replied--"He is, indeed, -very amiable, and not alone amiable, but generous; ay, and good, too. -He is one of those who, I am sure, would never take an ungenerous -advantage of any one, not even to obtain that which he most desired in -life." - -"You are quite right," said Lieberg, seeing that the well of Helen's -feelings was all pure. "Morley's impulses are all generous and noble; -sometimes, perhaps, a little too generous for his own happiness, and -for those he wishes well to. There are occasions, my dear young lady, -when our own gratification is the means of gratifying another too, and -in those instances self-denial is unkind." - -Helen did not understand what he meant, for she was a high-hearted, -tender being, but by no means metaphysical; and Lieberg, seeing more -deeply into her character every moment, skilfully changed the -conversation to less dangerous ground, and, in the open field, where -she was less prepared to defend herself, he put forth all those -fascinating powers which he possessed, and which were far greater than -it would be easy to do justice to. Helen listened with pleasure, and -with some surprise, and to a certain point Lieberg succeeded, for he -excited a kind of admiration; but it was the admiration of the mind, -the heart had nothing to do with it; and even had the little citadel -of Helen's bosom not been fully garrisoned, as it was, Lieberg would -have made no progress that day in attempting to storm it. - -There seemed, however, to be a greater impression produced upon -himself than perhaps he had anticipated. Often, in the midst of his -brilliant conversation, he bent his eyes upon the ground for some -moments, and then raised them thoughtfully to Helen's face, gazing -upon her beauty, and seeming, as it were, to drink it in, but at the -same time with a grave and meditative air, which took from it all -offence. - -With an art peculiar to himself, he brought up subject after subject -the most unlikely to arise from the circumstances in which he and -Helen Barham were placed, and he listened to all her replies with a -look of interest, which was not without its flattery. He was -surprised, it is true, to find her mind so richly stored. He was -pleased and struck with much that she said, and his whole manner, as -well as his words, shewed that it was so, while, at the same time, he -never gave up--though he never presumed upon it--that position of -mental superiority which he was so well calculated to maintain against -almost all men, and which, when not painfully felt, has no slight -effect upon the hearts of women. They do not always love those they -most approve, but in general they love those whom they look up to, be -it in right or wrong. - -At length, however, as the hands of the clock approached the point of -half-past twelve, and his fair companion became somewhat penurious of -her replies, Lieberg, with quick perception, saw that his visit must -come to an end, or be tedious to her, and he knew there is nothing so -dangerous as to remain long enough to be wished away. - -"She is either going out to meet Morley, or she expects him here," he -thought, "and I had better take my leave at once. He will disappoint -her ere many days be over, and then it may be my task to console. Her -heart is not so far gone to him as I imagined.--I will now wish you -good-bye, Miss Barham," he said, rising, "but I hope you will not -exclude me for the future from society that, I assure you, I value -highly. You love music, I see, and I am passionately fond of it. You -like drawing too, if I may judge from that table. I am not without -some slight knowledge of that art, and I possess some of the finest -small pictures in Europe. I will not give up the hope of some day -shewing them to you. However, for the present we have other things to -think of; the first of which, of course, is your brother. I doubt not, -by this time to-morrow, I shall have good news to bear to you; I -suppose this is as good a time to find you as I could choose?" - -Helen was about to reply at once, that she would not be there on the -following day, and to inform him where he would find her; but the -promise she had made to Morley suddenly rushed to her mind. Then again -she thought, "But surely I may tell him! He has my brother's life in -his hands, and could never be meant----. But, no," she said to herself -again, "I have promised, and he shall never say that I swerved from -any promise to him, even in the least degree." - -The consideration of all this, and of what she should reply, together -with the consciousness that she was long ere she did answer, called -the colour into her cheek again, as she said, with an evasion that she -did not like to use, - -"I am very seldom, if ever, out." - -Lieberg saw that she was more moved than was natural, by the simple -question that he had asked; but he himself was too much impressed by -her beauty and grace to judge with his usual acuteness of what was -passing in her mind. When he got into his cabriolet, his thoughts were -full of Helen Barham. - -"Beautiful, indeed!" he muttered--"Beautiful, indeed! This boy is a -fool, with his advantages!" and driving on, busy with reveries of his -own, he well nigh killed two people at the corner of Oxford-street, -and grazed one of the posts with the wheel of his vehicle. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - - -The under-workings of the passions in the human heart, the movements -and the progress of that central fire in the world of each man's -breast--that fire which is never guessed at by the surface, except -from some slight and often unobserved indications, or from some -violent outburst, like the eruption of a volcano--the underworkings of -the passions, I say, are generally far more worthy of the -investigation of philosophy, if we would take the trouble, are far -more replete with the tragic and the sublime, than all the external -demonstrations to which we give so much attention. When sitting in the -midst of a social circle, and often when gay looks and light jests -abound, who is there shall say, what are the feelings really within -the very bosoms that are next to us--what the passions that are -gnawing the core of the hearts that seem all merriment?--the -cankerworm of envy--the sharp tooth of hatred--the bitter grinding -jaws of disappointment--the locusts of ill-requited love eating up all -the green things of hope? Alas! Alas! too often in the world in which -we live, if we could draw back the veil from the hearts of the most -cheerful scene, there would be much weeping amongst us for the sorrows -of others, or our own! - -The drawing-room of Lady Malcolm was a pleasant and a cheerful room; -and--though in the midst of London--she had contrived, by manifold -flowers and shrubs, frequently renewed, to give it a certain degree of -freshness, an air and a scent of the country, which were wonderfully -refreshing to the London-tired senses at the end of a long season. In -that drawing-room, with the windows open and the warm air of a -summer's night stealing through the half-closed blinds, sat the good -lady herself, together with Juliet Carr and Helen Barham, waiting for -the arrival of Morley Ernstein. He was the only person invited, for -Lady Malcolm not only wished Helen Barham to remain as quietly as -might be in her house, but she also wished Morley and Juliet Carr to -have as much of each other's society, uninterrupted, as possible. - -As far as all the external circumstances of life could go, nothing -could be happier for Helen Barham than the change which had occurred, -and the situation in which she was now placed. Good Lady Malcolm was -feeling and acting towards her as a mother. That worthy lady, after -embracing Morley's proposal, as eagerly as we have seen her do, had -for a little time been puzzled by the question of how she was to treat -the person whom she had promised to protect, but she had wisely put -off the consideration of it till she had seen Miss Barham with her own -eyes. When she did see her, however, all doubt upon the matter -vanished; the engaging charm which pervaded Helen's whole demeanour, -whether in sorrow or joy, gloom or gaiety, affected instantly so very -impressible a person as Lady Malcolm; and she had come away, declaring -to Juliet as soon as she got into the street, that Helen was the -sweetest creature she had ever seen in her life, and that she should -not wonder, if properly brought out, and introduced into good society, -were she to end by marrying a Duke. She consequently at once set Helen -on a par with herself and Juliet, and treated her as her own child -from the moment she entered her house, doing everything that motherly -tenderness could do to remove any little sensation of shyness and -dependence, and to make her perfectly at home and at ease in her new -abode. - -Juliet, though perhaps not quite so easily charmed as Lady Malcolm, -had not only felt the fascination of Helen Barham's demeanour very -strongly, but had been more deeply interested in her than Lady Malcolm -herself, entering into all her sensations--perhaps almost divining her -thoughts. On their very first interview she had watched her beauty -with a curious and attentive eye, even while occupied in recalling her -to herself after she had fainted; and when Helen recovered, Juliet -remained meditative, if not sad, for some time. There is nothing like -woman's heart for finding out woman's secrets, and Juliet--perhaps by -questioning herself as to what would have been her own feelings had -she been so situated with Morley Ernstein--in a great degree -discovered those of Helen Barham. - -When the conviction of what the poor girl's sentiments towards her -deliverer must be, flashed upon Juliet's mind, her sensations were -strange, and for a moment beyond all control. The first question she -asked herself was, "Does Morley love her after all?--Can he help -loving her--so beautiful, so interesting, so much to be pitied?" But -the next moment she recollected all she knew of his character, every -trait that she had remarked of his demeanour in regard to the very -matter with which her thoughts were busied; and, though she had at -first clasped her hand upon her heart to stop its insufferable -beating, she now took it away relieved, saying in her own mind--"'Tis -I whom he loves. Alas, poor Helen Barham!" - -For an instant, for a single instant, Juliet Carr had felt the pangs -of jealousy, but the moment after, when her feeling of security in -Morley's love returned, she reproached herself bitterly for the joy -she felt at that which must needs produce another's sorrow. The few -hours' calm reflection which intervened between their visit to the -fair object of their care, and her arrival at Lady Malcolm's house, -calmed down and quieted Juliet's feelings, and enabled her to play her -part towards Helen, when she did arrive, in the manner which might be -expected from her character. AS a sort of atonement for loving Morley -Ernstein, and being beloved by him, as well as from tenderness and -interest, and kindness towards Helen, no sister could have shewn her -more affectionate care and attention than were displayed by Juliet -Carr. She sat with her in the room which had been assigned to her near -her own; she aided her to arrange it with taste; she saw if anything -was wanting, and had it instantly supplied; she talked with her of -future prospects and bright hopes, and lavished on her all those -little acts of gentle attention, which removed every feeling of -strangeness, and made Helen feel that she had a friend upon whose -bosom she could cast herself in danger, or sorrow, or temptation if it -should come, and tell her all without fear or hesitation. - -That conviction was in itself a relief, a mighty relief to the poor -girl's heart; and though her mind still wandered to Morley Ernstein, -and thought dwelt, in spite of all her efforts, upon the connexion -between him and Juliet Carr, when she looked upon her lovely -companion, marked her transcendent beauty, listened to her melodious -voice, and experienced such tenderness and generous kindness, she -could not refrain, even in Juliet's presence, from looking down with a -sigh, and murmuring indistinctly with a melancholy movement of the -head, "No wonder that he loves her." - -The day passed over in this manner, but before night, Helen Barham was -quite familiar with the house and its inhabitants. Everything that -Lady Malcolm saw of her, led that lady to approve her conduct more and -more. Her manners were so graceful, her whole demeanour so -distinguished, that the good lady began to feel proud of her protégée, -and looking from Helen to Juliet, as she sat at dinner, she could not -help thinking, that seldom on the face of this earth, had two such -beautiful beings sat side by side. - -Helen was sad and thoughtful during the early part of the evening, but -in consideration of those with whom she dwelt, she struggled against -the gloom that oppressed her; sought her usual occupations, and -followed her ordinary pursuits. Thus while Lady Malcolm herself fell -quietly asleep over a purse that she was netting, and Juliet busied -her fingers with embroidery, Helen went on sketching with a masterly -hand, though with the carelessness of absent thoughts, a scene from -Milton's Paradise Lost, representing the contention of the archangel -and the fiend. - -Juliet talked to her from time to time, and then came round to view -her work. "Why, Helen!" she exclaimed, with the first impulse of -surprise, as she looked over her shoulder; "you have drawn a friend of -ours for the angel!" - -Helen looked up in her face with her large lustrous eyes, but made no -reply, and Juliet returned thoughtfully to her seat again. Helen added -several more strokes to the other figure, and then pushed it gently -across the table to her fair companion, saying, with a sad smile-- - -"You shall have it, for you are an angel too, I think. It is like him, -I believe--though I did not intend it." - -Juliet gazed for several minutes intently at the drawing, which was -beautifully, though slightly executed, and while she was still thus -employed, Sir Morley Ernstein was announced and entered the room. - -Lady Malcolm started up out of her sleep; and not a little emotion was -felt both by Helen Barham and Juliet Carr. Strange to say, however, -Juliet shewed it most. She, who had usually so much command over -herself, was now fluttered and agitated. It is true there were -sensations in her bosom towards Morley Ernstein, which produced a -thrill whenever she saw him; but in the most profound lakes the -gushing of the fountains is hidden by the depth of the waters; and -those feelings confined themselves to her heart, and did not at all -appear on the surface. In the present instance it was the presence of -Helen Barham that agitated her more than the coming of Morley -Ernstein. She sympathized with the poor girl deeply, and by a power, -which true benevolence really has, she placed herself in the situation -of her fair companion so completely, as to feel all that she felt -without losing the emotions natural to her own situation also. There -was always a great abnegation of self in the character of Juliet Carr, -and though she could not have sacrificed Morley's love for any -consideration, yet she did wish that he would now speak to Helen -first. - -But Morley did not do so, and would not have done so for the world, -even on Helen's own account. There had been something in her manner -that morning which he would not suffer his mind to rest upon, the -remembrance of which he had cast from him as an idle vanity, but -which, nevertheless, influenced his conduct, making him feel that it -would be better to mark at once his attachment to Juliet Carr as -strongly as possible. After speaking for a moment, then, with Lady -Malcolm, he turned to Juliet, and took her hand in his, with his face -beaming with all the affection that was in his heart. He called her by -her Christian name, too, as she had permitted him, and every look and -every tone was calculated to leave no doubt on the mind of any one, as -to what were his feelings towards her. - -Juliet was only the more agitated; but Helen was less so than might -have been expected. The marked conduct of Morley towards Juliet Carr -did her good. She had previously made up her mind, and read her fate, -and the only thing that could have shaken her greatly at that moment, -would have been the renewal of doubt and hope. Thus, when Morley -turned towards her, and spoke to her, as he had been accustomed to do, -kindly, gently, tenderly--ay, tenderly!--for a slight inclination, -which he detected in his own breast, to make his manner towards Helen -a little less warm than it had been when they were alone together, -caused him resolutely to resist such a feeling as dishonourable to -her, to Juliet, and to himself--when he spoke to her, then, kindly, -gently, and tenderly--as if, in short, he were a brother--she received -him, not without emotion, indeed, but with a much greater appearance -of calmness than she had previously hoped to obtain. - -Morley congratulated her upon her change of abode, and upon the -friendship of Lady Malcolm; for it was a part of his plan, and, -indeed, was only consistent with his impetuous character, to go -straightforward to every difficult or unpleasant point, and never to -be satisfied till all was said that it might be necessary to say. Many -people do great things by avoiding difficulties, but bolder minds love -the task of overcoming them. He spoke at once, therefore, of the -change which had taken place in Helen's situation, though he knew it -might awaken unpleasant thoughts, feeling that as much must be -referred to, and even discussed at different periods, concerning her -past and her future fate, it would be better to touch upon the subject -immediately, lest every hour of reserve should render it more -difficult. He then added, in a rather lower voice-- - -"I have seen your brother, my dear Miss Barham, and we are to meet -again to-morrow; when I hope all things will be settled to your -satisfaction. In the meantime, I need not ask if you are comfortable -and happy with these friends, for I know Lady Malcolm is all kindness, -especially where she meets with undeserved sorrow. I think, too," he -added, turning his eyes to Juliet, "that we might very well trust the -happiness of any one to Miss Carr's tenderness." - -"We have done what we could to soothe her, Morley," replied Juliet -Carr, "but it is not to be expected that Miss Barham should yet be -quite as cheerful as we will hope to see her. She can amuse herself, -however, even now, and at the same time gratify her friends--Look -here!" - -"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Helen, trying to prevent Juliet from shewing -the drawing; but ere she could stop her, it was in Morley's hand-- - -"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed, as soon as he had cast his eyes upon it, -"Why this is Lieberg!" - -"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Helen again, "I did not mean it for anybody. -Indeed, I never thought of what I was drawing!" - -"But this cannot have been by accident, surely," said Morley; "the -likeness is so striking. Did you ever see Count Lieberg, Miss Barham?" - -"I saw him this morning," replied Helen, at once. "He called upon -me--not long before Lady Malcolm came--to tell me, what you had told -me before regarding my brother." - -"And did he do anything to offend you?" asked Morley, looking at the -drawing with a smile, as he marked the character in which she had -depicted Lieberg. - -"Oh, no!" replied Helen, "nothing; on the contrary, he was as kind as -he could be; but I can assure you I meant nothing by that drawing, and -had not an idea that I was sketching any one, till Miss Carr remarked -one likeness; and now you have remarked another. If there be any, it -is purely accidental, though, perhaps, without thinking of it, one -naturally takes the features which one has lately seen, as I have -remarked after reading a book, the thoughts come back to us as if they -were our own. Will you give it to me," and taking it out of Morley's -hand, she added, speaking to Juliet--"You must let me tear it, and I -will draw you another.--You shall have the angel as before," she said, -with a sad smile, and an earnest look into Juliet's eyes, "but I must -change the face of the fiend; as it seems that I most unintentionally -took that of one who has shewn himself anything but unkind to me and -mine." - -"Tear it--tear it, Helen!" said Juliet "I am sure you did not mean to -give the portrait of any one in such a character." - -"On my word I did not," replied Helen, and then, after putting her -hand to her brow for an instant, she added--"Come, dear Miss Carr, to -make up for destroying the drawing I gave you, if Sir Morley Ernstein -will sit down on the sofa and talk to you, I will take his portrait. I -am sure you will be glad to have it, for you said you had known him -long. I can sketch very quickly, and I once thought of trying to make -my bread by portrait-painting. But I took fright at the thought of all -the people that might come to me, and gave up the idea." - -Juliet Carr blushed at the proposal, partly with feelings of pleasure, -but partly abashed; for the remembrance that Morley had not yet said -one word which could justify her, or any one, in looking upon his -attachment to her as certain, was still present to her mind. She -answered not, then, but Lady Malcolm replied for her, eagerly-- - -"Do--pray do, my dear child--and then you shall copy it for me." - -At the same time Morley took his seat upon the sofa by the side of -Juliet Carr; Lady Malcolm rang for tea; and Helen, while she pursued -her work, joined in the conversation, not only frequently, but gaily, -as if the object on which she was employed had given her back her -cheerfulness. Once, when Juliet was about to rise she exclaimed, -quickly-- - -"Sit still--pray sit still--he will not remain in the same attitude if -you move!" and, about ten minutes after, she beckoned to Lady Malcolm, -asking her, "Will that do?" - -"Oh, beautiful, beautiful!" exclaimed Lady Malcolm--"that is quite -perfect!" - -"Not yet," said Helen, and she added some touches more. - -Juliet became impatient to see the sketch likewise, and, starting up -playfully, she said--"I will be excluded no longer, Helen." - -When she came round, however, her cheek took the colour of a rose. It -was not alone Morley's portrait, but her own likewise, that Helen -Barham had drawn; and, with a skill that nothing but intense feeling -could have taught her, she had cast into the looks of both, as they -seemed gazing upon each other, that expression of deep affection which -she was but too sure was in their hearts. - -Morley followed Juliet to Helen's side, almost at once, and gazing -upon the picture, he first smiled with pleasure; but, the next -instant, a thoughtful expression came over his countenance, and he -looked down upon the beautiful head of Helen Barham--as she bent over -it, resting her cheek upon her hand--with sensations that it would be -difficult to describe. He asked himself hurriedly, what had been -really her feelings? and then he would not suffer his heart to answer -the question. He voluntarily suffered his ideas to remain confused; -but in their vagueness was mingled not only much apprehension, lest -there should be those things in the bosom of Helen which might affect -her after-peace, but pity for her in every way, and a certain portion, -if not of unmerited self-reproach, at least of regret, that it had not -been possible for him to protect and support her from the beginning, -through the medium of others. - -Helen, however, seemed pleased with her work, she forced herself to be -cheerful, and the evening passed over apparently brightly for all. The -conversation, which had been diverted, for the time, from the subject -of Count Lieberg's visit, returned to it ere long, and Helen -recapitulated, in her own artless manner, all that had passed. At -length she came to speak of his question in regard to calling upon her -the following day, and she added-- - -"I was quite sure that I might tell him I was coming hither--" - -Morley started, with a feeling of apprehension, but Helen instantly -added--"However, as you had told me I was not to mention the fact to -any one, I refrained, and merely said that I was seldom out, knowing -that you could inform him of what you thought fit, afterwards." - -"You did quite right, dear Miss Barham," replied Morley--"you did -perfectly right. I entreated you to tell no one, and if I had wished -any exception made, I would have said so." - -Both Helen and Juliet gazed at Morley with some surprise; but Lady -Malcolm instantly read a comment upon her young friend's reply, -saying--"He is too gay a personage, Helen--this Count Lieberg--to be a -very safe intimate for you. Not that I mean, my dear child, he would -or could do you any harm; nor do I know, indeed, of any harm that he -ever did do; but some men establish for themselves, by tolerating all -vices, and associating intimately with persons of dissolute habits, -the reputation of licentiousness, even when they do not deserve it. -Now, I never in all my life heard the least harm of this Count -Lieberg. I never saw his name in the papers, or anything of that kind; -but, at the same time, he is a great deal with people who are -notorious for dissipated habits, and consequently he is looked upon as -one of the same class, though, perhaps, the best of the class. -Nevertheless, Morley was quite right, Helen; there is no need at all -of his knowing where you are, and, to say the truth, I think it better -he should not." - -Morley said nothing, but he was not a little obliged to Lady Malcolm -for saving him the pain of an explanation; and, shortly after, he took -his leave, promising to return the following day, and let Helen know -what was the result of his second conference with her brother. - -As soon as he was gone, Helen rose to retire to her room. A slight -degree of paleness had come over her face, a look of exhaustion, which -Juliet remarked, and very well understood. She came round, then, to -where Helen stood, and putting her arm gently round her, she kissed -her cheek, saying, in a low voice--"I think, Helen, you are more of an -angel than any of us." - -Helen pressed her hand gently in hers; and though not a word more was -spoken on either part, each felt that she understood the other; and -Helen Barham, with swimming eyes, retired to her chamber, and wept -with very mingled feelings. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - - -The interview between Morley Ernstein and William Barham was to take -place at the hotel in Berkeley-square; and Morley had written to -Lieberg, giving him notice that the young man would be there, and -begging him, if possible, to meet him, as the draft was to be -presented on the ensuing day, so that no time ought to be lost. -Lieberg breakfasted an hour earlier than usual, but it was not with -the object of being in time for the proposed meeting, as mid-day was -the hour appointed; and as soon as he had done breakfast, he got into -his cabriolet to drive to the house of Helen Barham. - -When he reached the house, he got out and knocked himself, and his -keen and marking eye at once perceived that it was not Helen's -neat-looking maid who opened the door, but, on the contrary, a person -bearing the look, which is very peculiar, of people that are put in to -keep houses, which would otherwise be vacant. - -In reply to his demand for Miss Barham, the woman said, in a short, -quick tone--"She's not here, sir--she's gone." - -"Pray, where is she gone to?" demanded Lieberg, in a quiet tone, as if -the tidings did not surprise him in the least. - -"I can't tell, sir," answered the woman. "Two ladies called for her, -and took her away with them, but I don't know where, nor who they -were." - -"Ladies!" said Lieberg, with some emphasis; but the other replied -immediately, with a toss of her head--"Yes, ladies, every inch of -them; that I'll answer for; and so is she, too, poor thing, though she -is not so rich as some; but as for their being ladies, the servant -called his mistress 'My Lady' twice--that's all I know." - -"And pray, who put you in here, to take care of the house?" said -Lieberg. - -"Why, the landlord, to be sure," replied the woman; "and he bade me, -too, take great care of all Miss Barham's things, and to dust all -that's in the drawing-room every day." - -"So, then," said Lieberg, "Miss Barham has left some things behind -her?" - -"Oh, yes, a great many," replied the woman, who seemed not to be in -the most respondent humour in the world; "but really, sir, I cannot -stay answering questions all day. I have told you everything I know -about the young lady, and that is little enough." - -"It is so," replied Lieberg; and getting into his vehicle, without -farther comment, he drove away. - -As he was still a full hour and a half before his time, he sought for -occupation, and to all appearance gave not a second thought to Helen -Barham's place of residence. It was not so, however, in reality; and -as he drove away, he repeated twice--"This is Ernstein's doing!" But -he had now regained all that self-possession which Helen's beauty had -for a time disturbed; and when--after attending a sale of pictures and -bronzes, at Phillipps's Rooms, for about an hour--he proceeded to -visit Morley Ernstein, his look was as calm and cheerful, his manner -as unembarrassed and graceful, as ever. Not one word passed his lips -in regard to his visit of that morning to the house of Helen Barham, -though there was some meaning in the smile with which he shook hands -with Morley on their meeting. To the call he had made on the preceding -day, however, he referred at once, saying--"Well, Morley, I have seen -this fair object of your benevolence, and must confess that her -beauty, her grace, and her talent too, far exceed what I had expected. -I cannot help thinking you a great fool, begging your pardon for so -saying; but I suppose we shall never think alike upon these matters, -and I shall give up attempting to convert you to my doctrines, for -every man must seek happiness in his own way; and I do not see why a -man's prejudices should not be considered as a part of his property -which it is felony to rob him of, as well as anything else." - -"Why, Lieberg," replied Morley, "prejudices, I should think, would be -a sort of property of which, like paving-stones in a man's pocket, it -would be kind to free him as soon as possible. But I rather think the -dispute between you and me would be, as to which of my views are -prejudices--which are principles. I do not mean to claim any -outrageous morality, but in what I am doing now, I am quite sure I am -right." - -"I hope you are equally sure that you will be successful," replied -Lieberg; "for my part, I think I shall soon leave the matter in your -hands altogether, for I have some intention, ere the earth, and all it -bears about with it, be a month older, of setting out for the -Continent, and taking, what the people who travel and write books, -call 'an autumn tour,' somewhere." - -"Why, I thought," said Morley, "that you were going down to the house -of Lord Medway for the season?" - -"He invited me," answered Lieberg; "but I am not in a humour this -year, either for stalking after partridges through a turnip-field, or -for the beastly butchery of a battue. The last time I was at one, I -felt myself like the dog that the man shewed about London some time -ago--'Billy,' you know, that killed a hundred rats in a minute--and I -determined never to go to such barn-door slaughter again. But here -comes this good youth, I suppose," he added, seeing the door open; "do -not tell him at first. We may see some of the workings of the -passions, which is better sport than a battue." - -Morley thought that it was as cruel sport, too; but the waiter -announcing that a gentleman desired to speak with him, he directed him -to be shewn in, and the moment after William Barham, with his pale, -dissolute countenance, and his long light hair straggling as usual -over his face, entered the room, but stopped suddenly short, on -beholding Lieberg. - -"Good morning, Mr. Barham," said Morley; "this gentleman is a friend -of mine, who has promised me to do what he can to assist you. Take a -seat, and let us talk over this affair." - -"William Barham glanced first at Morley, and then at Lieberg, and then -at the door, as if he would fain have made his escape; but finding -that impossible, he sat down, and looked doggedly at the table. Morley -turned to Lieberg, as if to ask him to begin the discussion; but -certainly Lieberg did it in a way that Morley the least expected and -approved. - -"I find, Mr. Barham," he said, fixing his dark, piercing, intelligent -eyes upon him, with a gaze that seemed to look into his very heart--"I -find that you have committed a forgery, and are likely to be hanged." - -William Barham started up from his seat, and stared at Lieberg and -Morley with eyes full of the wild, wandering expression of terror. - -"I have it from the best authority," said Lieberg, still bending upon -him the same eagle glance. "Cousins, the Bow-street officer, who is -watching for you, told me the whole story." - -The lad sank down in the chair again, clasped his hands over his eyes, -and sobbed aloud. Still Lieberg held him under his dark, firm gaze, -and Morley, puzzled and surprised, did not know well whether to -interfere, and endeavour to assuage the unnecessary suffering which -his companion was inflicting upon the unhappy young man, or not. A -pause of more than a minute ensued, and even a short pause, under such -circumstances, is long. Perhaps Lieberg himself was in doubt how he -should proceed. - -"Is it not so?" he said, at length; and then, as the boy sat silent, -he turned his eyes towards Morley Ernstein with a strange expression, -which Morley did not well understand. There was a degree of unsated -fierceness in it, and yet it seemed to ask--"Shall I rack him -farther?--Will you abhor me, and interpose, if I do?" - -Morley made a gesture, as if supplicating him to forbear, and in an -instant the whole expression of Lieberg's countenance changed. - -"Hark, young man!" he continued, speaking to young Barham, in a milder -tone--"Do you know who I am?" - -"No, sir," replied the unhappy youth; "I never saw you before, that I -know of." - -"And yet you have used my name for five hundred pounds!" said Lieberg. - -The lad instantly sprang off his seat, and cast himself upon his knees -at Lieberg's feet, exclaiming--"Forgive me--oh, forgive me!" - -"I will forgive you," replied Lieberg, "upon one condition, which -is, that you at once quit this country, and go to one of the -Colonies--whichever I and my friend, Sir Morley Ernstein, may -determine. You shall be furnished with money for your passage." - -"But how shall I live when I am there?" exclaimed the youth. "I can -but do as I have done here, and get into trouble again." - -"There is no fear of that," interposed Morley; "some place or some -occupation shall be found for you, which will put you above want, and -if you behave well, means will be taken to procure your advancement." - -"Besides," said Lieberg, "your sister will in all probability be able -to do something for you. At all events, I and my friend, Sir Morley -Ernstein, pledge ourselves that you shall be taken care of, if you -conduct yourself properly. I must have no hesitation--this is your -only chance of escaping the gallows, so choose quickly." - -"Oh, I have chosen--I have chosen!" cried the young man, at once. "It -would, of course, be far better for me to go and take my chance there, -than stay here, and be hanged to a certainty." - -"That is according to taste," answered Lieberg, who could not refrain -from one of his bitter jests, even at that terrible moment; "however, -if such be your opinion, come to me to-morrow at this same hour, and I -will shew you the note you drew, paid by my banker." - -"But," said the boy, gazing earnestly in his face, as if to discover -what was passing in Lieberg's inmost thoughts, yet with a look of -cunning fear also, both lest he should offend and lest he should be -deceived: "but--but--suppose you should change your mind!" - -"And hang you after ail!" rejoined Lieberg, with a contemptuous sneer: -"it would be a very pleasant trick, young gentleman, for any of your -present friends--such as Neville and others. But be so good as to -recollect, that I have nothing to gain by hanging you: were I a -surgeon, there might be some object, for I dare say you would make a -very good subject for the anatomist's knife; but I am not a surgeon. -Moreover, remember that if I wanted to send you to the gallows, I -should have nothing to do this moment but to put my hand on your -collar, call in the waiter, and send for an officer." - -He took a step forward as he spoke, and the boy, in an agony of -terror, started back, and looked behind him, as if he expected to see -the whole array of Bow-street at the other side of the room. - -"Now mark me, my good youth," said Lieberg, "and answer me -straightforwardly; will you, or will you not come, as I have directed -you?" - -"I will, upon my honour, sir," replied the boy. - -"Your honour!" exclaimed Lieberg; "but I have got a better hold upon -you than your honour. Mark me, my good sir, if you do not come -precisely to the minute, you will find yourself at the new drop before -a month be over. The sessions are coming on, and we will make short -work with you, for I will not be trifled with. Do not suppose, either, -that you can escape, for you ought to know well enough, that every -movement you make is known, and I could have taken you out of your bed -last night, if I had thought right, for I knew quite well where you -were." - -"Where?" exclaimed the youth, with a shrewd look; "where?" - -"Where you should not have been," replied Lieberg, sternly; "not many -yards from ---- street, in the Strand." - -The colour that comes up from agitation, not from shame--for alas, he -was past that point--rose in the boy's countenance, and he only -replied, "I will come--indeed I will." - -Morley Ernstein had perceived from the first that Lieberg wished to -conduct the whole business with William Barham himself, and although -he might feel a suspicion, of which he was at the same time ashamed, -regarding his companion's motives; yet he felt not only that he had no -right, but also that it would be imprudent to interfere in a matter -which entirely depended upon Lieberg himself. He had therefore -abstained, as far as possible, from saying anything, but he now added -a caution, which was totally independent of his friend's proceedings. - -"If you will take my advice," he said, speaking to William Barham, -"you will, in the meantime, that is to say, before you go to Colonel -Lieberg's, avoid all your recent companions; and going home at once, -remain quietly, without setting your foot beyond the doors till -to-morrow." - -Remarking that the boy hesitated, and answered nothing, and knowing -what a hold evil habits have upon the mind, Morley resolved to try -what fear would do, and for that purpose to make use of the -information he had gained from Higgins. "I advise you alone for your -own good," he said, "and to prevent you from missing the only chance -of safety. You know quite well, that there are a number of other -people engaged in this affair. Now those scoundrels will be glad -enough to keep you here, in order to get your neck into the noose, -instead of their own." - -"I will peach against them all, if they do!" replied the youth, -vehemently. - -"That will not save you," replied Morley; "you are a principal, they -are only accessories." - -"I will not go near any of them," exclaimed the boy suddenly--"I will -not go near any of them." - -"Well, then, keep your resolution," rejoined Morley, "and you will do -well. I pledge myself for your safety, as well as Colonel Lieberg, if -you go to him to-morrow; but if you fail, I tell you as he has done, I -abandon you from that moment, and will take no farther interest in -you. Do you know where he lives?" - -The young man replied in the affirmative, and took up his hat as if to -depart, but then looked hesitatingly, first at Morley, and then at -Lieberg, and then at Morley again. At length, however, he said, -addressing the latter--"But I wanted to speak with you, Sir -Morley--can't I have a word with you for a minute?" - -Morley caught the quick eye of Lieberg glancing from the boy's face to -his, and he replied at once: "If what you want to say refers to this -business, it must be said to Colonel Lieberg, not to me, for upon him -alone does your fate depend--or, at least, it must be said in his -presence." - -"It is not about that at all," answered the youth; "it is something -which nobody has anything to do with, but you and I." - -"Let him speak with you--let him speak with you, Morley," said -Lieberg; "I am going to make a call on the other side of the square, -and will be back with you again in ten minutes." - -Thus saying, he left the room, and, the young man, after gazing in -Morley's face for a few moments, demanded, abruptly--"Pray, where is -my sister, sir?" - -"Your sister is quite safe," replied Morley, in a calm tone, "and -under the protection of those who will take care that no harm happens -to her." - -"That is to say, under yours, I suppose," said William Barham, looking -at him with a keen and eager glance; "but I'll tell you what, sir, if -such is the case, I think I have a right to ask, that you should -settle something upon her, that she may not come to poverty too." - -Morley grew angry. "You young scoundrel!" he said, "I have a great -inclination to take you up, and throw you out of that window into the -square. You have a right to ask, indeed! You, who would have sold your -sister to a low and vagabond swindler--you, now to talk of having any -right to meddle in her affairs!" - -"You are wrong, sir," said the young man, boldly, and with a more -straightforward tone than Morley had seen him yet assume; "you are -wrong, sir; I would not have sold my sister. I would not have taken a -penny for myself. Now that the truth must come out, I will tell you -how it was--a man will do many things to save his life--what is there -that he wont do, indeed?" - -"Nothing dishonourable, if he be not a coward," answered Morley. - -"Coward, or no coward!" rejoined the young man--"coward, or no coward, -no man likes the gallows, and it was to save myself from that, that I -did what I did; besides, I saw that, some day or another, she would -not have bread to eat. She has been forced to sell almost everything, -even now. Neville offered to settle five hundred a-year upon her, if I -would consent, and to hang me if I didn't. So I had no choice; but I -would not have taken a farthing from him myself, for all the world." - -"You are not quite so bad as I thought you," replied Morley; "but, -nevertheless, you are an atrocious scoundrel, and not a bit better for -being a coward too. In regard to your sister, however, if you have -really any feeling for her--and I can hardly think that such is the -case with one who would prey upon her in the way that you have -done--make your mind easy; she is no farther under my protection, than -that I will see she is not subjected either to insult or annoyance. -She is with two ladies who have taken an interest in her; one, a lady -of high rank, and one, a young lady who is very dear to me. They will -provide for and take care of her; but, as to your present demand, I -should be wronging her and myself both, were I to do anything which, -even in the eyes of the world, might cause it to be supposed there -exists any other connexion between myself and her, than interest in -her fate, and sorrow for her misfortunes." - -"I suppose--" said the young man; but Morley stopped him at once. - -"There is nothing more, sir, to be said upon the subject," he -exclaimed. "I am very likely to be made angry in this matter; and, -therefore, the less you speak, or suppose, the better." - -"I was only going to say," replied the young man, "that I suppose, of -course, as you know where she is, you'll have no objection to my -seeing her." - -"I certainly do know where she is," answered Morley; "but you will -easily understand that, as she removed from her own house for the -purpose of keeping at a distance from the influence you had so -misused, and from the insulting solicitations which you had permitted -and encouraged, there is not the slightest chance of your being -permitted to see her. It was from yourself and your acquaintances that -she fled; and, therefore, you will know nothing farther about her than -you do know now, till you embark on board a vessel for one of the -colonies. Your sister's address will then be furnished to you; you can -write to her, if your wishes prompt you to do so, and she will answer -you, informing you of her own situation, hopes, and prospects. This is -all I have to say upon the subject, and you must expect nothing more." - -The young man frowned upon him fiercely as he spoke; and after looking -at him with a bitter and a disappointed glance, for a moment or two, -he said--"God give you as hard a measure!" - -"I hope he may give me just the same," replied Morley; "for I can call -him to witness that I am acting as I judge best for the happiness both -of yourself and her." - -"Ay," said the young man, thoughtfully, "I may, some time or another, -have the means of paying you this;" and without more ado, he quitted -the room. - -"He is a determined young villain!" was Morley's comment, as Helen's -brother left him. "How strange it is that we sometimes see the gifts, -both of mind and person, so unequally apportioned in the same family! -Beauty, and talent, and virtue in one member of it, and vice, -stupidity, and deformity in another. Who, even in look, would take -that youth for Helen's brother?" - -He had not long to consider the matter farther, for Lieberg soon came -back, full of schemes of pleasure and amusement. He had a thousand -things for Morley to see; he had a thousand things for Morley to do; -and it was with difficulty that his friend, upon the excuse of other -business, freed himself from him for an hour or two, in order that he -might, as he had promised, convey to Helen Barham tidings of what had -passed in regard to her brother. Perhaps it might have been a truer -way of putting the matter, if we had said: in order to avail himself -of the excuse he had made for visiting Juliet Carr. He promised, -however, to join Lieberg in the park within two hours, and, certainly, -those two hours were amongst the sweetest that ever he knew in life. -He found Juliet Carr sitting with Lady Malcolm; Helen was in her own -room; and after the elder lady had remained some short time, she rose, -discreetly saying that she would send Miss Barham to hear what tidings -he had brought. Juliet begged Lady Malcolm to let her go; and, I -believe, that if one could have seen into her bosom, her heart would -have been found beating terribly as she made the proposal. Lady -Malcolm, however, replied--"I am going up for another pair of gloves, -Juliet, and therefore I will tell her as I go." - -Juliet and Morley were left alone. Strange to say, however, they both -remained silent for several minutes. There was much that Morley -desired to say, but yet the thought that Helen might come down every -moment made him pause and hesitate, and lose even the time that he -had. Juliet, on her part, divined something of what was passing in his -breast, and she was afraid of speaking first, for she knew, whatever -topic she chose, her voice would tremble so as to shew that her -thoughts were busy with agitating subjects. - -I do believe that seldom, if ever, has a declaration of love been made -in this world without being managed in the most awkward way that it is -possible to conceive. Indeed, though it may seem a contradiction in -terms to say that imperfection is a part of perfection, yet I do -believe that awkwardness is necessary to a proper declaration; for it -is scarcely possible to believe two persons to be very much in love -with each other, without being greatly agitated at that moment, and, -consequently, not sufficiently master of their own thoughts to act -with calmness and propriety. - -Morley, however, at length discovered that the pause must not last any -longer; and, as it was quite out of the question at that moment to -talk of any indifferent subject, he went round the table, seated -himself on the sofa by the side of Juliet, took her right hand, which -lay idle in her lap, and pressing his lips upon it, added the small -word "Juliet." - -Juliet answered nothing, but sat with her beautiful eyes bent down, -the colour glowing in her cheeks, her lip quivering, her bosom -panting. Morley was beloved, and he felt it. "Juliet," he -repeated--"Juliet, dear girl, after what I see, need I ask you any -questions?" - -"Oh, no, no!" murmured Juliet, turning her head slowly round, still -bent so that he could scarcely see her glowing face for the rich hair -that clustered over it; and, leaning her forehead and her eyes upon -his shoulder, she repeated--"oh, no, no!" - -The doors of Lady Malcolm's house were such as doors should always be, -and opened noiselessly. Juliet's face was hid upon Morley's -shoulder--her hand was clasped in his--his eyes were bent in -tenderness upon her--his arm was thrown around her--when the door -opened without their seeing it--closed again softly the moment after; -and they remained alone for near an hour. - -Alas! poor Helen Barham! - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - - -William Barham was punctual to his hour; but Lieberg made him wait for -fully twenty minutes in an empty room, looking out into the dull back -court of a London house, where there was nothing to amuse his mind -within the chamber or without: not a picture, not a print upon the -walls: not the sight of a chimney, the smoke of which would have given -occupation to the eye: not an odd-looking table, with carved legs: not -anything, in short, on which the energies of the spirit could spend -themselves. The very carpet was in long straight lines of monotonous -colours, and the walls were painted of a blank greyish hue. - -The mind, when surrounded by dulness from which it cannot escape, is -like the scorpion when hemmed in by fire, and turns to sting itself. -That room seemed the very abode of gloom and despondency. The windows -were dusty, and admitted but little light; they were not as regularly -opened as they ought to have been, and there was a closeness in the -atmosphere, a smell of desolation, if we may so call it, which made -one feel faint. The grate looked somewhat rusty from neglect, and -there were no fire-irons. - -William Barham first walked to a window, and looked out, but nothing -met his eye, except the tall, unpleasant, dingy brick wall of an -opposite house, without a single casement looking that way. He then -turned, and gazed round the room. It was all cheerless and dull. His -eye found nothing on which it could rest. It was empty and gloomy as a -heart that has been bereaved of the object of its love. He tried the -window again, and then let his eye run over the walls of the room; but -all was dark and sad. There was not even a Greek border on the broad -expanse of dull, grey painted stucco, with which the mind might form a -labyrinth for thought to lose herself withal. He walked up and down -for a moment or two, and then cast himself down upon a chair, and his -fancy gave itself up to that which was most painful--his own fate and -circumstances. - -Did Lieberg do it on purpose? Who can say? There are few men who know -human nature better than he did. There are few who could more -correctly appreciate the effect of solitary thought, with gloomy -adjuncts, upon a mind loaded with crime, and weakened by vice and -intemperance. None, then, could judge better what would be that effect -upon William Barham, and yet he had ordered him, with particular care, -to be placed in that room, which he himself had never entered above -once or twice since he had hired those apartments; and yet while the -youth remained there, Lieberg was not occupied with any important -affair. He was trifling with some objects of art; writing a note or -two in answer to invitations; doing a thousand things, in short, that -might have been done at any other time. It seemed, certainly, that he -calculated upon producing a particular effect upon the mind of the -unhappy boy who was in his power. - -William Barham's eye, in the meantime, strained upon the floor. It -grew more and more anxious in expression, its gaze more and more -intense. He looked as if horror-struck with some object on which his -eyes fell upon the carpet--but the unhappy boy saw nothing before him -but his own fate. Remorse, if not repentance, visited his heart! He -thought of all that he had done, of all that he might have done; he -saw that, by his own folly, and by his own crimes, at the best he had -driven himself from his native land, and had, but for an accident, -condemned himself to death, to an ignominious and terrible death. He -had lost all the advantages of a fair education, an honourable -teaching, and of a good example. He had voluntarily chosen evil when -good was within his grasp, and now the consequences had fallen upon -his head, without any place of shelter, any hope, any refuge, except -in the mercy of a man who had shewn him some harshness, and whose -objects he was strongly inclined to doubt. He had come thither with a -palpitating heart, and he remained in agitation and distress. - -Minute after minute went by, and each one seemed an age, till at -length he began to think--"Is this man deceiving me?--Perhaps he is -playing me false!--Perhaps even now he has sent for the officers of -justice to seize their prey!" - -He started up and approached the door, intending to steal out if he -found no one, and to say that he could not wait any longer, if he met -with any of the servants in the passage. There was a footman within a -few yards, however, and when he had repeated that which he had made up -his mind to speak, the man answered, with the cold sauciness of a -London lackey,--"My master said you were to wait for him, and so you -must wait, if you please." - -The man stood directly in the way, and William Barham, re-entered the -room, with a sinking heart. His thoughts, hurried and confused, first -turned to flight, but flight, he soon saw, was impossible. The window -was high--there was a fall of five-and-twenty feet, or more, into the -area below. His next thought was, what else could give him safety? -Where was there any other hope? "This man must want something," -he thought. "He must have some object, some purpose, some end to -answer!--What can it be?--I will do anything, everything, if he will -but spare my life." - -It was at that moment that Lieberg, as if he had calculated it by a -watch, sent to call the unfortunate William Barham to his presence; -and when the youth appeared, he questioned him sternly and steadily, -as to the whole transaction of the forgery, writing down his replies. -Had William Barham been an old and wily offender, he might have -refused to plead in this illegitimate sort of court; but fear now -superseded everything: even natural cunning gave way before it, and he -told all, though he saw Lieberg taking notes of each word he spoke. - -"Now," asked the interrogator, when he had finished, "will you sign -that?" and he put the paper before him. - -"But will you promise me safety?" said the boy, torn by terrors of -several kinds, and gazing upon the countenance of Lieberg with eyes -that seemed as if they would start from their sockets--"will you -promise me safety?" - -"Yes," answered Lieberg, "I will promise you--but on one condition, -that you will help me with your whole heart and mind in something that -I desire to accomplish." - -"Oh, that I will!" exclaimed the youth, "in anything that you like." - -"In _anything?_" said Lieberg, with emphasis, and at the same time -holding up his finger, to mark more particularly, that he had some -especial object. - -The blood rose slightly in William Barham's cheek, but the game was -for life and death, and he had made up his mind. "Yes," he replied, -nodding his bead significantly; "perhaps I understand what you mean. -But I say, I will help you in anything you like." - -"That is right," answered Lieberg, "that is quite right; and if you do -help me, instead of death, or exile, and poverty, and privation, and -gnawing want, you shall have comfort, and respectability, and -affluence, in your own land." - -The youth's eyes sparkled, and Lieberg went on, "Attach yourself to my -fortunes," he continued, "and you are safe. I tell you fairly, all I -wish you to sign this paper for, is, that I may have such a hold upon -you, that neither any of those rascally companions whom you have -unfortunately met with, nor any of the whining Methodists and -hypocrites who are scarcely better than the others, may ever persuade -you to play me false in this matter. Mark me! It is not any knavery on -your part that I fear, it is weakness; but I think you know me well -enough, to be sure that I will hang you, as certain as I live, if you -fail me----" - -"But will you certainly spare me, if I do not?" cried the youth. "Will -you write it down?" - -Lieberg paused for a moment, in meditation, drawing in his eyelids, as -if to shut out even the daylight from his busy brain, and he replied, -at length-- - -"Very well, I will, marking the condition, that you pledge yourself to -assist me in one particular object, with your whole power and might." - -"Very well," said the youth, and Lieberg wrote down the stipulations. - -The boy signed, what might be called, his confession, and Lieberg put -his hand to the promise. After he had done so, however, he shook his -head, gazing on the boy with a smile full of pity and contempt. - -"I will keep that promise, my good youth, firmly," he said, "but at -the same time I will tell you, it is of no earthly value; for I have -nothing to do but to let this bill slip into the hands of the -Bow-street officers, and you are arrested, tried, and executed in the -shortest possible time. No promise of mine could save you. It is the -state that prosecutes, the law that condemns. I have nothing to do -with it but to swear that this name, purporting to be mine, is not my -handwriting," and he took out of his pocket-book the identical bill -which William Barham had forged, and laid his finger upon the fatal -words, "Frederick Lieberg," at the bottom. - -The unhappy youth gazed at it, with eyes of eager fire--and oh, what -would he have given to snatch it from the hand of him that held it, -and tear it into a thousand pieces that moment! The bright eyes of -Lieberg seemed to read his very thoughts, and again the dark and -bitter smile curled his lip, as he said-- - -"You cannot get it, my good youth. It will remain with me till there -is a stronger bond between you and me, and what I desire is -accomplished.--Where is your sister?" - -"I do not know," replied the youth, boldly. "Do you not know?--I -thought you did." - -"No, indeed," replied Lieberg, "I am utterly ignorant. But we must -both know ere long. This is the first business we have before us.--You -tell me true, I see it--but how happens it that she was removed -without your knowledge?" - -"I was away for two days," replied the youth, "and when I came back -she was gone. But he knows--that Sir Morley Ernstein! Cannot you get -him to tell you?" - -"I would not ask him for this right hand," replied Lieberg, "but we -will soon find out without him." - -"He refused to tell me," said the youth; "he would give me no tidings, -indeed, but that she is safe and with two ladies, one of whom is a -lady of rank." - -"Ha!" exclaimed Lieberg. "A lady of rank? Who can that be? And he -positively refused to let you know where she is?" - -"That he did," answered the youth; "but I'll tell you what he told -me, too; he said that I should know where she is, and she should write -to me, as soon as I was aboard ship to go to the colonies. Can't we -make something of that, sir?" - -"Certainly," answered Lieberg, "we will make everything of that, if we -cannot do what we desire before; for that might produce a long delay, -which must be avoided if possible.--Oh, we will arrive at it!" he -said, after a moment's thought--"where did you sleep, last night?" - -"In our own house," replied the boy. "The rent is paid, the woman told -me, and she is put in to keep it, with seven shillings a week; but the -place is still ours, till the twenty-ninth of September." - -"Well then," said Lieberg, "go back at once to the good woman who is -in the house, and in the course of the evening get her to tell you -exactly what was the appearance of the ladies who came for your -sister, and what was the livery of the servant whom she talked of to -me. Whether he was a tall man or a short man, and, in a word, all the -particulars that she can furnish you with. Do not let her see that you -are cross questioning her, for I suspect, from her manner to me -yesterday morning, she has been told not to tell the truth to any one. -You must therefore proceed cautiously." - -"Oh, I understand--I understand!" replied the boy. "I must fish it -out, you mean." - -"Exactly," said Lieberg, with a smile at the expression. "Fish it out, -and come to me at six o'clock to-day. I shall then be dressing for -dinner, but you will be admitted; and now, as perhaps you are in want -of money, there is a ten-pound note for you. If we proceed -successfully, your fortunes are begun." - -The youth took the money eagerly. It was certainly the wages of -iniquity, but evil--whatever be its kind--always smoothes the road for -more; and William Barham had so often tasted burning pleasures bought -by money wrongly acquired, that there were no great scruples left in -his mind. His sister's honour and soul, her happiness, and her peace -of mind, he was very ready to sell for the combined temptation of -safety and enjoyment; and, taking the money greedily, he gave Lieberg -a meaning smile, which even sickened the superior demon with whom he -was dealing; for surely it is a part of the punishment which evil -spirits are destined to feel, even in the joys which they propose to -themselves, that they must abhor the tools they work with, and loathe -the means which they employ for their own ends. If Lieberg, at that -moment, had given way to his own inclination, he would have driven the -youth, with contempt and hatred, into the street. But he suffered him -to depart quietly, saying--"Do not fail;" and William Barham proceeded -on his way. - -Exactly at the hour appointed he was at Lieberg's door again, and was -instantly admitted to his dressing-room. The splendour and the luxury -of everything that he beheld, the beautiful arrangement, the exquisite -taste, struck him so much, that for a moment he did not speak, gazing -round at all the richly-chased silver implements, the china, the -glass, and the steel-work, with which the dressing-table was covered, -and thinking that his sister would be a very happy girl, if, on any -terms, she was permitted to live in the midst of such magnificence as -that. And yet William Barham had been taught good principles; had -heard, during his early youth, moral and religious doctrines from the -lips of his mother; and, until his father's health had failed -entirely, had daily received instruction from him. But there are some -minds which seem incapable of imbibing any clear and definite notion -of right and wrong. They can recollect that they have been told one -thing is good, and another thing is evil, and perfectly distinguish -between the two, but without feeling in their hearts, even in the -slightest degree, the excellence of the one and the hatefulness of the -other. They are like that arid soil, which will produce abundance of -weeds, but in which any good shrub withers as soon as it is planted. - -Such was very much the case with William Barham; but there was another -cause which had tended also to make him what he was, and which must be -clearly pointed out. His father, though an excellent man and a sincere -Christian, was fond of indulging in speculative opinions--not of -embracing, but of discussing them--the most dangerous practice in the -world before young people, for if they do not absolutely adopt the -opinion that is wrong, they learn not to be quite sure that -any opinion is right. The mind of Helen herself might have been -affected by this fault on the part of their father, but she had two -safeguards--a pure, high-spirited heart, and the memory of her -mother's counsels, she having been somewhat older than her brother, -and more capable of receiving principles than he was, at the time of -that mother's death. - -The tidings which William Barham brought were fuller than Lieberg had -expected. The appearance of the servant and of the ladies was detailed -with great accuracy, and even the crest upon the servant's button was -known; but when Lieberg sent his valet to bring him a book that he -named, in which the crest of all the principal families of England -were displayed, he found that several would answer the description, -which, as may easily be supposed, had not been given with true -heraldic accuracy. William Barham seemed at his wits' end, when he -found that this was the case; but Lieberg, whatever might be the -strength of his passions, was not one of those who give them vent at -every trifling obstacle. On the contrary, like the great propelling -power of the present day, they were kept pent up within the iron of -his bosom, but to carry him on with the fiercer vehemence to the end -desired; and on this occasion he only laughed, saying--"We shall -arrive at it--do not be afraid. Combining the crest with the colour of -the livery, and then applying the description of the man himself and -the ladies, to discriminate among the various branches of the -family, we shall find out the facts. I will put it in the hands of -an Argus this very night, who will ferret out the whole matter ere -eight-and-forty hours be over. Difficulties, my young friend, to a man -of a firm mind, and obstacles in his path, of whatever nature they may -be, only afford him stronger inducements to follow his course, and -render his pursuit a passion. I remember a man who was told that he -could never throw the same combinations four times running with the -dice, and he sat for three months in the same room till he had done -it. That man was fit to struggle for an empire. I have seldom suffered -myself to seek anything very eagerly; but I never yet was baffled when -I did. And now go home, and keep yourself as quiet as may be. Have no -communication of any kind with the men that you know in London, and -confide no secrets to the women. Always be at your own house, so that -I may find you from nine in the morning till night-fall; the rest of -the four-and-twenty hours is your own." - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - - -Two days elapsed, and on the third morning Lady Malcolm was sitting in -her drawing-room alone, when the servant threw open the door, and -announced "Colonel Lieberg." Her visitor upon the present occasion was -personally known to her, so far as a mere bow went, when they met in -society. But this was the first time that he had ever presented -himself at her house; and Lady Malcolm, therefore, as she well might, -looked somewhat surprised when she received him. Her demeanour, -however, was perfectly courteous, though somewhat distant withal, and -after begging him to be seated, she enquired what fortunate -circumstance procured her the honour of his visit. - -"I beg your ladyship's pardon," said Lieberg, "for intruding upon you, -especially at this hour of the morning; but, in truth, though I asked -for you--thinking it would be more proper so to do--my visit is -intended for a young lady, who is, I find, under your kind care and -protection, and to whom I have some intelligence to communicate, which -may, perhaps, give her pleasure." - -Lady Malcolm, however, had lived long enough in the great world to -have the faculty of misunderstanding, when she thought proper; and she -therefore replied--"I am really very sorry, Count, but Miss Carr is -out, and probably will not return till the evening." - -"Your ladyship is under a mistake," replied Lieberg; "my visit was not -intended for the lady you mention, but for Miss Barham, who, her -brother informs me, is residing at your house." - -"He is quite in error," replied Lady Malcolm; "Miss Barham did, -indeed, do me the favour of passing a few days with me, but she left -me yesterday morning." - -Lieberg's cheek grew hot; and though he still maintained the -appearance of the utmost suavity, there was a certain degree of -sharpness in his tone, which shewed how mortified and disappointed he -was. - -"Then, of course," he said, "your ladyship can favour me with her -address." - -"No, indeed," replied Lady Malcolm, "I cannot. All I can tell you is, -that she is gone into the country." - -"May I humbly enquire," rejoined Lieberg, "whether your difficulty, in -regard to telling me her address, is voluntary, or from ignorance of -where she is?--beg pardon," he added, in a softer tone "if I am -asking anything extraordinary; but as I have matters of importance to -communicate to Miss Barham, it is very necessary that I should learn -her address by some means, in order to write to her speedily." - -"To answer you candidly, Count Lieberg," replied Lady Malcolm, "and as -you put the question so distinctly, I must acknowledge that I do not -give you the information you wish for, partly because I have not the -exact address, and partly because Miss Barham requested me not to say -where she is gone to any one." - -"But I should certainly think she would make an exception in my -favour," said Lieberg, earnestly, "considering that business of the -greatest importance, affecting her brother in the highest degree, is -left entirely in my hands. I say, therefore, Lady Malcolm," he added, -as that lady remained perfectly silent--"I say, therefore, that I -should think she must have made an exception in my favour." - -"She did not," answered Lady Malcolm, drily; "she never hinted at any -exception at all; and such being the case, I cannot take upon myself -to make one." - -"Really, this is very extraordinary," exclaimed Lieberg; "and allow me -to say, very mortifying also. Nor can I think that Miss Barham will be -at all obliged to those who prevent her from receiving intelligence -which it is necessary she should be made acquainted with directly." - -"Indeed," said Lady Malcolm, "I feel it to be a very painful and -disagreeable position; but you must see clearly, my dear Count, that I -have only one course to pursue." - -"No, indeed," replied Lieberg, "I cannot say that I agree with you. I -cannot but think that, under, present circumstances, and considering -my character and station in life, you might, without hesitation or -apprehension of the consequences, make that exception in my favour -which I am perfectly certain Miss Barham would have done had she -thought of it." - -"Ay," replied Lady Malcolm, with a sly smile, "but you men are so bold -and resolute, Count Lieberg, and I am but a poor timid woman, always -afraid of doing wrong. You must forgive me, indeed, if I do not act as -you wish; and besides, as I say, I have not got her exact address. She -is to write to me in a few days, and then if she tells me to give you -her address, I can send it. If not, I will write to her, and ask. This -is all I can do." - -The tone in which she spoke was firm and determined; and Lieberg, -seeing that it was vain to press the matter further, made a virtue of -necessity, saying--"Well, my dear Lady Malcolm, you judge for the -best, I am sure; but believe me it may cause great inconvenience, -especially as I myself much want to go out of town. What a beautiful -little picture that is! That must be a Correggio!" - -"It is generally esteemed so," replied Lady Malcolm. And Lieberg, -before he took his leave, examined the various pictures which the room -contained, praising several with that degree of discrimination which -took from his commendation every appearance of flattery to the taste -of the lady who had selected the paintings, though in reality he was -skilfully smoothing down all the feelings of irritation which he -feared his own irritation might have produced. He succeeded so far as -to make Lady Malcolm say to herself, after he left her, "Well; he is a -very pleasant person, certainly.--But Morley is right," she added, "I -would not trust him in matters such as this." - -Whatever were Lady Malcolm's motives, the story which she had told -Count Lieberg was perfectly true. Miss Barham had left her on the -preceding day, and had gone down into the country. Juliet Carr, as she -had promised when Morley first mentioned the situation of his poor -protégée, had written at once to her father, asking if he would -receive Helen as her companion and friend, when she herself came down, -and hinting at those pecuniary arrangements which she knew would have -weight with her somewhat too covetous parent. - -To her surprise, however, she had received a letter by return of post, -making no reference whatsoever to money matters, but "begging Juliet -to ask only one question of her fair companion--namely, whether she -was or was not the daughter of the Rev. Mr. Barham, the curate of -Elmes, in Cumberland, and if both her father and mother were dead. If -so, he said, he would have the greatest pleasure in receiving her, as -he had been an intimate acquaintance of her grandfather, and done what -he could to prevent him from spending his fine property. He added, -moreover, that if from the circumstances at which Juliet had hinted, -it was more pleasant for Miss Barham to come down at once, without -waiting for his daughter, he begged she would do so, and remain as -long as she liked, when he would treat her in every respect as his -child." - -The whole letter was so unlike her father, that unless Juliet had seen -the handwriting she could scarcely have believed it was his -composition. That fact, however, was not to be doubted, and she -accordingly shewed the epistle to Helen, who immediately replied that -she was the daughter of the Mr. Barham mentioned, and she had some -faint idea of having heard him once or twice speak of Mr. Carr. Juliet -then proposed to write back to her father and inform him that, such -being the case, Helen would accompany her to Yelverly in a fortnight. -But Helen laid her fair hand upon her companion's arm, and gazing -earnestly in her face, replied, "I would rather go at once, if -possible." - -"But why so, dear Helen?" said Juliet. "Lady Malcolm wishes you to -stay, and go with us to some watering-place for a time, and Morley has -promised----" - -"I would rather go at once," said Helen, with that sad shake of the -head which speaks that the heart is faint and weary within us,--"I -would rather go at once, dear Juliet--there is much that I would -willingly avoid here, in London." - -Juliet understood her in a moment, and opposed her no farther; and it -was settled, at Helen's own desire, that she and her maid should -proceed part of the way to Yelverly on the following morning. This -plan was put in execution, and Helen herself seemed more than ever -anxious to fly from the scenes that surrounded her. She was to visit -for one day, as she went, the house of the friend to whom she had -previously written, and whose prolonged silence she did not -understand; after which, she was to go on to the house of Juliet's -father, and to write immediately on her arrival. Thus, Lady Malcolm -could safely say that she did not absolutely know where she was, -though Juliet Carr could not have done so with as much sincerity had -she been present, for Helen left the address of the friend she was -about to visit with her. - -We will not enquire into the feelings of Lieberg as he returned to his -own home, suffice it that he immediately sent for the youth, William -Barham, with whom he held a long conference. At the end of their -disquisition of ways and means, he despatched the lad to seek for -Morley Ernstein in Berkeley-square, but that gentleman was not at -home, and Lieberg himself, in riding through the park a few hours -afterwards, met him walking with Lady Malcolm and a young lady, whose -dazzling beauty of face and symmetry of form at once let Lieberg into -the secret of a part, at least, of his friend's conduct. "Ha, this is, -good!" he said to himself, as he rode on after bowing to Lady Malcolm, -and nodding familiarly to Morley. "This is good! However, Sir Morley, -you shall not frustrate me." - -Lieberg did not attempt to stop; nor appear to take any further notice -of Juliet Carr; and Morley walked on by her side with very little -restraint upon their feelings from the presence of Lady Malcolm. -Whatever restraint did exist was, perhaps, not altogether unpleasant. -It is strange to say, that the fact of being prevented from doing what -we could wish to do, can ever be agreeable; and yet, though the lover -may long to be altogether alone with her he loves, there is a sweet -excitement in expressing all the warm and glowing feelings in the -heart, by shadowy figures, half veiling, half exposing, the thoughts -and the sensations that we should have told openly had there not been -an indifferent ear to listen. - -Good Lady Malcolm, indeed, was by no means indifferent; and though her -presence, as I have said, was some restraint, yet that restraint was -too small ever to be painful. The marriage of Morley Ernstein and of -Juliet Carr, was a thing that she had long set her heart upon; and -that they would fall in love with each other as soon as they met, was -one of those facts which she had predetermined, with that peculiar -sort of vaticination which many elderly ladies experience in regard to -affairs of the heart. When they did meet, then, and did fall in love -with each other, she received it more as a compliment to her -prophetical powers than anything else; and, well pleased with them and -herself, she left them to settle the rest as much to their own -satisfaction as possible. - -Having used the words, "when they did meet, and did fall in love with -each other," I must dwell for a minute or two upon the process of that -act, as, in the hurry of tale-telling, I could not pause upon it -sufficiently to explain some part of the mystery at the exact period -when it might be most proper to do so. I have shown, indeed, how it -took place with Morley Ernstein, that in his case it was, in fact, -_love at first sight_--a thing much more common, by the way, with -eager and impetuous hearts and quick imaginations, than is generally -supposed. It was, literally, love at first sight; for though there -might be some vague boyish impressions of what he had loved and liked -in childhood still remaining undefined in his mind, and making his -heart spring to Juliet Carr as soon as he saw her, yet they were too -indefinite to be taken into the account; and it was, simply and truly, -admiration of her dazzling beauty, and the translation of that -loveliness into a guarantee, under the hand of nature, that the heart, -and mind, and spirit within were of the brightest kind, which made -Morley Ernstein love Juliet Carr from the first moment he beheld her. - -With her, the matter was very different. Woman's love is nursed with -more visionary food than man's; and, in our cold climate at least, is -of slower but more solid growth than his. Circumscribed in her sphere -of action, even from her childhood, her feelings and her thoughts are -more concentrated within her own bosom, and fix more firmly upon the -great master topic of her whole existence--love. Juliet, the reader -has remarked, had recollected the early days she had passed with -Morley Ernstein, better than he had done. The reason was, that she was -a woman; and from a very early period, all the affections are matters -of more importance to a woman than a man. She had recollected those -early days, not only as a passing dream, but as a definite existence; -there was scarcely a sport or a pastime which they had enjoyed -together, that she could not call up before the eye of memory. The -voice of Morley Ernstein, in all the soft tones of boyish attachment, -had often rung in her ears as she grew towards womanhood. His young, -bright face often presented itself in her waking and her sleeping -hours, and sometimes she would try to picture the changes that must -have come over him, and would ask herself, "What the boy would be, now -he was become a man!" - -Her annual visit to Lady Malcolm too--her father allowed her to make -an annual visit--called Morley frequently back to her mind, for that -good friend would often talk of him in the manner which the little -scheme he had established, in her own mind, suggested; and by one -means or another, Juliet's imagination was supplied with plenty of -food for nursing up young affection into full-grown love. Thus was it, -then, that the germ of the future passion went on in her heart; so -that when she saw Morley Ernstein again under the wall of his own -park, it was with no slight emotion that she recognised the companion -of her early days; that she beheld him far surpassing, in personal -appearance, all which she had herself anticipated; that she heard the -tones of the same voice, which still echoed in her ear from the -pleasant places of her childhood, and that she beheld--although it was -evident that he did not know her--his eyes filled with admiration, and -with the promise of love. She dreamt upon that meeting for many a long -day, and dreamt joyfully, though the interview itself had been mingled -with some pain, in consequence of her father's harsh and rude repulse -of Morley's apology for the accident which had occurred. - -And now what were her feelings? Reader, she had given herself entirely -to the passion that had taken its place in her heart. Everything which -she had seen of Morley Ernstein was so noble, so generous, so kind, -that reason confirmed all that the voice of love prompted, and told -her that she might well, and without hesitation, acknowledge her -choice in the eyes of all the world. She felt that the glow of pride -would mingle with the blush of modesty on her cheek, as she avowed her -affection for one so well worthy of attachment, and she could not see -in the whole range of probability, one objection that any one could -urge against her union with him whom she had chosen. The eye of -avarice itself, greedy as it is, might be dazzled with the splendour -of his fortune. His attainments, his character, his connexions, were -all high, and such as might well satisfy a far nobler race than hers. -He was master, too, of himself, and of his own choice, so that there -did not appear the slightest chance of any obstacle to their union. - -Indeed, between Morley Ernstein and Juliet Carr, difficulties were -never thought of--objections were never anticipated. Morley had never -asked her to wed him. He had told her of his love; he had painted it -with all the fire and eagerness that he felt; he had seen that he was -loved in return, and, not satisfied with that, he had drawn from her, -by questions, and entreaties, and all the arts of passion, an -acknowledgment that it was so. More than one day had passed in all the -pleasant visions of the future, in all the words, and looks, and -caresses which form that bright and rapturous dream in which the hours -of young affection fleet by. Rarely, very rarely, do lovers think much -of difficulties, and certainly if there ever was a case were it seemed -needless to do so, it was that of Morley Ernstein and Juliet Carr. -While they were together--and it must be admitted that they were so -during the greater part of each day--the minutes flew by like -lightning; and had their whole lives been destined to pass in the same -manner, life and death would have seemed but two points with an -instant of joy between them. - -There were times, however, when the ordinary proprieties of society, -or the particular arrangements of Lady Malcolm, kept them apart, and -in those hours Lieberg was almost always with Morley Ernstein. Now, -let not the reader suppose that Morley was very foolish, or very weak, -for putting any trust in one who was so little trust-worthy, or in -associating with a man, whose views, thoughts, and principles, were so -different from his own. The reader, it is true, knows what were -Lieberg's views, thoughts, and principles. For the eyes of the world -we have drawn back the veil, and exposed his heart; but such was not -the case with Morley Ernstein. No hand had laid bare for him the -objects and the views of his travelling companion--no one had shewn -him Lieberg's dealings with William Barham--no one had told the -purposes he nourished against Helen with but the more eagerness and -determination from the opposition that he had met with. On all these -points Morley was in the dark. He only knew Lieberg as the most -fascinating person that he had ever met with; as a man full of talent, -information, and taste; as one who possessed that sort of candour, -which, far from concealing opinions when opposed either to the views -and prejudices of others, or to the general feelings of society, -rather exaggerates and aggravates them, and makes them appear worse -than they really are. He knew him, besides, as one capable of doing -generous actions, and at the same time denying all merit in performing -them; as one, who was even at that moment sacrificing a large sum, -rather than proceed to the destruction of a fellow-creature; as one -who had saved his own life, and who had attended him through a long -and painful sickness with the care and tenderness of a brother. - -Such was the light in which Morley had alone a right to regard Count -Lieberg, although his friend's openly-avowed principles, in regard to -some points of morality, might well cause him to avoid as far as -possible placing the fate of a young and lovely being, like Helen -Barham, in any degree at his disposal. Nor did the least point appear -in Lieberg's present conduct, which could excite Morley's suspicions. -He entered warmly into his views for hastening the departure of -William Barham from England; he drove with Morley down to the docks, -for the purpose of seeking a vessel to bear the youth to a foreign -land. He aided eagerly in obtaining the promise of a small place of -considerable labour, but no great trust, for Helen's brother, and in -every respect he seemed almost to have forgotten herself. So at least -it appeared, though, indeed, if there was anything which should have -excited Morley's suspicion, it was the fact of Lieberg's total silence -in regard to an object which had once seemed to interest him so -deeply. But Morley was not of a suspicious nature, and he judged that -Lieberg, a man of the world, and a man of pleasure, had looked upon -poor Helen Barham as a beautiful picture, which he had seen and -perhaps desired, but had forgotten very soon. Thus he was well pleased -to enjoy Lieberg's society, whenever he was obliged to be absent from -Juliet Carr. Yet, if the truth must be told, Morley did feel that his -companion's conversation was not calculated to improve him, though it -might be to instruct and to amuse. Nevertheless he did not bring the -conviction home to his own heart so far as to prevent him from -accompanying Lieberg to various places of entertainment, and enjoying -the comments of his friend fully as much as that which he went to see -or to hear. - -Once, and only once, during their rambles about London, Lieberg jested -with him slightly upon the subject of Juliet Carr, and claimed a right -to be present at the marriage, saying-- - -"Pray tell the fair lady, Morley, that I pulled you out of the water -just in time to fulfil your country's vulgar proverb, about the -propensity to hanging counteracting the risk of a watery death." - -"Oh, you shall be present," replied Morley, gaily, "but recollect, -Lieberg, you have been wrong once in regard to your calculation of my -proceedings, and you may be mistaken, even now." - -Lieberg looked at him with a quiet smile, but made no reply, and the -conversation dropped there. As usually happens in London, two or three -gay _fêtes_ took place, as if to close the season brilliantly, and, -whenever it was possible, Lieberg induced his young friend to go to -these parties, and introduced him to a number of the persons present. -Although, by this time, all Morley's plans and purposes, in regard to -the study of society, had been burnt up, like old acts of parliament, -in the fire of passion, he was not sorry to see such scenes, and to -know such people. But if Lieberg thought that Morley was likely to -plunge into the vortex of dissipated life, to have his attention -distracted, and his eyes blinded, by the gay scenes and bright objects -around him, so as to forget his purposes in regard to Helen Barham, -and to leave her to her fate, even for a short period, Lieberg was -mistaken. - -Had Morley not known Juliet Carr, he might have drunk of the cup of -pleasure to intoxication; for there were many beautiful, and -sparkling, and brilliant, who were right willing to lead him into -paths more flowery than safe, and to assail him on all sides, with -arms very difficult for a young man to resist. But Morley was defended -now with that highest and noblest of armours, love for a pure and -beautiful being. His life, in short, was in Juliet Carr, and all the -rest around him was but a pageant or a dream. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - - -"Take care you're not done, Bill--that's all I say!" was the -exclamation of the good-looking, powerful fellow, who has once already -been placed before the reader's eyes, under the name of Harry Martin, -and who now sat with Helen's brother in the house she had inhabited. -"If he gets you on board ship, you mayn't get out again, I take it; -but you know your own business best. I don't like the job, I can tell -you. I think you're all wrong, my lad, and you'll find it out some -day.--Come, pass us another glass, and I'll be jogging.--If I were -you, I would stick to my sister; she's a very good girl, I hear; and -hang me, Bill, it's very well talking, but a good girl's a good girl, -you know, and a bad one's a bad one--there's no mistake. You that are -born a gentleman, too, I should have thought you'd something more of -it in you. Why didn't ye fly at the fellow's throat when he shewed you -the paper, and tear it all to pieces in a minute?" - -"I couldn't," said William Barham, who had been gazing down upon the -floor, with a look half sullen, half ashamed; "there was a table -between us, and I couldn't get at it." - -"If you could get hold of that," said Harry Martin, "the job would be -at an end, you know; you could do what you pleased. Can't you make him -shew it you again?" - -The boy shook his head. "It wont do, Harry," he said; "he keeps it in -a little pocket-book, with some other things; and I would have tried -to get it out of his pocket quietly, as Simes showed me how one day, -but you see it's an inside pocket, and I can't get at it." - -"Why, for that matter, one could cut his pocket off," said Harry -Martin; "and I shouldn't care if I had a hand in it; but we must have -two or three, and unless there was a good deal of tin to be had -besides, the men would not like to risk a trip to Botany, just to get -that note of yours. However, I'll think over it, and talk with some -other fellows about it, and perhaps we shall bring the thing right -after all. I'll take one more glass, and then I'll go." - -William Barham thought for a moment or two, and then said, "I'll tell -you what, Harry, when we find out where Helen is, he's sure to go down -into the country after her. Don't you think that one could do -something, as he goes? He has always lots of money about him, and that -gold snuff box which there was a piece of work about once with Bill -Jones, you know; and if he goes into the country for any time, his -dressing-case is worth a cool couple of hundred, just to make soup of, -as you call it. It's all gold and silver together." - -"What! a touch of the highway, as men used to have long ago?" said -Harry Martin. "But that's not so easy done now, my boy. We have -changed all that--trade has fallen off sadly too. I wish those days -would come again, for there's scarce a man of us keeps a horse now." - -"Why, you've got your horse and gig, Harry," said the youth. - -"Ay, but one can't stop a gentleman on the road with a horse and gig." - -"Very true," answered William Barham; "but if he were to go down into -the country, you could go after him, and make a smash of it." - -The man with whom he was talking, laughed, but seemed to think the -idea not a bad one. "We can't do it for nothing, Bill," he said; -"though if he puts up in a place where there's something to be got, -and the thing's easy, I shouldn't mind undertaking it, for your sake, -though I am not a cracksman, myself--especially if it's a good way -down in the country, for you see, there's not so much chance of being -pulled up for it. We could have the gig waiting, and after the job -was done, get in and drive thirty miles or so, and then take the -coach. All I can say is, if you choose to cut this business about your -sister entirely, and want really to get out of the fellow's power, -I'll help you as far as I can; so look out, there's a good boy, and -let me know; for hang me, if I like to see a poor girl bought and -sold, like a sheep in Smithfield!--And now, good night, Bill. I would -fain see you a free man again, for now you're no better than a -nigger-slave in the West Indies." - -Thus saying, he left him, and I will not pause to investigate and lay -bare all the curious combinations in the bosom of Harry Martin, which -produced his strange and anomalous notions of honour and dishonour, -honesty and dishonesty. It would be a very difficult task in his case, -and perhaps if we knew all, it would not be much less so in the case -of many men of far higher reputation--for too, too often, in this good -world, do we see the frauds to which they are accustomed, the -dishonest--ay, and criminal acts, which suit their purposes and -conveniences, placed in as strange contrast with better things in the -life of high and distinguished persons, "all honourable men," as the -habit of plundering was, with his notions in regard to Helen Barham, -in the breast of Henry Martin. The man who takes a solemn vow at the -altar, in the presence of his God, and breaks it ere three months are -over, would cut the throat of his dearest friend, if he called him a -liar; and yet, what is he? The politician, who, on the hustings, or on -the table, excites the passions of the people, vows that he is seeking -their own interests solely, when his object is place, or power, or -station; or he, who in his canvass promises all sorts of things that -he never can, and never will perform, what is he but a hypocrite? and -yet he would grin at you like a dog if you gave him his right name. I -could go on for an hour to shew how we felons of high station contrive -to render our notions of honour quite as compatible with crime and -dishonour, of the basest sort, as were the plundering habits of -William Barham's companion, with his indignation at the brother's -carelessness of the sister's honour. - -However, as I have said, I must not pause upon such things, for I fear -very much, with the slow rate at which my story proceeds, I may be -obliged to infringe the boundary which the customs of the present day -ascribe to the teller of a tale. Nor will I delay the reader with all -that took place between Lieberg and William Barham, previous to the -embarkation of the latter in the river Thames, for a long and distant -voyage. The whole business was conducted with the knowledge, and under -the eye, of Morley Ernstein. Money was furnished to him for all -necessary expenses, and Mr. Hamilton, who was now slowly recovering, -promised his interest, at Morley's solicitation, to obtain advancement -for the young man in the distant land to which he was going, if his -conduct during a couple of years justified the belief that he would -act honourably for the future. Before he embarked, he wrote a letter -to Helen, and gave it into Morley's hands to put upon it the right -address. Morley did so, and forwarded it himself, but no answer had -been received at the time the ship dropped down the river. - -Such were the principal events connected with the fate of William -Barham which took place in London; but I must now suddenly change the -scene, and beseech the reader to accompany me to a distant spot, and -take up his abode for a short space in a small room--for the inn had -no other but small rooms--in a house known by the distinctive -appellation of "The Sandown Castle," in the small town of Deal. - -It was night, and the wind had been blowing freshly from the westward -during the whole day; but as the sun went down it increased to a gale, -varying somewhat to the southward, with an unpromising blackness about -the sky in that quarter, mingling with the faint red of evening, in -the west and north. It was altogether as ominous and unpleasant a -night to commence a long voyage upon, as any one could wish to see; -and nobody whose destiny was not very well assured, would have chosen -the neighbourhood of the Goodwin Sands for his night's lodging on the -deep. Although the wind had got to the south, as I have said, the -night was one of those which are more generally met with in this -favoured climate than any other--that is to say, cold, raw, and damp, -in the very midst of the summer, giving us back all our recollections -of December in the heart of July. - -The room of which I have spoken in the little inn, had been made as -comfortable as possible, under existing circumstances. The table had -been well rubbed, to take out the marks of tumblers, imprinted in -rum-and-water; the windows had been opened to "air the room"--a -proceeding which, to say the truth, was not a little required, as a -dull and heavy atmosphere of tobacco-smoke and mixed spirits reigned -within, and seemed very ill-disposed to go out, either at door or -window, in that cold and boisterous night. There was a small fire, -too, in the grate, and once or twice, as the evening drew in and night -fell heavy over the world, a very genteel-looking personage, with a -foreign countenance, and a grave, sedate air, entered the room, looked -about him to see that everything was right, put this thing and that -thing in order; smoothing down a great coat, that hung over the back -of a chair, stirring the fire, arranging the furniture, and doing all -those little acts which give notice that some personage is expected, -for whom everything must be prepared in the nicest manner. - -At length, he shut the windows and lighted the candles, and in about -ten minutes after, a gentleman, dressed in the very height of fashion, -with a large blue military cloak, of the finest cloth, hanging from -his shoulders, entered the room, and advancing to the fire, gazed into -it for a minute or two in silence. The other personage whom we have -mentioned, stood at a respectful distance, without saying a single -word, till at length his master, for so it was, turned round and gave -him his hat and wet cloak, saying, "Here, Martini, take these, and -then go down to the beach. It is a terrible night, and I am uneasy -about the ship--one can see the surf running upon the sands quite -plain. There was a vessel too, apparently coming into the Downs, but I -could make nothing of it myself, and the jargon of these pilots I do -not pretend to understand. I suppose the boy will come ashore -directly, of course." - -"If he can, sir," replied the man, with a strong foreign accent; "but -I should not like to trust myself, I know, in an open boat, on such a -night as this." - -"There are several boats out," said Lieberg, for it was our friend who -spoke; and then making a sign for the man to leave him, he sat till -nearly eleven o'clock at night in that worst of all states of -idleness; the idleness of a strange inn, which is the next thing to -solitary confinement. Lieberg, on most occasions, had plenty of means -of employing and amusing himself, but at the present moment his mind -was evidently not at ease. He gazed during the greater part of the -evening into the fire, and one might have supposed that it was the -thought of being baffled in his pursuit, by the destruction of the -ship which bore William Barham, that troubled him, had not a word or -two escaped from his lips towards the end of the period we have -mentioned, which shewed that, in reality, some better feelings were -mingled with his emotions, and that it was about the youth himself, -and the risk he ran for the time, he was anxious. The words indeed, -dear reader, to which I allude, were all harsh, and, apparently, -unfeeling; but still they shewed that Lieberg was occupied rather with -the boy's fate than with his own plans and purposes. - -"Curse him!" he said, rising from his chair, towards eleven -o'clock--"he may as well die that way as any other. He would be -hanged, that's certain, sooner or later, if he escaped the water. So -it is as well if he be drowned after all. There is no reason for my -making myself uneasy about him. It might be as well, indeed, if he had -some other business in hand when called upon to join the world of -spirits; but I dare say, let him live as long as a patriarch, he would -be engaged in some rascality at the day of his death, and as well this -as anything else; so good bye to him!" - -Thus saying, Lieberg rang the bell and ordered supper to be brought, -of which, when it did appear, he partook moderately, and then retired -to bed, his valet having by that time returned without any tidings -whatsoever of William Barham, or the ship that bore him. If the truth -must be told, however, Lieberg did not sleep much, for while he was -undressing, a dull, distant peal came from the sea, loud, but heavy. - -"'Tis some ship firing for a pilot, sir," said his valet. - -Lieberg took out his watch and listened; ere the minute was quite -done, there came the roar of another gun, and then another, and -another. For near an hour the same sounds went on, when all became -still, except the rushing of the wind, and the heavy, thunder-like -fall of the sea upon the beach. Stoicism may do its utmost, but the -human heart generally finds a time to speak, and Lieberg was so -evidently uneasy, that his _valet de chambre_--who had about as -much feeling as that race of created beings generally have, and no -more--evidently saw that his master was very much more moved than was -usually the case with him, and went to bed, wondering what could be -the occasion thereof--that is to say, not asking himself exactly what -was the object of Lieberg's emotion, but what possibly could induce -him to give way to any emotion at all. - -Perceiving, however, that such was the case, and wishing, as all -well-disposed _valets de chambre_ are expected to do, to set his -master's mind at ease, his tap was heard at Lieberg's door towards six -o'clock on the following morning, and his voice exclaimed--"He is -arrived, sir! The ship has gone to pieces, but all the crew are -saved." - -Lieberg instantly started up, threw on his brocaded dressing-gown, and -opened the door. The man, who was standing there, pointed to the -sitting-room, which was on the opposite side of the passage, and his -master instantly crossed over and entered the room. - -Certainly never on earth did a more disconsolate object present -itself to the eyes of man, than that which was offered to Lieberg's -sight by the unfortunate William Barham. He was seated on a chair by -the fire--which had just been relighted and had not well burnt -up--without a coat or waistcoat; his long, silky, light hair drenched -with water, and hanging upon his cheeks and neck; his countenance, -previously pallid with licentiousness and habits of vice, now ten -times paler than ever, and purplish at the extremes, with the cold and -terror he had undergone; his eyes languid, his teeth chattering, and -his whole limbs trembling, while a bad cut upon his forehead, received -in getting into one of the boats, made him look still more miserable, -and a stain or two of blood oozing through the breast of his shirt, -shewed that he must have received some other blow upon the chest. - -Lieberg was truly moved by what he saw, and exerted himself -energetically to comfort and assist the unhappy young man. "Get a bed -ready, and have it warmed, immediately!" he exclaimed, addressing a -drowsy chambermaid, who was trying, by various pokes and thumps, to -irritate the cold-hearted coals, in the grate, into some degree of -warmth. "You, Martini, bring him some Madeira as quick as possible, -while I get him some dry clothes." - -The girl proceeded as slowly as possible, according to the usual -custom of such personages; but Martini sprang rapidly to obey his -master's orders, and Lieberg himself soon procured all that was -necessary for arraying the unfortunate youth in dry clothing, and -bringing some degree of warmth back into his chilled and exhausted -frame. A surgeon also was sent for, and, as soon as possible, William -Barham was placed in a warm bed, and received such treatment as the -man of art thought necessary in the existing circumstances. - -While this was taking place he said very little himself, only -answering in a monosyllable; and Lieberg asked but few questions for -the time. All that he thus learnt was, that the vessel had got well -out of the mouth of the Thames, and was making the best of her way -towards her destination, notwithstanding the Captain's previous -intimation that he would touch at Deal, when the change of wind had -forced him to try for an anchorage in the Downs, and, by some -mismanagement towards nightfall, the ship, instead of getting into a -place of security, had been driven upon the Goodwins, and become a -complete wreck. Though the gallant boatmen of Deal had done all in -their power, it had proved utterly impossible to save any one from the -wreck before daybreak. But then, with great difficulty, and at the -imminent risk of their own lives, the hovellers, as they are called, -had contrived to bring off the whole of the crew, except one or two, -who had been swept from the wreck during the night. Further -particulars were obtained by Lieberg in the course of the day; and -with the spirit of liberality which he always shewed, he contributed -largely to assist the unfortunate persons who had lost the whole of -their stores in the ship, and also to reward the brave fellows who had -saved their lives. - -Lieberg thus occupied himself during the day, and at night returned to -the inn, where his servant met him at the foot of the little stairs, -and communicated to him two pieces of intelligence, the latter of -which seemed to affect him the most. - -"He is up, sir," said the man in a low tone; "and in the sitting-room; -and he has received a letter from the post-office, addressed to -William Barham, Esq., in the ship Mary Anne.'" - -"In what sort of hand?" demanded Lieberg, eagerly. "Did you see the -post-mark?" - -"The hand was a very good one, sir," replied the valet. "The post-mark -was Doncaster." - -Lieberg started, and turned red. "Morley Ernstein's post-town!" he -exclaimed. "But nonsense!" he continued, after pausing for a moment, -"he is still lingering on in London. The thing cannot be. He must have -got somebody to receive her in the neighbourhood;" and with some -doubts still upon his mind, he mounted the staircase and entered the -room, where William Barham was seated over the fire, though by this -time the weather had become sultry to the feelings of every one else. - -"How hot the room is!" exclaimed Lieberg, as he entered. "Tell the -people to serve dinner as soon as possible.--Well, William, how do you -feel now?" - -"Very much bruised, and very cold," replied the youth, sullenly. "I -hear you have had a letter from your sister," said Lieberg, in a -quiet, easy tone. "Pray where is she now?" - -The man Martini was in the room; and it is probable that Lieberg -calculated upon the youth giving him an answer at once. But -William Barham still sat over the fire, without looking up, and -replied--"We'll talk about that by-and-by." - -"Leave the room, Martini," said Lieberg, adding, as soon as he was -obeyed--"Well, William, now, where is your sister?" - -The youth rose up from before the fire, and stood opposite to Lieberg, -pale, ghastly, and haggard, replying, boldly--"I do not mean to say I -do not know where my sister is, for I do, and I know too that you have -got me in your power; but before I tell you any more, or help you any -farther, I will have you promise me to settle something upon her, so -that she may never want." - -Lieberg gazed at him for a moment, with a dark, considering look, not -unmixed with contempt, and he then replied--"Make your mind easy, she -shall never want. Now answer my question, and quickly, for I do not -love being trifled with." - -The worm he trod upon turned against him, and the youth replied--"I -shall not tell you anything more, or help you any farther, unless you -give me some better assurance than that. I'll tell you what, Count; -last night in the storm, when I was clinging to the wreck, I thought I -heard Helen's voice in the wind, and this morning I have been thinking -of her ever since I woke; and I have made up my mind sooner to die -than to do anything farther, unless you will give me something, under -your hand, which will ensure that she shall never be walking about the -streets in misery, as I have seen some poor girls do." - -Lieberg frowned upon him darkly, with feelings that it may be best to -explain. We can only do so in part, it is true, for there was one dark -side of his character upon which we cannot throw light. Such -explanation, however, as we can give, we will. There had been -something in the beauty of Helen Barham--ay, in her innocence and -somewhat wild simplicity--which had struck and captivated him much. -Her talents, too, and tastes, were of a kind to attract him; and -though he had beheld her but once, he had seen quite sufficient to -show him that she was exactly the being for whom he had been long -seeking, to be his companion, his paramour, the object of passion, the -amusement of idle hours; to be sported with, conversed with, to be -lapped in luxury, spoiled, petted, and perhaps loved, but to be -dependent entirely upon his will--the slave of the Eastern harem, not -the wife of a civilized land. - -He saw all this in a moment, and had determined to obtain her: yet -perhaps he might have been diverted from the pursuit by any small and -ordinary obstacle, which did not pique his vanity or excite his -passions. The difficulties he had met with, however, had been the work -of human beings; he had been thwarted and opposed by those who seemed -inferior to himself; and every stumbling-block that he met with, every -barrier in his way, made him but the more resolute to overleap them -all, and to pursue his course with a degree of vehemence and passion, -which mere love for Helen Barham could not have excited in the short -space of time that he had known her. - -Determined to win her, and thinking that no sacrifice would be too -much for that object, he would not have hesitated, in the least, to -make any provision for her that was in his power, had it not been -dictated to him; but that her brother, who was bound hand and foot -before him, chained to his will, as a sinner to the power of -Satan--that he should turn and make conditions, excited the evil -spirit that reigned in him to the very highest pitch, and made him -reply, after gazing upon the youth darkly for a moment--"Very -well.--you would sooner die, would you? That is easy. I had better -send for a constable;" and he put his hand towards the bell, adding, -as he did so--"You make your own choice, young man; but do not let any -wild notions of romance enter into your head, and make you believe -that you can frustrate me. You will only be hanged yourself, and make -no change in your sister's fate, for I know that she is in the -neighbourhood of Doncaster as well as you do. So now I shall give you -into charge at once; then go down to see her, and return in time to -bear testimony to your merits at the trial:" and he rang the bell. - -The youth's resolution failed him; he gasped, as if he were half -strangled, exclaiming--"For God's sake--for God's sake, spare me!" and -thrust into Lieberg's hand--even as the landlord entered the room--the -letter which he had received from Helen Barham. - -Lieberg's lip curled, and grasping the letter tight, he turned round -to the landlord, saying--"Is not the dinner ready? I ordered it at six -precisely! What wine can you give me?" and he entered, in the calmest -tone possible, into a discussion upon things to be eaten and drunk, -which would not edify the reader to hear. - -After he had done, and the landlord was dismissed, Lieberg walked with -the letter to the window, read it attentively, took a note of one or -two things on some tablets, and then returned it to William Barham. - -"Mark one thing, my good young man," he said, "and recollect it well -in your future dealings with me--I am not a man to be dictated to. -Nothing was ever obtained from me by threat or opposition yet. What -you required for your sister just now, and I would not grant, because -you asked it in a high tone, I will now consent to, since you have -yielded obedience, and will give you a promise under my hand of that -which will always put your sister above need. Where is the paper I -gave you when we were in London? I will add it to that." - -The boy shook his head sadly, saying--"It is lost, with everything -else that I had, in that ship. You must write it on another piece of -paper." - -"That I will do at once," said Lieberg, drawing a writing-desk to him. -"Do not be cast down, my good youth, at your losses, I will soon -repair them amply if we succeed. But come, here is the dinner, and you -want some refreshment. I will write it afterwards. Sit down; what will -you take--some soup, or some fish?" - -The youth sat down to table with him, and Lieberg treated him with -kindness. But the reader learned in the human heart need not be told, -that William Barham hated him as much for his after-condescension as -he did for his previous tyranny. - -Lieberg kept his word. After dinner he wrote a promise, which was -quite as satisfactory to William Barham as such a promise could be: he -provided him also with all that was necessary for his comfort, while -weakness obliged him to remain in Deal, and gave him money to journey -to London as soon as he had taken some repose, charging him strictly, -however, to go to the house he had formerly inhabited, and keep -himself out of sight of Sir Morley Ernstein. Lieberg himself set off -early in the following morning for London, proposing to go down at -once to Doncaster, in pursuit of Helen, but hoping to return -successful ere many days were over. - -Not wishing his proceedings to be particularly remarked, and fearing -that he might meet some one in the coach who knew him, Lieberg had -come down to Deal in his own carriage, and in it he returned; but -scarcely was he gone, when William Barham demanded at what hour the -coaches started, and in less than half an hour after he also was on -his way to town, with feelings of hatred in his heart towards him who -had just left him, which were not without their fruit in due time. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - - -Wend back with me, dear reader, into that distant part of the country -where this tale first began; not exactly, indeed, to the same scene, -but to a spot about three or four miles from Morley Court, which you -have already heard of, under the name of Yelverly. The aspect of that -place, and of the whole country round it, was so peculiar, that I -should have wished to pause, and give some description of the house -and grounds, even if I had not been impelled to do so by the necessity -of the case. But there are things to come, which may render it -requisite that the reader's eye should be able to call up, like a -magistrate, each individual part of the scene before it, and examine -it strictly as a witness in regard to the events that are taking -place. Oh, those silent witnesses!--those trees, those shrubs, those -fields! those dark panels of the old oak chamber! those carved figures -and antique busts of ancient heroes!--oh, those silent witnesses in -every old domain! Could we but endow them with a voice, what tales -might they tell of merry or sad scenes in the long past; of secret -sins, and horrible treacheries; of human absurdity, folly, and vice; -of crime, of agony, and of despair! How might they, with their quaint -old legends, make the lips laugh, the bosom heave, and the eyes -overflow! - -The house of Yelverly was a curious old stone structure, of firm and -solid masonry, on which few repairs had taken place, for few had been -necessary, but which had been subjected to several alterations, as was -evinced by apertures blocked up here and there, and by the lines of -different coloured stone-work, which indicated that the tops of the -windows, which were now square, had once displayed pointed, or Tudor -arches. What the building had originally been I do not know, probably -some dependence of a monastery or abbey, in the neighbourhood. It had -never been large, though it now formed a roomy and convenient house -for a small family. But, notwithstanding its antiquity, and the -picturesque taste of the architects of the age in which it was built, -it had not one single pretension to beauty of any kind; sort, or -description whatsoever. It was grey, and cold, and flat, with the -windows apparently scattered over the face of it by accident, each -having been put in, beyond all doubt, wherever it was found -convenient; here, to light one room--there, to light another; at one -point to clear up the obscurity of a staircase--at a second, to let -the sun shine into a passage. - -As if to disfigure the front more completely, a penthouse had been -thrown out from one side, at the height or about ten feet from the -ground, covering an eighth part the building, and rendering the rooms -thus sheltered dull and sunless enough. The principal door would have -been as ugly as the rest of the house, had it not possessed an -old-fashioned stone porch, with a seat on either side, which, by no -means beautiful in itself, yet relieved the eye, in some degree, by -breaking the flatness of the building. - -Before the house, extended a long grass court, up which no carriage -could drive, and which was separated from a cross road that run in -front, by a wall about three feet high, surmounted by a row of tall, -thin, iron railings. The ornaments of the court were ten magnificent -old yew trees, forming, as it were, a sort of avenue from the gate in -the iron railing, up to the door of the house, the trees being ranged -at equal distances on either side, and a small path, formed of -dumpling-like stones placed edgeways, running between them. On either -side the court was flanked by a tall brick wall, and the only entrance -for a carriage was down a narrow lane at the side, which led by some -gates into a large paved court behind. It is true that Mr. Carr, -having quarrelled with all the gentry in the neighbourhood, and not -being particularly beloved by the great farmers, who had an idea that -he was fond of fomenting disputes, was seldom troubled with the -approach of curricle, or carriage, or one-horse chaise. But still that -lane was necessary and useful to him, as he was himself a skilful and -experienced agriculturist, though so avaricious, as often to injure -himself by grudging a load of manure where it was really necessary. - -The country round was of a very curious aspect. For more than a mile -on either side, it displayed chiefly fine old grass-land, separated -into fields of every size and shape by thick-set hedges, well kept, -but totally without trees. The scenery, though not at all mountainous, -or even hilly, might be called hillocky, for it was so undulating, -that if a field contained more than four acres, it was certain to have -in it both a hill and a valley; and through several of the latter ran -a clear trout-stream, giving great luxuriance to the grass, and -rendering it the finest pasture ground in the world. There was an air, -however, of bareness about the landscape, from the want of trees, -which accorded well with the bald antiquity of the old house, and on a -summer evening, when the sun was going down, and the slant beams -peered over the green uplands, one might sit in that stone porch, and -fancy oneself a yeoman of the olden time, so much did the ancient -aspect of the whole scene sink into the heart. - -It was on such a summer evening, then, that Old Carr, the miser--as he -was called in the neighbourhood,--walked forth between those black -yews with fair Helen Barham. Nature, who loves contrasts, and who -places the bright red berries amidst the dark green leaves, might well -be satisfied with the opposition of those two: Helen, as she came -forward, the picture of youth and grace and wild simplicity; and -Robert Carr, with age, and heaviness, and slow computation in all his -steps and looks. I have already described his personal appearance, and -have only to add, in that respect, that he seemed to the eye much more -aged when on foot than on horseback, as is very often the case. His -hair was not white, indeed, but it was very thickly mingled with grey, -and though he was not fat, yet, as I have said, he was heavy. His step -was deliberate and weighty, and his face, which had certainly once -been handsome, was marked with many lines, which one might have taken -for the traces of strong passions, had it not been for the thoughtful, -calculating expression of the countenance, which seemed utterly at -variance with passion of any sort but one. The greed of gain was -written there in characters easily read, though it also was of its -particular kind. It was more the eagerness of the beast of prey, than -the spirit of petty accumulation; nor was it alone the rapacity of the -wolf, for the subtlety of the fox was there also. - -The eyes were bent down upon the ground all the time he walked, but -the right eyebrow was raised up and down, as the feelings, called -forth by the conversation, produced any change upon his countenance, -and always, while he was listening, his upper lip was raised on the -opposite side, displaying a long, fang-like tooth, with much of the -look of a dog when one strives to take away a bone. He must have been -a tall man and powerfully formed, though now very much broken; and it -is said that he beat another attorney almost to death in the streets -of York, for having foiled him in an unjust suit. The other prosecuted -him, indeed, for an assault; but by some of the extraordinary -loopholes of the law, Robert Carr crept through the danger, and -escaped unpunished. - -He did not give his arm to Helen Barham as they walked, but held a -thick staff in his right hand, with which he steadied his steps, and -strove to give himself the appearance of youthful firmness. He had -shewn to Helen Barham so much kindness and courtesy since her arrival, -however, that she would have been very willing to pass over the want -of any small attention, even had she perceived it, which certainly she -did not; and, walking on beside him, with her bonnet loosely thrown -on, her rich hair clustering round her beautiful face, a look of -thoughtful sadness in her dark bright eyes, and a somewhat listless -grace in all her movement, very different from the wild buoyancy of -her step before she knew Morley Ernstein, she listened to the old -lawyer's questions, and gave him true and simple answers, with little -or no reservation, for he did not touch upon any of those points where -she might have felt some difficulty in framing her reply. - -"And so," said old Carr, "your brother is seventeen years of age." - -"Nearly eighteen," replied Helen; "his birthday is in December." - -"A cold month," said the lawyer--"mine is in October. And so you, left -him in London?" - -"Yes," replied Helen, "but he was very speedily to sail for the West -Indies." - -The old man started--"Sail for the West Indies!" he exclaimed. "Sail -for the West Indies! That is very unfortunate. What could make him -think of such a thing as that?--that is very unfortunate, indeed!" - -"Perhaps not so much as you imagine," said Helen, colouring, and -determined to meet the point at once, with the general truth, lest she -should be cross-questioned in regard to the particulars. "My poor -brother had got into very bad society, I am sorry to say, and some -kind and generous friends have obtained for him a small post in one of -those colonies." - -"He must come back--he must come back!" said the old lawyer. "I was -just going to bid you invite him down here. Do you think he is gone? -Are you sure he is sailed?" - -"By this time he certainly is," replied Helen. "In your kind -daughter's letter, which I received two or three days ago, she -informed me of the day that he was to sail, and enclosed to me a -letter from himself, confirming the same tidings, and bidding me write -to him at Deal, as that would be the last opportunity of communicating -with him ere his departure. I wrote yesterday, accordingly." - -"That is very unlucky," said the old man, "and now the post is gone -out. He must come back--he must come back!" - -"Nay," answered, Helen, somewhat surprised, and, to say the truth, -thinking the old gentleman verging towards dotage. "It will be better -for him, I believe, to stay where he is. You know that he has no means -of gaining his bread in England, and there at least he has a -provision." - -"I know--I know," said the lawyer, impatiently. "You are all poor--you -are all beggars--Juliet said so. But, I tell you, your brother must -come back--he is heir to a large property unjustly withheld from him, -and I will undertake to cause restitution. Why, I have got all the -papers myself! I did not know, till Juliet wrote, that your father had -any children; and your father himself was a fool, and would not let me -act for him; but would have suffered you both to live like beggars and -die on a dunghill, out of a mere idle whim. But your brother will be -wiser, and I will get back the estates for him, if he will give -me--give me ten thousand pounds." - -Helen smiled, and in gayer days, she might have laughed, though many -things that the lawyer had said had made her shrink as if he had put -his hand upon a wound. - -"Where is my brother to get ten thousand pounds, think you, Mr. Carr?" -she said. "We are, as you said, if not quite beggars, very nearly so, -and I think poor William would find it difficult to find ten thousand -pence." - -"I mean--I mean," cried Mr. Carr, "he shall give me ten thousand -pounds when I have got the property for him. I will stand all the -expenses in the meanwhile. Ten thousand pounds shall cover all, and he -shall give me a bond to pay it when I have got back the property for -him. I will be like the quack doctors--'no cure, no pay,' my dear Miss -Barham. Ha, ha, ha!" and he laughed aloud. "Why the thing is as easy -as possible," he continued; "the name is William Henslow Barham in the -deed, and his name was John." - -"John was my grandfather's name," said Helen--"that I know very well, -because I have his miniature set in gold, with the name at the back, -with the day of his birth, and his age when it was taken." - -"To be sure--to be sure," said old Carr, "his name was John. It was -your great grandfather's name that was William, and the drunken clerk -made a mistake in copying the old deeds. He shall have it back, every -inch of it, and Warmstone Castle and all; and you, my dear young -lady--why you will be a fortune. There is an old settlement, I know, -providing for younger children. There will be plenty of back rents to -pay, enough to beggar him, the coxcomb! Ha, ha, ha!" and again the old -lawyer laughed at some merry subject in his own breast. - -Helen, too, looked joyfully up, for the words of Mr. Carr awakened in -her bosom various memories of the past, and convinced her that, -whether he was right or wrong in the expectation of recovering a -fortune for her brother, there was not wanting a foundation for what -he said. She remembered, in her father's room, at the Rectory, an old -water-colour painting, dim with dust and age, but under which she had -often spelt, in early years, the words "Warmstone Castle, the seat of -John Henslow Barham, Esq;" and she remembered upon one occasion -hearing her father and a neighbouring clergyman commenting upon the -drawing, while she was standing near. Her father had then replied, in -answer to some question put by his friend, "How did we lose the -property? By the simplest process in the world. My father was a -prodigal, his son an honest man. That is the way that half the -properties in Europe are lost." - -The words had made an impression at the time, and Helen recollected -them now, so that she gained, in some degree, a clue to the old -lawyer's thoughts; and her heart, it must be owned, rejoiced; not for -her own sake, poor girl, but for the sake of her brother. Her fancy -was a lively one, and in an instant it presented to her mind's eye -that unhappy young man, freed from all the troubles and difficulties -in which he had placed himself, and--like him wit was afterwards the -victor of Azincourt--shaking from him the vices of his youth when -placed in a loftier station. - -I do not mean to say, that Helen thought not at all of herself; but -she thought of herself only for a moment, and then shrunk away from -the ideas that imagination conjured up. She could not but feel that it -would be a joy and satisfaction--perhaps I might call it, more -properly, a consolation, placed as they were at that moment--to meet -Morley Ernstein, even for a brief space, as his equal in worldly -gifts; and yet there was a voice whispered at the bottom of her heart, -that there could never be anything like pride in her bosom towards -him. Oh, could he but have loved her, how willingly would she have -been the creature of his bounty--dependent upon him for everything on -earth! From his hand she could have received all, and enjoyed all that -she did receive, because it was he that gave it! - -She would not pause upon such things--she dared not; and though she -mused for several minutes over the various pictures called up, she -soon returned to a consciousness of the questions which Mr. Carr was -asking her, and to which for a time, she had returned but irrelevant -answers. She promised immediately to write to her brother urging him -to return; or, at least, to tell him the facts, and let him return if -he thought fit; and the conversation soon led to her own recollections -of former times, in regard to which Mr. Carr cross-examined her as if -she had been a witness at the Old Bailey. - -There was something, however, Mr. Carr suffered to appear, which -surprised and puzzled Helen in some degree. His words led her to -imagine that her father had known fully that a fortune of considerable -amount was due to himself and his children, but that on some account -he had refused, or neglected to claim it. Helen enquired why, and more -than once during their walk pressed Mr. Carr upon the subject. That -gentleman would give her no distinct information, however, sometimes -saying that it was a whim, sometimes saying that it was laziness; but, -in truth, Mr. Carr did not choose to tell Helen that it was a -conscientious scruple which had prevented Mr. Barham from pursuing the -course pointed out by his legal adviser. There was something in the -truth and simplicity of that sweet girl's heart which was formidable -to knavery; and Mr. Carr at once understood that there would be -difficulties with her which might not exist in the case of her -brother, and he therefore avoided the question altogether. - -They strolled on slowly till it was nearly dusk and then returned -towards the house, still conversing on the same subject, when, as they -approached the front gate, walking over the crown of one of the little -hilly fields in the neighbourhood, Mr. Carr's eyes were astonished and -dazzled by the sight of a very handsome carriage standing opposite the -iron railings, with two post-horses, hot and panting with a long -stage. - -"Who can that be?" said the old lawyer. "Thank God, I have not seen -fools in gilded carriages for a long time! It must be either for you, -Miss Barham, or there must be some mistake." - -"Perhaps it is Morley Ernstein!" thought Helen Barham; but she did not -speak it, for that was a name which deep feelings in her own bosom had -prevented her from uttering once to the cold ear of Mr. Carr; and now, -the very thought of Morley, probably, being there, made her heart -flutter violently. - -There was a servant out of livery standing at the carriage door, but -no one was in the inside of the vehicle, and the iron gate was open. -In the porch of the house, too, through the avenues of yews, could be -seen one of Mr. Carr's maid-servants, as if looking out for his -return; and, as soon as they were within hearing, the girl exclaimed, -in a jargon, which I shall not attempt to transpose to these -pages--"There's a gentleman, sir, in the drawing-room, waiting to -speak with Miss Barham upon business." - -"Business!--Let me go in with you, Miss Barham," said the old lawyer; -"perhaps my advice may be of use." - -And as Helen saw no reasonable objection to be offered, she did not -object, though she would rather have gone in alone. Her heart -throbbed, and her knees somewhat trembled, but nobody could have -perceived her agitation in the easy, graceful step in which she -advanced towards the door of the drawing-room. - -When she entered, however, all agitation ceased, though not surprise, -for the person who came forward to meet her, with calm and tranquil -aspect, was no other than Colonel Lieberg, who had been standing near -the table, with his hat in his hand, waiting for her arrival, and -affecting to look over an old illustrated copy of Bunyan's "Pilgrim's -Progress," which the lawyer, from some unaccountable motive, would -always have in a conspicuous part of the drawing-room. - -"My dear Miss Barham," said Lieberg, taking her hand, with a smile, -which certainly was as bright and engaging as any that ever crossed a -mortal lip--"I dare say you are surprised to see me here; but, having -obtained your address from your friends in London, I came hither with -all speed from Doncaster, where I had some business to transact, -knowing that you must be very anxious about your brother." - -Helen glanced her eye to Mr. Carr, who was now entering the room, and -lest Lieberg should suffer the secret of her brother's conduct to -escape, she introduced the Count to her host, saying, "Colonel -Lieberg--Mr. Carr;" and then immediately added, "I heard from my -brother, sir, the other day. He wrote me a letter which quite relieved -my apprehensions regarding him. I am very much obliged to you, indeed, -however, for the kind trouble that you have taken. Pray sit down." - -While she had been speaking, Lieberg with cool effrontery had measured -Mr. Carr from head to foot with his eye, and returned his bow with a -cold and stately inclination of the head. He turned to Helen, however, -as soon as he had done so, saying--"I imagine from your words that my -visit has been more useful than I expected, dear Miss Barham, for I -have outrun bad news that might have alarmed you." - -Helen turned somewhat pale; for the idea of her brother having -committed some fresh crime or folly was the first that imagination -presented. Lieberg, however, who marked each variation of her cheek, -hastened to relieve her. - -"Do not be frightened," he said, "the danger is all past now. Your -brother is well, and in safety; I left him at Deal, two days ago, but -he was soon to follow me to London. The vessel he was in was wrecked -upon the Goodwin Sands." - -Helen clasped her fair hands together, and looked up to heaven, in -Lieberg's eyes more beautiful than any object that he had ever beheld -on earth. Had he dared, he would have thrown his arm round her, -carried her, willingly or unwillingly, to the carriage at the gate, -and bade the postilion drive anywhere on earth, so that he might -secure possession of her. Such were the feelings which had grown up in -his heart under the influence of opposition and disappointment; but, -as is too usual, his demeanour was the most opposite that it is -possible to imagine. - -"Come, my dear young lady, sit down," he continued, "and do not let -this matter agitate you. Poor William certainly has had a very narrow -escape, and remained all night upon the wreck with the sea washing -over him; but he was much better when I left him, though somewhat -bruised and chilled." - -"Poor boy!" exclaimed Helen. "Oh! how I wish I could be with him!" - -"That is what I was about to propose," said Lieberg, in a quiet, easy -manner. "I think it would be better for you to be with him, for he -really needs some nursing, and a sister's care and tenderness may make -the difference of life and death to him." - -"Good God!" cried Helen--"what shall I do? There is no one to take -care of him there!--The very maid I have taken with me--" - -"Nay," answered Lieberg, "do not suppose that I would leave him -without aid, Miss Barham, if not on his own, on your account. I would -not act such a part, believe me. I left him attended by a skilful -surgeon, with plenty of money and every convenience; and in London I -gave directions to my own servants to watch for his arrival in town, -and treat him as if he were my own brother. You think me very -hard-hearted and unkind, I see." - -"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Helen, clasping her hands again: "God in -heaven will bless you! I will pray to him to bless you for your -kindness and humanity to that poor boy." - -A dark shade came over Lieberg's countenance, as it had done once -before when Helen had used nearly similar expressions; but some words -she added immediately afterwards, changed his feelings, whatever they -were, making him believe himself on the point of succeeding to a -greater extent than he had even dared to hope would be the case so -speedily. - -"What shall I do?" exclaimed Helen. "I wonder what I ought to do?" - -Lieberg paused for a moment, not to seem too eager, and then -replied--"I cannot think that you will hesitate, dear Miss Barham. -Your brother wants much tendance and care, and--" - -"Go, my dear young lady--go!" said Mr. Carr, much to Lieberg's -surprise, at finding so unexpected an ally. "His life is infinitely -valuable just now; and as you ought not to travel alone, I think I -will go with you. We will have post-chaise over to Doncaster -to-morrow, and then take the coach to London." - -Lieberg's countenance fell, and his expectations likewise. He laid a -strong curse upon the old man in his own mind, and still more so, when -Mr. Carr, with the sarcastic bitterness he sometimes displayed, -added--"Colonel Lieberg would doubtless have much pleasure in -escorting you but I think my plan is the most proper one." - -Lieberg was instantly upon his guard, and he replied--"Most certainly, -my dear sir; and though I should have been very happy to escort Miss -Barham, yet I could scarcely have done so to-morrow, as I have -business of importance to transact at Doncaster. There is one little -matter I have to settle with you also, Mr. Carr," he continued; "you -are, I think, the proprietor of the manors of Yelverly and Maxtown, -and wish to let the sporting for the next year?" - -Mr. Carr's face assumed quite a different aspect; he smiled graciously -upon Lieberg, and replied that such was certainly the case. He had -long given up shooting himself, he said--his family required very -little game; it annoyed him to deal with poachers continually; and -therefore he always liked to let his manors when possible; that the -two years' lease of them had lately fallen in, and the gentleman who -had before taken them, being but a poor, second-rate sort of man, had -not been able to keep them on. There could not be better manors in -Europe, he continued. There were the finest covers it was possible to -see; the best partridge-ground in Europe; trout-streams, where the -fish jostled each other in the river; and moors, the higher parts of -which were actually swarming with grouse and black game. - -Lieberg appeared charmed with the account, regretted that it was too -late to take a canter over the ground that afternoon, but added, that -he would return the next morning to see them, that he might know how -the ground lay. He imagined, he said, that he could not find an inn -without either returning to Doncaster or going on to Bingley, and he -should prefer the latter, as it was much nearer, and there were also -two manors there which he had heard of, and which he could see early -in the morning, before he returned. - -Now, Lieberg had taken care to get plenty of good information at -Doncaster, and knew perfectly well that, in a sporting point of view, -the manors at Bingley were infinitely preferable to those of Mr. Carr. -Mr. Carr was very well aware of the same fact, and, bent upon taking -in Lieberg to hire the sporting of his manors, instead of the better -ones a little further on, he was himself taken in to ask Lieberg to -stay the night, which was all that his visitor wanted. It may seem -that he employed a complicated man[oe]uvre to obtain that end, but in -truth it was a very simple one, with a man who knew the facts, and saw -profoundly into the heart, as Lieberg did. - -Mr. Carr assured him that, after the manors of Yelverly and Maxtown, -the two manors at Bingley were not worth his seeing. He took down the -county map, and demonstrated to him that the estates could not be -compared for a moment, with as much ease as any other falsehood can be -demonstrated when there is nobody to contradict it. If Coronel Lieberg -would do him the honour of taking a bed at Yelverly, they could very -easily ride over the manors in the morning, before it was necessary -for himself and Miss Barham to set off for Doncaster. The coach from -York was late ere it passed, he said, and they had plenty of time -before them. - -Lieberg, on his part, affected to be afraid of putting Mr. Carr to -inconvenience--there was his servant, too; he really thought he had -better go on to Bingley for the night. But Mr. Carr was determined -that such should not be the case--a bed could be found for the -servant, too. His calculation was, that the whole expenses of -Lieberg's stay, even if his servant had beer and meat for supper, and -the Count himself took a glass of wine before he went to bed, could -not amount to four shillings, while, if he missed the opportunity of -letting his shooting for two years, it might be a couple of hundreds -of pounds out of his pocket, besides all the expenses of gamekeepers, -lookers, etc. The matter, then, was at length arranged, the -post-horses sent away, Lieberg's carriage placed in the yard, and his -valet, with his goods and chattels, brought into the house. - -The Count very soon suffered to appear, without saying so directly, -how much he proposed to give for the shooting he desired, and from -that moment Mr. Carr's civilities knew no bounds. Tea was sent for, -and Helen Barham presided over the "odoriferous infusion," as some -gentleman, prodigal of fine words, has called it; while Lieberg, -seating himself by her side, put forth all his powers of fascination, -which, as we have before informed the reader, were anything but small. -He had a peculiar habit of fixing his large dark eyes, with all their -deep, intense light, upon the persons to whom he spoke, not with what -is termed a stare, or anything that could be looked upon as rude or -annoying; but with a sort of thoughtful interest, as if that glance -established a communication between his soul and theirs, making -thought answer to thought, before any words were spoken. There was -something overpowering in it, especially when he used all his -exertions to please, as he did this night; and, in truth, as he sat -there, gazing on the lovely face of Helen Barham, it might well put -one in mind of the serpent fascinating the bright birds of the warm -climates of the south, by the lustre of his dangerous eyes. - -In this case, however, the bird had a talisman which set such magic at -defiance; and, though there was in his whole conversation and -demeanour, that mingling of sportiveness and depth; that appearance of -pride bent down to please, of confident reliance on innate powers of -mind, yet deference to the opinions of the being spoken to; that light -and sparkling brilliancy, which seems merely the sport of strength; -that combination of all things, in short, which are engaging--except -the heart--though the manifold expressions that he brought over his -fine and striking countenance rendered the beauty thereof more marked -and attractive; though every movement was full of grace and -gentlemanly suavity--though all those small cares and little -attentions, which win so much upon the heart of woman, seemed as -familiar to him as any of the daily acts of life, yet upon Helen -Barham the whole had no more effect than to make a few hours pass -pleasantly, and occupy her somewhat sad and wandering thoughts. -Reader, she was in love with another! - -What was the effect upon Lieberg himself? His arts recoiled and -wounded him; her beauty, her grace, her talents, her enthusiasms, all -struck and captivated him more than he had ever been with any other -mortal being; but, strange as it may seem, her indifference attracted -him more than all. He saw it--he could not help seeing it. There was -something to conquer, and he resolved to conquer it. But how?--that -was the question. It mattered not! Lieberg was one who had few -scruples of any kind. "Once she be mine," he thought, "I will soon -teach her to love me. First let me overcome her, and the rest will be -easy enough." - -I have said that Lieberg's presence and conversation made the hours -pass pleasantly to Helen Barham. It cannot be denied that such was the -case, and that she certainly thought him one of the most gentlemanly -and agreeable men she had ever met with, though nothing more. She grew -much more cheerful, however, under this influence, and was prevailed -upon, ere the evening came to an end, to sit down to Juliet's piano, -and sing one of those songs for which her full rich voice was -peculiarly adapted. It was at Mr. Carr's request that she did so, and -he named a song that he had heard his daughter sing. - -Helen had sung it many a time before; and she sat down without -dreaming that either the words or the music would touch her in the -least; but the changes that are within us affect the influence of all -external things upon ourselves, fully as much as the changes of -external things affect our feelings. Since last she had sung that -song, there was a new spirit in the breast of Helen Barham, and a new -sensation--love and hopelessness. In the stormiest hours of former -days she had not given way to despair; though the spot on which she -stood was ever so dark, there had been bright hopes lighting the -future. But now, the cloud hung above the coming days--dark, -impenetrable, gloomy; and if we could make a distinction between -hopelessness and despair, we might say that the former was her state, -rather than the latter. Thus it was she herself was changed, and yet -the song seemed entirely altered to her. It spoke to her heart; it -seemed to thrill through her bosom; it was like the voice of her own -sorrows poured forth whether she would or not; and the very feeling -with which she sang, the expression she gave to each note, acted upon -herself even more than upon those that heard her, and made the tears -rise in her eyes, and well nigh overflow when she had done. - -The song had a great effect upon Lieberg, too; it made him sad, though -it excited him; it seemed like the voice of an angel singing to a -fallen spirit, mourning over his degradation and loss, and drawing -from his heart tears of regret, though not of repentance--the glow of -shame, though not of contrition. For, as the inspired writer -says--"There is a shame that bringeth sin; and there is a shame which -is glory and grace." There were moments with him, as with all others -like him, when he felt the bitterness of wrong, but without even a -dream of turning unto right; and one of the times at which that -feeling was most strong upon him was when he heard plaintive -music--not the music of the opera, of the concert, or the oratorio, -for those are places in which it is easy to cast aside one's heart, -and become the mere connoisseur, but the song sung in private, the -piece of music played by a delicate hand, and breathing softly to the -ear, like the low, still voice of conscience, or like the tongue of -memory, speaking to us of early days--of innocence--and of peace. - -Such was the case now; and when Helen had done, when she had turned -away till the drops had disappeared from her eyelids, and looked round -again, she saw Lieberg sitting with his head bent thoughtfully -forward, his eyes fixed sadly upon the ground, and his whole attitude -and look displaying deep and sad abstraction. Had Helen's affections -been free, that would have been the moment in which Lieberg would have -made more impression upon her than at any other, for the widest door -of woman's heart is pity, and he seemed sorrowful. - -The effect soon passed away with the whole party, and not long after, -Mr. Carr left the room for a moment, to see for some supper, as he -expressed it. Strange to say, Lieberg was agitated; he, the calm, the -composed, the immovable, felt shaken in a way that he had never known -in all his earthly course before; and angry at himself for what he -called such weakness, he at length drew a little nearer to Helen's -side--who, as if placed in stronger opposition than ever to him, was -not in the least degree agitated or embarrassed and said--"Dear Miss -Barham, I wish very much to obtain a few minutes' private conversation -with you." - -Helen looked a little surprised, but answered with a degree of -calmness that provoked him--"Certainly!--I suppose about my brother, -of course--I hope there is nothing worse concerning him to be told me, -Count Lieberg!" - -Lieberg resolved to keep her imagination at work, and he -replied--"Nothing worse exactly, but still something of much -importance." - -"Can you not tell me now?" she asked, eagerly; but ere he could reply, -Mr. Carr returned, and did not quit the room again, till Helen Barham -rose and proposed to retire to rest. - -Lieberg and M. Carr sat for about a quarter of an hour after she was -gone, and the Count then was shewn to his room, which he found a very -comfortable one; while the display of all his dressing apparatus had -given it even an air of splendour, notwithstanding the dimity -curtains, and the plain Kidderminster carpet. The valet, Martini, was -still busy, arranging everything in the place, when Lieberg entered, -and the Count having made him take out some writing materials, sat -down, and wrote-- - -"Dear Miss Barham--Will you kindly write underneath, merely in pencil, -at what time to-morrow I can have a few minutes' conversation with you -alone, upon the subject that we mentioned?" - -"There, take that!" he said, folding up the paper, "and find out Miss -Barham's maid directly; bid her give it to her mistress, and let me -have an answer." - -The valet took the note, and disappeared. Helen's toilette for the -night was well nigh done, and she was on the point of seeking her bed, -when she received it; and, guileless and innocent herself, without a -thought of evil, she wrote underneath the lines sent by Lieberg, in -pencil, "Whenever you like.--Helen Barham." - -When the note was brought back, Lieberg gazed at it with a keen, -triumphant look, though his cheek was pale with intense feeling. - -"Do you know which is Miss Barham's room?" he said, addressing the -valet. - -"The one at the end of the corridor, sir," said the man; "that on the -right; the opposite door leads to a store-room, I find." - -"And where do you sleep yourself, Martini?" said Lieberg. - -"I sleep just above Miss Barham's room, sir," replied the man. - -"Get a horse early to-morrow," said Lieberg; "go over to the -post-office at Doncaster, and let me have my letters before eleven." - -The man bowed, and very little further conversation took place, while -Lieberg undressed, and retired to bed. His last words were, "Leave the -light burning." - -As soon as the man was gone, Lieberg rose from his bed again, -carefully cut the sheet of note-paper on which he had written to Helen -in two, separating the part containing his enquiry from Helen's reply, -burnt the former part, and then gazed steadfastly upon the other, -repeating--"Whenever I like! whenever I like!--I like this very -night!--This shall justify me;" and putting the paper into his desk, -he extinguished the light, and retired to bed again, but not to sleep. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - - -For a short space we must not only leave sweet Helen Barham in the -house of Yelverly, but Lieberg, with all machinations in his head, and -turn to schemes of a different kind, and at a different spot. It was -in the back room of a low public house that, on the very day which -witnessed Lieberg's arrival in London from the town of Deal, there sat -together four as powerful and determined-looking fellows as ever -perhaps met, with a view of consulting upon the grand purpose of -cutting a purse, or proving that there are other people, as well as -the little god of love, who can laugh at locksmiths. In the chair--for -it will always be found, in civil and political matters alike, that -the meetings which assemble for the purpose of setting all laws and -regulations at defiance, must have their laws and regulations -likewise--in the chair of this gallant and respectable assembly, was -placed that worthy gentleman, Harry Martin, whom we have had the -honour of bringing before our readers on more than one occasion. On -his right was a gentleman who was delivering himself with a great deal -more eloquence than is usually met with, either on the hustings or the -Commons House of Parliament--though, like the oratory of those places, -his had its peculiar characteristics, which suited it to the auditory -who were to hear it--he was delivering himself, I say, of a speech, to -which I can only do partial justice, both from a want of a thorough -knowledge of the copious tongue in which it was composed; and also -from lack of space to give all the figures of rhetoric, the tropes, -the metaphors, the similes, with which it was ornamented. The tendency -of the speech, however, was to incite his hearers to undertake a great -enterprise; and an expedition against Carthage, or a war against -Philip, was never debated with more vehemence and animation. - -"I'll tell you what, Simes," he said--"you think that Martin and I do -this out of regard to Bill Barham; but I tell you it is no such thing. -I do it only because I think that such good luck does not fall in a -man's way every day. Did you ever see a blackbird, on a sunshiny -morning, sitting upon a bough, and singing as quietly as I might do at -the club? Well, if he sees a great fat worm wriggle out his head, down -he pounces upon him, and never ceases pulling till he has got him all -out of his hole. Well, I am the blackbird, and this Old Miser Carr is -the worm. I have sat cherupping here in London for a long while, till -I got scent of this old fellow, and now I'll pounce upon him just like -a sparrow-hawk upon a ground-lark. We will get help enough, if you -don't like to go; it's not every man that has the same liberality of -feeling as you think you have, to refuse his share of four or five -thousand pound, just for a little bit of a smash that can be done in a -minute, and we can be all over to Sheffield again, and then to London, -before any one knows that we have been in the place at all. If the -thing were to be done near town, I would not press it upon you, -gentlemen, for there's all the risk in the world of being trapped, if -we do such things too near home. But down there it's easy to do, and -not easy to discover; and when four or five thousand pound is to be -got, it's worth the touch of a crow-bar, or ten minutes' work with the -centrebit." - -"Ay, but there's the job!" cried the man he called Simes; "I want to -be made sure that the thing's worth the journey. I can pick up a nice -little living here in London, without going down into Yorkshire, and -perhaps getting myself hanged into the bargain; so let me be sure, I -say, that there is this tin, or I shall say, I would rather be -excused. I am not fond of eating an empty pudding, and do not -particularly like the cordwainer's company. I don't choose to be made -a freeman of it, and wear the riband upon the jugular; not that I am -afraid, when there's anything really to be done, but I should like to -know more about the money first." - -"Why, as for that, Mr. Simes," observed a stout man, with a hawk's -nose, on his right hand; "you see I knew the country well enough, not -long ago, when I used to do a little with the thimbles, at Doncaster. -You may recollect that we, one time, had an engagement with the other -gentlemen of the course; but they were too much for us, and drove us -off with the butt ends of their horsewhips, and then we scattered -about the country. Well, I had a gossip with one of the maids there, -and sold her some real French muslin, which I picked up at York, and I -asked her all about her master, Old Carr; the miser, as they called -him in those parts, and she said he was prodigious rich, and never had -less than two or three thousand pounds in the house, besides lots of -plate." - -"You hear, Simes," said Harry Martin; "so you see, whatever you may -think, we don't stand only upon what Bill Barham says, because Bill -does not know whether the man's rich or poor, and only knows that he's -called Carr, the miser. However, you shan't want for full information; -Bill has promised to bring some one with him here to-night who knows -the whole place, and the people round about, for he was the Squire's -groom at Bingley, which is close by. His name's Andrews, and he's now -in another way of business, as a horse-dealer--and has done a clever -thing or two." - -"Oh, yes," replied Simes, "I know him very well--a pleasant gentleman -he is. He sold old Major Groundsell the same horse three times over; -first, as a black horse, with not a spot of white about him; then with -the two fore feet white; and then he shaved him, docked him, and made -another creature of him; but the Major could never ride him first nor -last." - -"No, nor anybody else," said another of the men present, "for he was a -plunger, a bolter, and a rearer, and when he couldn't get you off he -went over with you." - -"A pleasant chap to be on the outside of," said Harry; "but let us -have some more lap. Mr. Simes, may I trouble you to ring the bell. Oh, -here comes Bill, and Mr. Andrews too! Mr. Andrews, good evening to -you--I hope you're well, sir." - -Various civilities now took place between the whole party, for the -meeting was evidently a formal one, and gentlemen of that class are -generally much more ceremonious on such occasions than people who -consider themselves better bred. Fresh supplies of drink were brought, -and as soon as the room was again clear, the subject matter of the -debate was once more brought forward, and the account given by Mr. -Tony Andrews was so conclusive, that even the cautious soul of Mr. -Simes was fired with generous ardour, and it was determined, nem. -con., that the thing should be undertaken. As soon as this was -settled, William Barham--who occupied a seat by the side of -Harry Martin, but a little behind the general line, not being one of -the active participators in the enterprise--whispered a word or two in -his friend's ear, who immediately pronounced a new oration upon the -occasion. The tendency of the harangue was to shew the absolute -necessity that there existed of setting about the thing at once; but -in this, Martin met with no opposition whatsoever, for every man -present was a veteran in his profession, and knew well that in great -undertakings promptness of execution is only secondary to maturity of -deliberation. - -"I'm ready this minute," said Simes--"I only want to go home to get a -tool or two." - -"And I think there's no time to be lost either," said the man with the -hook nose. "But," continued he, turning his left eye downward, and -looking with that orb alone into the bottom of his glass with an air -of deliberate wisdom--"but how are we to go? If we four get upon the -mail together, the guard will be in such a fuss about his bags, that -he'll blow who we are, all the way down. Then, I think, Harry, you -talked of your mare and the gig; but your mare can't run half the way, -and the gig wont hold four, though I've seen you put three into it, -and bad enough it looked." - -"Oh, I'll lend you a phaeton for one horse," cried Mr. Andrews--"and -if Mr. Martin can make him run forty miles before this time to-morrow, -I'll give you a note to a friend of mine at ----, who will contrive to -horse you on. You see, gentlemen, I shall expect a trifle--not so -much, in course, as if I went out of town myself, but say a tenth, and -upon honour." - -The claim was agreed to, upon the condition of the horses being all -ready and no mistakes made; and then the gentleman with the beak again -brought his peculiar eye to bear upon the lump of sugar at the bottom -of the tumbler, and remarked--"What I said myself, just now, gives me -a good hint. Suppose we were to get Jerry Knowles and Sam Harrison -to----" - -"Oh, that will never do," cried Mr. Andrews, who was a man that stood -upon his reputation, "those gentlemen have such a bad character that -we must not bring them into the business, for there's always somebody -looking out after them." - -"That's the very reason," said the other. "You gentlemen from -Yorkshire are so quick, that you see gooseberries upon cherry trees. -These are the very men who ought to be employed for what I mean. The -worse, the better for my purpose. We put dung upon a field, to make it -bear, not ice cream. What I mean to say is, that everything is good in -its way, and these gentlemen, though they certainly have gained -themselves a reputation, may very well serve my purpose." - -"Well, well! what is it?" exclaimed Harry Martin, impatiently, for he -loved long speeches in nobody's mouth but his own. "Speak out, and let -us hear!" - -"It is," answered the hook-nosed man, "that they should be sent down -by coach to Doncaster, with a promise of a five-pound note each, if -the thing answers. They can go down by coach, you know, and be absent -for a day or two, and go back again, taking care to get into mischief, -and to have proof of where they were." - -"Oh, I understand--I understand!" cried two or three voices at once. - -"As a blind," said Harry Martin--"a devilish good plan; and then if -they get into the brown jug, we must give them a trifle more." - -Some farther conversation in the same strain took place; and then -Harry Martin said in a low voice to William Barham--"But what share -are you to have, Will?" - -"Not a farthing," answered the boy eagerly, "not a farthing. If you -get me those papers that's all I care about. He always carries them in -a Russia leather pocket-book, in a pocket inside his coat. It is a -brown pocket-book, you know, with a steel spring and clasp." - -"But are you sure he is there?" asked Martin. - -Bill nodded his head, saying, in a low tone--"Helen is there, and -he'll find a way to fix himself where she is. But the papers are all I -want." - -"Well, well, you shall have them," answered Harry; "and if I find the -fellow himself, I'll put my mark upon him. Now, Simes, you get your -tools, and I'll get mine and have the horse in the phaeton before a -couple of hours are over. Let's all meet and have a little supper here -at ten o'clock, and then we can drive out pleasant by the moonlight." - -The rest of their arrangements were soon settled, and the party -separated; William Barham returning to his own abode, where he -remained for several days, waiting, with no light anxiety, to hear the -result of an enterprise which was first devised for his benefit. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - - -No sleep visited the eyes of Everard, Count Lieberg. He heard people -moving about, doors opened and closed, and various other sounds, for -near an hour. Then all was silent, and remained so for another hour. -At the end of that time he raised himself upon his elbow and listened, -struck his repeater, which gave him half-past one; lay down for about -a quarter of an hour more, with his head resting upon his hand, and -then started, at hearing sounds again. A muttered curse broke from his -lips, and he sat up, endeavouring to distinguish what could be the -occupation of the person who was watching, and busy at that "very -witching time of night." He could make nothing of it, however, for his -ear only caught a low whirring sort of sound, very much like that of a -watch running down. He thought he heard some people speaking or -whispering also in the court, and rising from his bed he threw on his -dressing-gown, drew back the curtain of his window, and looked out. - -It was a bright and beautiful moonlight night as ever was seen. One -could almost distinguish the blades of green grass in the turfed court -below; but Lieberg could perceive nothing of any human being. He -found, indeed, that the penthouse of the large shed, which I have -mentioned as disfiguring the front of the building, came nearly up to -the window of his room; and he concluded that the noise he heard must -proceed from some of the early farm servants, busily at work in those -agricultural mysteries which he himself did not understand. By this -time, however, the sound had ceased, and another kind of noise -succeeded for a moment, which also came to an end, and then all was -quiet. - -Silence maintained her reign for about a quarter of an hour, during -which time Lieberg gazed out upon a scene which was well calculated to -afford high and holy thoughts, had his been a breast to receive them. -The beautiful orb, which, like woman's love to man, follows this -earthly sphere through all its wandering course, was shining bright -and pure, in her highest glory. The green lawn, the dark yew trees, -the sloping upland, the well-trimmed hedges, caught the rays as they -fell, and deep shadows, like those which must ever fall to the eye of -memory over various spots in the past, when we look back from the end -of a long life, were cast over the turf from every rising object. -Round about, at a distance from their queen, in the blue heaven,--for -those that were near were swallowed up in her light,--the bright -attendant stars filled up the glory of the sky, and spoke to man's -heart of the majesty of that God who made a thousand worlds, and yet -bows himself to regard the lowest being on the earth. - -Such, however, were not the thoughts with which Lieberg gazed. We -shall not, indeed, attempt to penetrate them; they were deep -inscrutable, and would do no good to the mind of any one. Suffice it, -that as his eye strayed upon the dark blue expanse, and seemed -shooting back rays to the bright orb above him, a dark shadow came -upon his brow, his lip curled, his head was raised higher than before, -his chest expanded, as if with some struggle within him. Indeed, it -would seem that he heard some warning voice, and succeeded in drowning -it in the clamour of pride and passion, for he muttered to himself as -he turned from the window--"So hypocrites would tell us, and so fools -would yield!" - -He left the curtains open, and with a quiet and steady step, walked -towards the door. As he did so, however, and as his hand was actually -upon the lock to open it, he thought he heard a faint cry, and paused -for a minute to listen. "Busy imagination!" he said, finding the sound -was not repeated; and he opened the door. - -All was dark, but the moonlight, which streamed through his room, -crossed the corridor and gave a faint light. There was a sudden step -heard in the passage, and Lieberg instantly drew back; but before he -could shut the door, or see what was coming, he received a heavy blow -upon the head, which struck him to the ground, and for a few minutes -deprived him of all thought and feeling. When he opened his eyes, one -of the candles on his dressing-table was lighted, and he saw two tall, -stout men, covered with smock frocks, each with a large piece of black -crape drawn over his face, busily engaged, the one in packing up -quietly all his dressing apparatus, at least that part of it which was -formed of silver or gold, whilst the other, who had, to say the truth, -opened various portmanteaus and carriage-boxes, without their master's -privity or consent, was examining a purse and a pocket-book by the -light of a candle. - -Lieberg was a man of dauntless courage; and though there were two to -one against him, yet he strove to rise, trusting to his own powers to -enable him to contend successfully with the housebreakers, till he -received some assistance. The very first effort to move, however, -shewed him that his hands were tied tightly behind his back, and his -feet linked together, for which purpose two of his own silk -handkerchiefs had been employed. As soon as he found that such was the -case, he perceived that it was vain to make any effort; and he took -his resolution at once, lying as still as if he was dead, and only -watching the proceedings of the plunderers, through his half-closed -eyes. - -After having examined the contents of the pocket-book, the man put it -in his pocket, saying to himself, "That will do!" He then proceeded to -aid his companion, and their arrangements were very soon made. The -larger articles were tied up in a towel; Lieberg's rings, watch, seal, -and various other trinkets, were disposed about their persons, and -then, shading again a dark lantern which they had brought with them, -they approached the door, leaving the candle burning on the table. -Lieberg closed his eyes completely, and lay quite still, though his -heart burnt within him; and had there been the slightest possibility -of success, had he been able to free himself, even in a degree, he -would have undoubtedly struggled up, at all risks, rather than remain -in a situation which wounded his pride perhaps more than anything that -had ever occurred to him in life. - -He could hear, as he lay with his eyes shut, however, that the two men -stopped beside him; and the one said to the other-- - -"You've done for him, Harry!" - -"No, I haven't!" exclaimed the other, in a loud, rough tone. "D--n his -heart and limbs, I have a great mind to do for him, though! He's only -stunned, like--see how he breathes! but if he were up to knowing why I -did it, I'd take and thrash him till I drove the soul out of his body. -I'll tell you what--this is the fellow that you heard of, who got hold -of the poor boy, and threatened to hang him for forgery, if he -wouldn't make his sister go into keeping with him. Now, that's what I -call being a rascal, indeed. These gentlefolks call you and I, -blackguards, and scamps, and criminals, and felons; now, I should like -to know who is the greatest rascal, who is the greatest felon--he or -I? I never take anything but a little money from those that can spare -it, but he--curse the pitiful mongrel--wants to take away a poor -girl's life and soul, and threatens to hang her brother if he wont -help him. If it were with all her own good will, I've nothing to -say; but to think to go to buy her with the price of her brother's -blood!--if that isn't a blackguard trick, I don't know what is. How it -happens that what you call gentlemen keep him amongst them, I can't -say; but I know if he were to come amongst us, we would kick him out. -But come along; if I stand looking at him any longer, I shall do a -something that I shall be sorry for. I don't like taking a man's life -in that way, unless he stands up to me; so come along, for I feel -inclined to put my foot upon him, and tread his dirty soul out, as I -would to a toad." - -The next moment came the sound of receding steps, and then voices were -heard, speaking in another part of the house, and then doors opening -and shutting again, and what seemed tones of lamentation and -supplication. Those were followed by the banging-to of a heavy door, -and the sound of a key turned in the lock; and then all was still, -till what seemed the noise of distant cart-wheels came upon the air, -and silence resumed her sway again. - -All these sounds Lieberg might have heard, and did hear as far as the -external organs were concerned, but his heart was moved with passions -far too strong for the mental ear to give heed to anything. Had it -been possible for his strong, clear mind to give way, it would have -yielded at that instant, when, lying bound and helpless, and forced to -counterfeit insensibility, he listened to the comments of a town-born -ruffian upon his own base conduct, and felt himself, in spite of all -the resistance of vanity, placed in a state of utter degradation both -in his own eyes and in those of the two men who had been gazing upon -him. There was no excess of frantic vehemence in which he could not -have indulged had he given way to the sensations of his heart; but, -instead of doing so, he lay perfectly still, concentrating all his -feelings within his own dark bosom, and continuing to shut his eyes, -as if to prevent the rage over which he brooded, from venting itself -by any of the senses whatsoever. - -It required nearly an hour for his feelings to become tranquil in any -degree, and during that time everything remained quiet in the house, -while the calm, sweet dawn of day came gradually on, throwing warmer -and warmer tints into the room, till at length all was sunshine. As -soon as the day was bright and high, the ear of Lieberg caught the -sound of knocking and shaking, as if some persons at the top of the -house were locked in a room, and trying to make themselves heard. Then -came the voice of his own servant, Martini, exclaiming, with his -Italian accent--"Why have you locked me in? Some one let me out! My -master ordered me to go for the letters early. Let me out, I say!" - -"We can't!" screamed a woman's voice, still further off; "they have -locked us in, too." - -"They!" exclaimed the voice of Martini, again--"who the devil are -they?" - -"The men who broke in, and robbed the house, and murdered my master -and the strange gentleman--I dare say," screamed the woman, who had -spoken before. "Lord have mercy upon us! I saw one of their black -faces"--and she plunged into a personal description of the -housebreakers, which was certainly borrowed very greatly from -imagination, although she had preserved judgment enough, as she said, -to lie still, pretending to be asleep, and do nothing but shiver while -the men were in the room. This was the lady who exercised the function -of cooking, which is a wakeful sort of profession, there arising a -kind of salamanderishness in the nature of a cook, from living -constantly in fiery atmospheres, which prevents her from giving way -more than is absolutely necessary to the cold and frozen state of -sleep. The housemaid, however, following the characteristics of -housemaids, had slept through the whole, and did not even wake with -the cook's shivering, although the latter was her bedfellow, and added -a number of thumps in the side to rouse her, as soon as she found -courage to move hand or foot. Not even did the shouted dialogue -between her close companion and Signor Martini disturb her slumbers, -and the conversation soon dropped. - -At length, the notes of some early country-man, whistling gaily as he -went to his labour, caught Lieberg's ear, and he now raised his voice, -calling to his servant as loud as it was possible; and bidding him, -holla out of the window, and tell the man to break open the doors. -Fortunately, Martini's ears were quick, and he heard and distinguished -his master's orders. The window was thrown open, and several loud -shouts soon brought the country-man, who was passing along the road, -into the green court, and under Martini's window. - -"What is the matter, master?" he cried. "What do you want? It seems -Master Carr has got you there in a cage, that you are chirping out so -early in the morning." - -"I want to be let out," exclaimed Martini. "Break open the doors, and -let me out." - -"No, no," said the man, "that wont do. We never meddle with any of -Master Carr's birds. He's a queer hand to deal with, and so I'll let -him alone." - -He was actually stalking off, when the head of the cook popped out of -another window, and she exclaimed--"Master Turnbull--Master Turnbull! -break open the door, there's a dear heart! There have been robbers and -murderers in the house last night; and I don't doubt you'll find -master, with his throat cut, down stairs. Do break open the door, -there's a good soul, and let us out, for we are all locked in -together; though by the blessing of God, we are all alive!" - -"I'll go and get somebody to help me," said the man, with a knowing -look--"the fellows may be there still. It would take them some time -to break open old Carr's strong box, I take it. No one ever got in -there easily. I'll go and get help--you wait there till I come!" - -The poor cook had no choice except that of doing so, or throwing -herself down upon the top of the penthouse, and probably breaking her -legs; and the man began to walk away, with as slow a step as if he had -been following the plough. Fortune, however, decided that their state -of durance should not continue much longer; for no sooner had Master -Turnbull issued forth into the road again, than his eyes lighted upon -two labourers, coming leisurely up towards him. With their aid and -assistance he now determined to encounter all the powers of darkness -which might be found in Mr. Carr's house, and approached with a steady -purpose of breaking open the door, and restoring egress and regress to -the inhabitants. All violent proceedings, however, were spared him; -for, on coming nearer, he found that one of the windows, under the -shed which we have before mentioned, was wide open, a large hole -having been cut in the window shutter with a saw, and the sash having -been raised quietly by a hand introduced through the aperture. - -One of the labourers made his way in by this entrance; but in the -meantime, Master Turnbull had been examining the door, and discovered -that, though it was locked, the key was on the outside. This he -turned, and, accompanied by the other peasant, entered by the ordinary -passage. The first thing that the three deliverers did, was to proceed -together to that part of the house from which they had heard -articulate sounds; and the door of the maid's room, as well as that of -the valet, was opened. Forth from their several apartments issued the -male tenant, in haste to set his master free--the cook, all alive to -look after her old gentleman, as she called him--and the housemaid, -still rubbing her eyes. - -The countrymen followed as quick as it was in their nature, upon the -steps of Martini, to Count Lieberg's room, and arrived in time to see -the valet raise his master from the floor, and place him in a chair. -The floor of the room displayed a good deal of blood, which had flowed -from Lieberg's head, and Master Turnbull exclaimed--"Lackadaisy, that -is a bad cut!" - -"Off my hands, off my hands, first!" exclaimed Lieberg, as Martini was -endeavouring to untie the tight knot round his ancles. "Cut it, cut -it! What matters the price of a handkerchief, in comparison with this -torture?" - -The man took a knife from his pocket, and, solving these Gordian knots -in the Alexandrine fashion, set his master at liberty. - -"Now, my men," cried Lieberg, "where can my servant find a -magistrate?" - -"Oh, there's a magistrate at Bingley, master," replied Turnbull; "but -you can't get a surgeon nearer than Doncaster." - -"Never mind a surgeon," said Lieberg; "never mind a surgeon, for me at -least. What has become of Mr. Carr and Miss Barham?" - -"That we can't tell," replied one of the peasants; "the maids are gone -to see after them." - -"Let us go too; though," replied Lieberg, "they would not hurt the -lady, and I do not think from what they said, that they have killed -the old man. But let us go and see--some one had better run for a -magistrate immediately. These fellows must be pursued at once." - -As Lieberg spoke, he rose from the chair in which he had been placed; -but for some moments he could scarcely stand, and, motioning the rest -to leave him, he said--"Go quick, go quick! I must put on some more -clothes. Go with them, Martini, and bring me intelligence as soon as -may be." - -The man obeyed at once, and Lieberg proceeded to dress himself, as -quickly as possible, though it was but slowly after all--for both his -arms and feet were cramped and swollen, from the tightness of the -ligatures which had bound them. As he proceeded, he paused two or -three times in thought, and once struck his hand vehemently upon the -dressing-table, saying--"Curses upon them!--Well, well, Martini," he -exclaimed, as the man entered the room; "what have you found?--what -has happened?" - -There was a grin upon the man's countenance which assured Lieberg that -no life had been lost; and the Italian replied--"We found the old man, -sir, tied naked to the bed-post, cold, shivering, and miserable -enough, but he has contrived to warm himself since, for never did I -see a man in such a fury about his money and his plate? They have -cleared the whole house out, that is certain, and got some seven -thousand pounds, the old man says." - -"They have got five or six hundred from me," said Lieberg. "But what -of Miss Barham?" - -"Oh, she is very well, sir, I suppose," said the man, with a peculiar -expression of countenance. "I met her maid just now going to her room, -and she did not say that her mistress had been disturbed at all. The -truth is, sir," he added, approaching close to Lieberg, and speaking -in a low tone, "I did hear some noise in the night, but I did not know -what it might be, and thought it better to keep quiet, and take no -notice." - -Lieberg shut his teeth hard, and clenched his hand with a frowning -brow; but he made no reply, and having dressed himself as far as was -necessary, issued forth and proceeded to the room of Mr. Carr. That -gentleman was coming out, with nothing but his stockings, breeches, -and a grey dressing gown on; and grasping Lieberg's arm, he dragged -him on towards the drawing-room, saying, "They have robbed me--they -have plundered me--they have ruined me, sir!" - -Now there was nothing on earth that excited Lieberg's scorn and hatred -so much as to see a human being give way to passion or emotion, simply -because he had great powers of concealing his own; and the agony of -Mr. Carr, on account of his loss, only served to curl his companion's -lip with a contemptuous smile, and render all his movements, as if for -the contrast's sake, as cool, as self-possessed as possible. - -While the old man, then, walked about the room in a state of -half-frenzied agitation, Lieberg calmly approached the table, and -after looking at him for a moment, with a cold, sneering, gaze, he -opened quietly the leaves of Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, and began to -turn over the engravings. - -"Do you know, Mr. Carr," he said, in the tone of a connoisseur, "I -think they have made a very great mistake in representing Apollyon as -so fearfully ugly. Surely, if that good gentleman, who tempts us all, -be so frightful as he is here put down, we sinners must be men of good -stomachs to run after his sweet things so greedily." - -Mr. Carr thought him perfectly insane; but Lieberg went on in the same -spirit--"He should be rendered very beautiful and attractive, powerful -certainly, and well armed, but still very charming; for we all of us -paint our own particular fiend as a pleasant, sweet personage. Now -you, for instance, never represent to yourself Mammon with horns and a -tail, and all this paraphernalia of episodical horrors, fangs, and -hoofs, and claws, and all that sort of a thing. I dare say, in your -eyes, he is a sweet little cherub, with a purse in his hand, as I -paint Asteroth to myself as a beautiful woman." - -The miser gazed at him as if he had suddenly found himself in the -presence of a furious madman, and he exclaimed vehemently, in the -first excitement of passion, "Why I believe that you are Satan -himself! Is it not enough to drive me mad, to have lost seven thousand -pounds in one night, without having a stranger insulting me in my own -drawing-room, talking of Asteroth, and Mammon, and Apollyon, and all -the follies that ever were concocted in the brain of that half-drunken -idiot, John Bunyan?--Was it you that robbed me?--How should I know -that it was not?--I never saw you before--you may have had a hand in -it for aught I know!" - -"It is very probable," answered Lieberg, "especially as there has been -another robbery committed in your house that you are not aware of, and -that to a large amount." - -Mr. Carr instantly ran to a little old oak cabinet, and shook the door -to see if it had been opened. All was safe, however, and he exclaimed, -"Where?--how?--in what room?" - -"In my room"--answered Lieberg; "that is to say, in the room where I -slept last night; and where, if I robbed you as you say, I committed -the folly of robbing myself also, to the amount of some six or seven -hundred pounds--It seems to me, Mr. Carr," he continued, in a quicker -but less ironical tone, "that this loss of yours has made you mad, and -that instead of thinking of recovering your property by pursuing these -men at once, with all the activity in your nature, you are, instead, -raving like an insane person. Why don't you saddle every horse in your -stable, and track the wheels of the cart in which they carried off -your goods and mine? I have already sent for a magistrate, and no time -ought to be lost in taking other measures." - -"True--very true, Count!" said Mr. Carr, who, now that the first burst -of passion had passed, was coming to his senses again, and recollected -that it would not do to offend a guest, who was likely to hire his -manors--"I will send out some men directly. I beg your pardon, sir, -for being so violent, but this is a great loss.--We must despatch -people to the village, too, and after we have taken all sorts of -measures, we can just go over the manors together. But, dear me, what -shall I do about going to town with Miss Barham!--Hark!--what is that? -There is somebody calling me--they do not know where to find us. -Perhaps they have found some of the plate. It was very heavy, and the -men may have thrown it away. Here I am--here I am!" he continued, -putting his head out of the drawing-room door, "What do you want with -me? Have you found anything?" - -"No, sir, no!" exclaimed the cook, running up with eager eyes. "We -have not found anything, but what is worse than finding anything in -this world, we can't find the young lady--we can't find Miss Barham!" - -"God of Heaven!" exclaimed Lieberg, starting forward. "Can't find her? -Are there any signs of violence?" - -"Oh, dear! Lord bless you, sir! they have murdered her!" exclaimed the -cook, with her eyes as big as saucers, while the housemaid gaped -behind, and Helen's maid appeared with the tears on her cheeks. "They -have murdered her, and taken away the body to bury it, like a dead -dog, in some field. I'll wager any money she saw them and screamed, -and they cut her throat. They would have cut mine, too, if I had -screamed, but I knew better." - -"I declare I heard her scream in the night!" cried the housemaid; "but -I thought it was only a screech owl." - -"Get along, you fool," said the cook, in reply, "you heard nothing at -all, not even yourself snoring." - -"Let me pass!" said Lieberg, with his face as pale as death. "This -must be seen to at once." - -He was confronted, however, by Helen's maid, who said, wiping the -tears from her eyes--"I don't think they have murdered my young lady, -sir, for the shoes and the gown that she wore last night are gone, -though everything else is left, even the combs for her hair. I think -she must have seen them, too, and they must have made her go away with -them for fear she should tell." - -"Come with me--come with me!" cried Lieberg, and away he rushed to the -room where Helen had inhabited. He found everything as the girl had -described. There were no signs of any violence, but evident proof that -Miss Barham had quitted the place suddenly, and but half-dressed. -Nothing seemed to have been plundered, however; two rings which she -had worn were on the dressing-table; and the picture of her -grandfather, which she had spoken of to Mr. Carr on the preceding -evening, lay beside them, having been apparently taken out of the -lower part of a small dressing-case, on which was inscribed--"To Helen -Barham, from her affectionate Father." Her drawing-box was also on the -table, and beside it, a sketch which she had been drawing. Signs of -her mind were in everything about the room, and Lieberg gazed around -it with sensations such as he had never experienced before. He felt -that, for the first time he loved--passionately, strongly; and when -he thought of the fair being who had so lately tenanted that -chamber--whose spirit seemed to live in every object round him--of her -grace, her loveliness, her bright mind, her glowing heart; of his own -evil designs against her, and of her uncertain fate, of her being cast -into the hands of ruffians, and left entirely to their will and -disposal, he struck his hand against his brow, and then shook it -wildly in the air. - -The moment after he had done so, his eye rested upon the form of Mr. -Carr, standing before him, with a bitter sneer upon his countenance. - -"And so," said the old man, evidently finding his revenge in Lieberg's -agitation, "Mammon is a sweet little cherub--a sweet little cherub, -with a purse in his hand; and Asteroth is a beautiful lady! Well, -Count, you see, we have all our weaknesses, and I agree with you -perfectly that we should paint Apollyon good-looking, though powerful. -I do not know that you might not sit for the picture yourself." - -"I will give five guineas to any man," exclaimed Lieberg, "who brings -me a saddle-horse to the door in half-an-hour." - -"I will--I will!" said Mr. Carr, "and give you credit for the sum, -Count, for I believe they have taken your purse as well as mine." - -"I have more that they did not find," answered Lieberg, abruptly. -"Quick with the horse then, sir! Every minute is precious. Let my -servant, when he returns, wait for me here. If I should not come till -to-morrow, let him have his food, Mr. Carr! You shall be paid. I know -the principles of your proceedings. Quick with the horse, I say!" - -In less than a quarter of an hour the horse was brought round, and -Lieberg was upon its back. He tracked the marks of wheels for a long -way with the skill of a wild Indian, but at length they entered upon a -high road where they were lost amongst other traces. Lieberg chose his -direction after a moment's consideration, and then galloped on till he -came to a large town. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - - -It is not in the least my intention to keep the reader in suspense -regarding the fate of Helen Barham, or, indeed, of any of the other -personages in this book. It is a plain unvarnished tale, without -mystery or secret in any part of it, narrating the events exactly as -they occurred, and preparing no other surprises for the public, than -precisely those which fate and fortune destined for the actors in the -scene itself. We will, therefore, at once, with good leave and -permission, return, in point of time, to the night preceding the -attack upon Mr. Carr's house, and venture, in our ghostly capacity, -into the bedchamber of sweet Helen Barham. - -She was certainly as fair a being as ever was seen, and the great test -of loveliness, which the poet gave in his few masterly words, proved -hers--that ornament made no addition to her charms; that dress added -nothing, but rather took away, and that her beauty was assuredly, -"when unadorned, adorned the most." She was indeed so lovely that -eyes, not in general accustomed to contemplate or appreciate very -great refinement, admired as much as those which fed upon rare flowers -every day; and the girl whom Helen had brought from London with her, -was almost as much her lover as if she had been a man. - -Helen's toilet for the night, though always careful, was not long; -and, it must be repeated, that in her bed-gown she was not a bit less -lovely than in the richest robe that ever came from the hands of a -Parisian artist. She had approached the side of her bed, to kneel down -and pray to that God who had mingled most unexpected mercies with his -chastisements, whom she had never forgotten in her misfortunes, and -who had saved her from temptation to sin. She was about to kneel, -then, when her maid, whom she had dismissed for the night some time -before, re-entered the room, and said--"A little note from Count -Lieberg, Miss Helen." - -Helen turned round, perhaps somewhat impatiently, for her thoughts -were full of other things--full of all the wants and wishes which she -was about to express to the ear of God; and she asked, "What is it, -Mary?--open it, and read it." - -The girl obeyed, and taking the note to the light, read aloud the -words which the reader has already heard. Helen returned to the table, -and wrote her hasty reply beneath; and then dismissing the maid, knelt -down and prayed. Amongst other petitions was the request that God -would pardon, reform, and bless her brother; and her thoughts -naturally ran on, after she had done, to his future fate, and to the -hopes of fortune which Mr. Carr had held out. She could not help -thinking that his having been prevented from proceeding on his voyage -just at the time that such a discovery was likely to take place, -seemed like an interposition of Providence. Such a train of thought -induced her to take out of the lower part of her dressing-case the -picture of her grandfather, and compare it with that of her father, -which had belonged originally to her mother, and which, since her -mother's death, she had constantly worn round her neck, night and day. -The latter portrait was an extremely small miniature in a gold case, -surrounded by small brilliants; but it had been painted for her father -in the times of his happiness and prosperity, by an artist who has not -long been dead, but whose works are of high value still to all who -possess them, and who was known in his own day by the name of -Gentleman Shelley. His skilful hand had preserved the likeness in a -size scarcely greater than that of a large ring, and in comparing the -two pictures, the resemblance between the father and the son was -extraordinary. - -Helen gazed on them for several minutes; her memory ran back to the -past, and to the last looks of that father who had been taken from her -at an hour when a father's care was most needful. No one can wonder -that her eyes filled with tears; but feeling that it was in vain to -indulge such sorrow, she extinguished the light and retired to bed, -with her own heart free from guile, though crime, in various shapes, -was hovering round--crime of one kind destined, by the wisdom and -mercy of God, to disappoint another. - -She lay awake for some time, for from the bosom of Helen Barham had -gone for ever that balmy peace which sheds the downy blessing on the -eyes of childhood. Passion, the scarer of slumber, had taken -possession of her bosom, and the lids that not a year before used to -drop at the first invitation of repose, now refused to shut out busy -waking thought from the troubled brain. At length, however, weariness -overcame her, and after a deep-drawn sigh, she fell into profound -sleep. - -How long it lasted she knew not, but when she woke, it was with a -start. There was a light in the room which dazzled her eyes, and to -her horror and consternation she beheld three men, dressed as we have -described those who entered Lieberg's chamber, except that one had for -the moment withdrawn the crape from his face, and was drinking a -draught of cold water from a tumbler which she had left upon the -table. All three were standing near the dressing-glass, and one was -examining some of the little trinkets which she had laid down. -Although they all seemed so peaceably disposed, Helen could not -restrain the first impulse of terror, and uttered a scream, though it -was rendered a faint one by an effort to repress it. The man whose -face was uncovered, instantly drew the crape over it again, and darted -towards her bedside with a crow-bar in his hand, exclaiming--"By--she -has seen me!" - -Helen, overpowered by terror, could not utter a word, but clasped her -hands in an attitude of supplication. She was so young, so beautiful, -there was so much of the light and spirit of life about her, that it -must have been a heart of stone indeed that could have struck her, as -she there lay, in her innocence and her loveliness. The man paused -suddenly, repeating--"She has seen me!" and then asked in a harsh and -grating tone, "Did you not see me?" - -Even then Helen would not tell a falsehood, and she murmured forth, "I -did; but I will never, never say a word of it to any one." - -The man continued gazing at her for a minute or more, in perfect -silence, and then thrust the end of the crow-bar into his pocket, -saying, "It's no use!--I can't do it! Look ye, my young lady, I know -ye, your name is Barham--I have seen you with your brother. Now if I -spare your life, and you help to take mine, damme if you're not a -great deal worse than I am." - -"I will never say one word against you, so help me Heaven!" exclaimed -Helen. - -At that moment one of the man's companions pulled him by the sleeve, -and they had a quick whispering conference together at the other side -of the room. - -"Very well," said the man who had approached her bedside, "that will -do. You stay here at her door, on the outside, d'ye see, while Simes -and I go to the other room.--Don't you do her any harm, mind ye, for I -wont have her hurt. I know she's a good girl.--Come, ma'am, you must -get up, and put on some things, and go with us. They don't choose to -leave ye here. So now be quick, Don't be afraid; no harm shall happen -to ye. I give you my honour I'll take care of ye, and nobody shall lay -a finger on ye. If they do, I'll take care of them--that's all. Get up -quick, there's a good girl," he added, in a softer tone, and all three -left the room. - -Astonished, surprised--scarcely knowing whether she was dead or -alive--Helen lay for a moment ere she proceeded to execute the -commands she had received. She then rose, though it was with terror -and agitation, which scarcely left her power to dress herself, so -terribly did her hands tremble and her knees shake under her. Her -dress was still in sad disarray, when the man who was watching on the -outside put his head in, exclaiming, "Be quick--be quick!--we can't -stay here all night. They'll soon have done." - -But, as may well be supposed, his exhortations to speed only tended to -agitate Helen more, and take from her the power of making haste. A -minute after, another man appeared, who, by his voice, she recognised -as the man whose face she had seen. "Come, come!" he exclaimed, "you -must be quick." - -She would fain have supplicated to be allowed to remain, but he caught -her sharply by the hand, and led her along, saying, "Not a word, as -you value your life." - -With these words he led her down stairs, through the passages at the -bottom of the house, and to the door leading out into the court. -Another man who preceded them, darted away towards a room, which she -knew to be Mr. Carr's, and returned in a minute, bearing a large and -heavy load, and followed by a third similarly burdened. A fourth -carried another large package, and as soon as they were all collected -in the hall, they opened the door and issued forth, one of them -pausing for a moment to lock the door behind them. Poor Helen, still -grasped by the arm, was hurried along through the grass court, and -down the road, which passed before the house, to a spot at about a -hundred yards' distance, where they found a double-bodied phaeton, and -two knavish-looking horses, which apparently had come some distance -that morning. These animals had their forelegs tightly tied with -handkerchiefs, so as to prevent them from moving; but the bandages -being speedily taken off, the packages, which the men had brought, -were placed in various parts of the carriage, and Helen, in a state -scarcely to be described, was lifted into the vehicle. - -The man who had hitherto shewn her some kindness, now took his place -by her side, seized the reins with an experienced hand, and drove on, -as fast as the horses would go, for the space of nearly two hours, -only stopping for one single minute to let the poor animals breathe at -the top of a hill. He shewed no hesitation as to which way he should -turn, though one of the men--of whom there were three, crowded into -the second body of the carriage--called out from time to time, "To the -right, Harry--to the left!" as they approached any lane or road, up -which it was necessary to go. - -It seemed to Helen from the way in which they turned and re-turned, -that they were making more than one circuit, in order to evade -pursuit; and such indeed was the case, for the spot which they at -length reached was not, in a direct line, more than sixteen miles -from Yelverly, and the round they had taken must have been at least -twenty-four. Instead of slackening their pace, they quickened it -towards the end of the journey, and entered a large smoky-looking -town, just as the darkness of the night was beginning to turn grey -with the light of the morning. There was nobody stirring in the -streets, and they did not drive far into the town, stopping at a small -public house on the left hand, almost immediately after they had -entered. All was darkness in the aspect of the dwelling, but one of -the men springing down, opened the door without knocking, and Helen -was lifted out, by another, and taken into a small parlour, where she -found a rushlight on the table, the faint twinkling of which shewed -her, that the people who were with her had not yet taken the crape -from off their faces. One of the two who had got out of the phaeton -stayed in the room with her, without saying a word, while the other -ran out, and returned with a candle, which he lighted at the -rushlight; and then both quitted the parlour, leaving Helen alone, and -locking the door upon her. - -Nearly half-an-hour passed without any one returning, and the poor -girl remained shivering with terror, and with a sensation of cold all -over her; although it was in the midst of summer, and the morning was -in reality warm. No sounds stirred in the house--nothing gave any -indication of its being inhabited; but at length the door was again -opened, and a man appeared, in whom, though the crape was gone, and -the smock-frock was thrown off, Helen recognised without difficulty, -the man whose face she had seen in her room at Yelverly. He was a -handsome, powerful, active-looking man, with a frank and bold, but -somewhat stern countenance; and though his brow was frowning when he -entered, yet, to say the truth, Helen felt more security in his -presence, than probably she might have done in that of any of his -companions. - -She had been sitting upon a wooden chair, with her head resting upon -her hands, but she started up as soon as the man entered, and gazed -upon him as if enquiring her fate. The expression of apprehension upon -her face seemed to move him, and his first words were--"Don't be -afraid, young lady; I told you nobody should do you any harm, and they -shan't; so make your mind at ease on that score.--You can hurt nobody -but me, and I'll take my chance." - -"On my word," cried Helen--"on my honour, I will never say anything to -injure you." - -"Well, well, I believe you," he said; "and if you did think of -peaching, I don't fancy you will, when I give you what I've got -in my hand. Look here, Miss Barham; you know your brother's a -d--d fool.--There, that paper might have hanged him--ay, and it was -kept for the purpose of hanging him, too, by that bitter bad scamp, -Lieberg, if he did not do what was wrong by you. So there, now, take -it, and do what you like with it:" and he held out towards her the -very bill that her brother had forged. - -"Oh, no, no!" cried Helen, drawing back; "I do not know what to do -with it." - -"Not know what to do with it!" cried the man; "why, you foolish girl, -I'll shew you then;"--and twisting it up in his fingers, he put it to -the light. In a moment it blazed up, and the chief record of William -Barham's guilt was at an end. Though Helen dared not do that act -herself, yet her heart beat gladly when she saw it done, and starting -forward with one of her wild impulses of gratitude, she caught the -man's hand, and pressed it to her lips. - -"Nonsense, nonsense!--don't do that," he cried, actually colouring -with a feeling of shame. "Look here! here's another paper I got out of -that same pocket-book--a sort of confession that he made your brother -sign, all for the sake of getting hold of you--I can't well wonder at -it, after all. But then he should have gone honourably about it, and -asked you yourself. However, we will serve this the same," and he set -fire to it likewise, and threw it into the empty grate. "And now," -continued he, "you're to stay here for an hour more, Miss Helen! After -that, you may go where you please--back again if you like; but take my -advice, and have nothing to do with that d--d rascal, Lieberg, for -he's as bad a one as ever lived. He would have made your brother sell -you, like a sheep, to save his neck; and that's not the way to get a -woman's love, I'm sure." - -"But how can I get back?" said Helen; "how can I get home?" - -"Oh! easy enough," replied the man; "you have nothing to do, but to -turn to the left out of the door, and walk straight up the street, -till you come to the Tontine Inn, and the coach-office; and so now -remember, that whenever you see me again, you're not to know me from -Adam." - -"I have promised you most sincerely," said Helen, "and on my word I -will keep that promise--you need not be in the least afraid." - -"I am not--I am not," said the man; "there, give us your hand upon it. -Stay here for an hour, and then go where you like." - -Thus saying, he shook her hand heartily, and was turning to depart, -but Helen stopped him, saying, timidly, "But am I safe here?" - -"Perfectly," replied the man--"perfectly! Why bless your little heart, -there's nobody in the house but yourself." - -"But if the people to whom it belongs should come?" said Helen, "they -may think--" - -"Well, tell them how you were brought here," said the man; "in an hour -you may say anything you please;" and he added, "we shall be far on -the road into Scotland by that time, so don't forget your word, and -good bye!" - -Thus speaking, he quitted the room, and Helen stood watching the -light, as it burnt slowly down in the candlestick. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - - -In an hour after the period at which we closed the last chapter, Helen -Barham stood before a house, bearing the name of the Tontine Inn, in -the town of Sheffield. It was now broad daylight, and there were a -many artisans and people of the lower classes going about the streets -on their various employments; but yet very few of the houses and shops -that she had passed were open, it being barely half-past five o'clock -in the morning. About the inn itself there was no appearance of -wakefulness, and the coach-office was not to be seen. - -Poor Helen Barham's heart sunk as she gazed up at the closed shutters -and blank face of the tall house. She knew not where to go, or what to -do; and had she recollected that her appearance at that moment was -certainly somewhat wild and strange--her hair dishevelled, her bonnet -scarcely tied, without shawl or handkerchief, or gloves--she might -have felt still more abashed and apprehensive than she did. - -After pausing for several minutes, Helen wandered some way on, and -then came back again, when, to her great satisfaction, she saw one of -the drudging housemaids of the establishment sweeping out the passage. -Helen approached her timidly, and asked which was the coach-office? - -"Why, bless you, Miss!" replied the girl, "it wont be open these two -hours; those lazy fellows are never in it much before eight o'clock. -The early coach started an hour ago and more; and then Mr. Jones, who -is the night clerk, goes away, and it's long enough before the others -come." - -"That is very unfortunate!" said Helen, "for I wanted to go to -Yelverly as fast as possible." - -"There's no coach, ma'am," answered the girl, "till ten o'clock. But -hadn't you better step into the waiting-room, and remain there? What -coach did you come by?" - -"I came by none," replied Helen; "I was brought here from Yelverly -against my will, and want to get back, as soon as possible, to Mr. -Carr's." - -"Oh, what miser Carr's house!" said the girl. "I know that very well, -for I was born at Bingley; and I know Miss Juliet very well, too, for -she was kind to my poor dear mother before she died." - -"She is a very dear and good friend of mine," answered Helen; "and I -have been staying at Mr. Carr's for some time: but a party of men -brought me away by force this morning." - -The girl's, wonder and compassion were both moved by Helen's short -account of herself; and after a moment's thought, she said--"May be, -you would not like to go into the waiting-room, where everybody can -come in. Hadn't I better shew you into a private room, Miss? Some of -the waiters will be up soon, and then you can get some breakfast." - -Helen very willingly agreed to this proposal, and by the maid's -assistance she was, in the space of half-an-hour, not only seated in a -comfortable room in the inn, but had before her such tea and toast as -the place could afford, and all that constitutes the inn idea of a -breakfast. It must not be supposed that Helen forgot her purse had -been left behind her, and that she had no money with her; but she had -busily turned in her own thoughts the situation in which she was -placed, and had made up her mind as to the course she was to pursue, -in order to pay both for he accommodation at the inn, and her place -back to Yelverly. - -The personage who attended upon the room where she sat, who brought -her breakfast, and took away the things when she had done, could not -exactly be called a dumb waiter, because he possessed at least two -words, which were--"Yes, ma'am!" and once even, in a fit of Laputan -abstraction, he replied to a question from Helen--"Yes sir!"--though, -bless her, she looked as little like a gentleman as it is possible to -conceive. From this personage, it may be easily supposed, Helen could -get but very little information of any kind, either respecting the -starting of the stages, or aught else; and, after having waited till -she heard, by the chime of the clock, that the hour of the coach's -departure would be the next that struck, she rang the bell, and asked -the waiter if she could speak with the mistress of the house? - -The waiter replied--"Yes, ma'am"--perhaps with the intention of -informing his mistress; but by this time, as I have hinted, it was -nine o'clock: people were coming and going; much gossiping was taking -place at the door of the house; bells were ringing, and a variety of -calls, objurgations, screams, applications, and scoldings, were flying -about the chambers and passages, fit to deafen the ears or distract -the brain of any personage but Figaro or the waiter of an inn. - -The consequence was, that, after waiting for about a quarter of an -hour more, Helen again rang the bell, made the same demand, and -received the same reply. "Pray do not fail," she added, in a gentle -tone; and the man hastened away, determined to obey her behest, before -he did anything else. In a minute after, a tall, fine-looking, stately -dame, dressed in black silk, with an apron and cap as white as snow, -notwithstanding the manifold globules of soot that float about in the -air of Sheffield, entered the room, and asked the young lady, what was -her pleasure, surveying her, at the same time, from head to foot, with -some degree of curiosity. - -Helen, by this time, had indeed done something at the looking-glass, -to take away the wildness of her appearance; but still she was -conscious of not being dressed with that care which becomes a lady, -and her situation altogether gave a timidity to her tone, as she -replied--"I wished, madam, to ask a favour of you. The case is, -simply, this: I have been spending some time at Mr. Carr's, at -Yelverly; but I was brought away from that place last night by four -men, perfect strangers to me, and against my will. All my money was -left behind----" - -The landlady uttered an ominous "Oh!" and pursed up her lips, with a -very significant expression of countenance. But Helen hastened on to -the principal point of her story, saying--"I desire to get back again -to Yelverly, as fast as possible, and I have no means of doing so, -but----" - -"I never lend money to nobody, ma'am," said the landlady, tossing her -head; "and I always expect people to pay for their breakfast when they -order it." And as she thus spoke, she took a step towards the door, as -if to consult with her excellent spouse upon ulterior proceedings. But -Helen was made a little angry at the worthy lady's sharp selfishness; -and she replied, in a tone of more firmness, and command-- - -"Stop a minute, madam, and be so good as to hear me out, before you -come to such rapid conclusions. I do not expect you to lend me money, -or to trust me in any way, without some certainty of being paid. I -have, luckily, one thing with me, which--though I have never parted -with it for an hour, from the time I first had it till the present -day--I must now give up for a time, till I can get to Yelverly, and -send the money to you." - -As she spoke, she unclasped the little gold chain that suspended her -father's picture around her neck, and looked at the miniature for a -moment, with a glistening eye. "This picture, madam," she continued, -"is set in gold--those are brilliants round it, of no great value it -is true, but more than enough to make you quite sure that you will not -lose by trusting me with whatever may be the amount of my bill here, -and with a sufficient sum to carry me to Yelverly. You will be good -enough to give me a little memorandum of having received the picture; -and as soon as I arrive at Mr. Carr's house, I will send back the -money to redeem it." - -The landlady's manner was altered in an extraordinary degree, as she -looked at the miniature, and saw that it was set round with a row of -small diamonds, intrinsically worth, perhaps, seven or eight guineas. -"I will speak to my husband, ma'am," she said. "Indeed, I did not mean -to say anything----" - -Helen bowed her head gently, replying--"There is no need of any -apology. It is very natural that you should not trust a mere stranger. -Speak to your husband by all means; shew him the picture, and tell him -what I say. Indeed, if he likes to send some one with me to Yelverly, -I shall greatly prefer it. Then he can have the money at once, and I -will pay his messenger." - -"Oh dear, no, ma'am, there's no occasion for that, I'm sure," cried -the landlady; "he'll be quite satisfied, I'm certain. I'll be back in -a minute, ma'am," and away she went to tell her husband all about the -nice young lady in No. 5, whom ten minutes before she had set down for -a swindler and a reprobate. - -When she came into the bar, however, she found her husband speaking -busily with a gentleman whose whole attire was dusty, as if from long -travelling. - -"No, sir, no," said the landlord; "I have heard nothing of the -kind--Lord have mercy! you had better go to the magistrates. What do -you think, my dear? They have broken into Mr. Carr's house, at -Yelverly, and carried off every thing out of the place." - -"Then I'll bet any money," cried the landlady, "that this here picture -is a part of the stolen goods.--But no, that can't be it, neither; for -the young lady wants to go back again." - -"What young lady?--What picture?" cried Lieberg eagerly, for he it -was. "Let me look at it!" - -"Why, sir," rejoined the landlady, handing it to him, "the young lady -says she was carried away by force by four men against her will. To -say the truth, I did not believe it at first----" - -"Then you were a fool for your pains!" thundered Lieberg. "It is Miss -Barham! Where is she? Poor girl, what she must have suffered!" and -Lieberg, who without scruple would have wrung her heart, and condemned -her to a life of regret and remorse, did, nevertheless, feel sincere -compassion for Helen Barham under sufferings not a thousandth part so -intense. - -The landlady, however, who did not at all like being called a fool in -the presence of her husband and her waiter, determined to stand up for -Helen Barham's dignity, now that she was thoroughly convinced that the -young lady was what she professed to be; and to Lieberg's repeated -question of "Where is she?" she replied, "I must first ask the lady, -sir, whether she desires to see you. What name shall I tell her?" - -"Colonel Lieberg," he exclaimed, sharply. "But, as there is no doubt -about her seeing me, I shall accompany you." - -The landlady led the way to No. 5, and opened the door sufficiently -wide to admit her own portly person, but not to let Lieberg pass, -saying, at the same time, "Madam, if your name is Miss Barham, here is -a gentleman, who calls himself Colonel Lieberg, wishing to see you." - -In an instant the warnings of the housebreaker came back to Helen's -recollection, but more powerfully still the words of Morley Ernstein. -Her countenance spoke at once plainly that her visitor was not one -whom she most eagerly desired to see, but, ere she could reply, -Lieberg pushed the door impetuously out of the landlady's hand, and, -passing by her, advanced at once towards Helen. - -"Dear Miss Barham," he cried--"we have almost been in despair about -you. This is, indeed, joyful to have found you so soon. I have been -galloping about the country these last three hours in search of you." - -There was so much real joy and satisfaction in his whole look, that -Helen could not refuse to give him her hand; and the landlady having -shut the door, Lieberg, in the excitement of the moment, pressed his -lips upon it, resolved to hazard everything at what he believed to be -a favourable opportunity. - -Helen would have drawn away her hand instantly, but he held it firmly, -and led her to her seat, saying--"Oh, Helen, what have I suffered on -your account this night!" - -Helen coloured and trembled, feeling that a moment of trial was -approaching. She replied gravely, however--"I am extremely sorry that -you should have been put to any pain on my account; but as the stage -will soon be departing for Yelverly, I must settle with the people -here, and take my place." - -"Nay, nay, Helen," said Lieberg, "you must first listen to me for a -moment." - -Helen turned very pale; but he continued, eagerly, though in that -bland, persuasive tone which he knew well how to use, his voice -assuming the softest modulations, his brow cleared of every thing that -was stern and dark, his magnificent features glowing with animation, -but full of gentleness and entreaty, his eyes beaming like stars in a -dark night, but with a subdued and gentle light. - -"Helen," he said, "dear Helen, you must know, you cannot but know, -since last night, that I love you; deeply, passionately, tenderly; -with an ardour, strength, a profoundness that I never felt before -towards any woman. I know not what it is, or how, but you have -fascinated me--enchanted me. That song which you sang last night -seemed to waken in my heart feelings that had slept for years--those -early dreams of love and ecstatic joy with one adored being, separate -from all the rest of earth, bound to her by none of the cold worldly -ties that unite the dull earthly insects which crawl about the world -and call themselves society, but united to her by the bond of strong -affection--of passion, powerful, overpowering, everlasting, -indestructible--of passion, neither to be changed by the world's cold -maxims, nor restrained by idle ceremonies or empty laws. Oh, Helen, -listen to me! Turn not away your head--let not your cheek grow pale as -if you thought I wished to deceive or to wrong you, for I am yours -altogether, and you shall dictate anything to me that you, please. You -shall command we in all respects; I will be your slave, the creature -of your will. I, who never bowed my head to human being--who never -found any to resist or to control me--I will take my law from your -lips, and do in all things as you would have me!--Only, only, do one -thing. There are circumstances which I cannot explain now, for want of -time, but which shall be entirely made clear to you as we go. Only, I -beseech you, let me order horses, and go with me at once to London and -to your brother. I would fain have you, too, go on with me to the -Continent; but you shall stay in London if it please you better. All I -have is at your command, myself, my fortune, my life itself; and you -shall always dictate to me every thing that you would have done, and -it shall be done at once. Helen, dear Helen, come with me! True -passion bears no cold delay, and a rapid resolution, taken in a moment -like this, when love speaks out, when opportunity presents itself and -there is nothing to oppose, often goes on to happiness the most -intense, the most durable, when, if we lose the instant, we give -ourselves up to grief for our whole lives. Nay, shrink not from my -arms, beloved--for once let me clasp you to a bosom that burns for you -alone." - -Helen did shrink from him, however, farther and farther, as with -increasing energy and vehemence, with his eyes lighting up, his words -rushing rapidly from his lips in a thousand varied intonations, and -his whole spirit moved by the strong feelings within him, he poured -forth his passionate solicitations. She shrunk from him, I say, -farther and farther, with the small, finely cut ear glowing with the -scarlet blood, her cheek as pale as death, her lip quivering, her eye -fixed upon her suitor, in terror, surprise, and horror. She could -hardly speak. But however Lieberg veiled his purposes under vague, -though glowing language, warned as she had been, she understood him -only too well, and saw that all which had been told her was true. - -Her lips moved for a moment without uttering a sound, but at length -she murmured, "Monster!"--and turned to ring the bell. - -Lieberg, however, caught her hand and stopped her, and she stood -gazing at him with such a look of horror and pain as, in the moment of -the great temptation, the mother of mankind might have worn, had some -angel whispered the real nature of the being to whom she listened, and -displayed to her mind's eye the endless misery, through unnumbered -generations, that was to follow on man's fall. - -"Beware!" said Lieberg, at length, as he marked that look and read it -aright; and his tongue, while he spoke, lost its poisonous melody, his -face its fascinating smile--"beware what you do! Remember, Helen -Barham, that you are in my power. The moment is now before you to -choose between my love and my hate. Be mine, and I swear by all that I -hold sacred, such a life of joy and love shall be yours as even your -fancy could never dream; but if you reject all that I offer, recollect -that your brother's fate is in my hands, his life, his shame, ay--and -your own fate, too--that reputation of which you may be idly vain. -Disappoint me now, and men shall laugh, and say that she was Count -Lieberg's paramour; but that he tired of her, and cast her off in a -single day. Your fate, I say, as well as his, is in my hands." - -"Mine, mine!" cried Helen, with astonishment and terror. "Mine in your -hands? What is it that you mean?" - -"Nay, nay," said Lieberg, softening his tone again, "though what I say -is true, think not of it. I meant but to shew you what was in my -power, Helen. I have not thought of using that power. To wring or pain -your heart would pain my own, dear girl. Forgive me for what I have -said--think that it was but the mad vehemence of passion. Oh, feel for -me, Helen!--you that seem made for love and joy, feel for the intense, -the burning love you have inspired. Think not that I would hurt your -brother. On the contrary, I have tended him with kindness and care, -when there was no one to tend him but myself. I have furnished him -with all that was needful for his happiness, and it is his first wish -and desire you should be mine. My vehemence has frightened and -surprised you, I see; but you know not what it is I feel. Sit -down again, dear girl, and listen to me--listen to me but for a -moment----." - -"No, Count Lieberg," she replied, firmly, "I will not! I will neither -sit down nor listen to you at all, but upon one subject. I can easily -conceive that you suppose my brother's fate entirely in your hands; -but, thank God, my reputation is not; and I believe you speak a -falsehood when you say that you can make even the general world, much -less those that love and esteem me, believe that I ever was the -paramour of a man whom I hate and despise. I believe, sir, that you -have told a gross falsehood, for the same base purpose for which you -have threatened a brother's life to the ears of his sister." - -The look of Helen Barham had changed under the emotions that she felt. -Instead of fear, and timidity, and horror, it bore now the look of -indignant pride. Her head was raised high, her beautiful nostril -expanded, her bright eyes flashed, and Lieberg, though all these signs -of anger were displayed against himself, felt passion but the stronger -in his heart. - -"Nay, nay, Helen," he said, in a quick, but half sportive tone, "if -you so dare me, dear lady, I must shew that I threaten not without -power. Look at these few words of written invitation, in Helen -Barham's hand! Sent to me by my own valet last night, after all the -household were in bed--'_Whenever you like.--Helen Barham!_'" - -To Lieberg's surprise, the horror and detestation which became the -predominant expression of Helen's countenance, was ummingled with -anything like fear. - -"You are a fiend, indeed!" she cried. "You are a fiend, indeed! But, -like the machinations of all other fiends, your devices are controlled -by the good will of God! When the note that you wrote to me last -night, and which you have torn off from the answer, was brought to me, -know that I was not alone. It was read by another to me--by one who -can swear to every word of it. Thus I set you at nought, scorning you, -as well as hating you, feeling as much disgust as horror at your -conduct. Let me tell you more, Count Lieberg, that, were there no -other man on earth, I would regard you with the same contempt that I -do now; that you are personally odious to me; and that were you at my -feet to-morrow, with proposals as high and pure, as those of to-day -are base and infamous, though I were a beggar in the streets, seeking -my bread from door to door, I would spurn you from me, with the same -scorn that I do now," and passing him boldly, she rang the bell. - -The moment that Helen's hand had left the bell rope, the stately old -landlady burst into the room, with her face all in a glow. - -"You shan't be injured, or insulted, in my house, ma'am," she said. "I -beg your pardon for listening, ma'am, but I thought you might want a -little help from what I saw. The gentleman may take himself where he -likes, but he shan't affront you any more here." - -Helen burst into tears at this unexpected support; and the good woman, -who really, except in money matters, deserved that name, held out her -arms towards the agitated and beautiful being before her, saying, in -the tone of a mother-- - -"Come here to me, my dear! You are a good, virtuous girl, and deserve -to be taken care of. The coach will go in a quarter of an hour, and my -son, Will, shall go with you on the top, to see that no harm comes to -you. There's the picture, my dear--we don't want it; and as for the -gentleman, he had better budge, for if my husband had heard all that I -have heard, he would have leathered his jacket." - -Lieberg gazed at her for a moment, with a look of calm scorn, for his -self-possession had been restored in a moment. - -"My good woman," he said, "you are a very foolish person; and, if you -meddle in this way, with things that don't concern you, you will burn -your fingers some day. Miss Barham, we shall meet again, when you will -think differently." - -"Never!" said Helen; and Lieberg, without more reply, quitted the -room, and ordered his horse over to the other inn. - -"Feed him," he said, to the hostler who took him, "and bring him round -as soon as he is ready." - -He then called for a private room, and buried his eyes in his hands -till the sound of a coach setting out from the office opposite made -him look up. Then biting his lip, without any other gesticulation, he -muttered--"Curses upon it all!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - - -In passing through life we must have remarked, not only that the -satirical maxim of La Rochefoucauld is true, with a great number of -people, in regard to the pleasures that they derive from the -misfortunes of their friends, but that the general world contrives to -extract an infinite quantity of amusement, delight, and satisfaction -from all the evils that are going on throughout the universe. What a -fund of pleasant excitement is there to the minds of many, in that -column of a newspaper, headed "Accidents and Offences." What -gratification to multitudes in a child being scalded to death, a house -being burnt down, a retired tradesman, in a solitary cottage, -undergoing the process of murder! And such is the joy and delight the -great mass of mankind in crime and sorrow, that I do really -believe, if any person could invent an unheard-of iniquity, or -contrive to die some unknown kind of death, not only would rags of his -clothes be kept as relics, locks of his hair preserved in lockets, or -the rope that hanged him be sold at a guinea an inch, but a very -handsome subscription might be gathered, to raise a statue to him, as -the man who furnished the public with a new kind of excitement. - -Fie upon it! The morbid taste for stimulating things, that habitual -drunkenness of the mind, which is increasing day by day more and more -throughout the whole world, excluding the sane, the simple, and the -just, must end in moral death--the sad, worn-out, apathetic death of -the spirit drinker. On my life, I have a great inclination to shake -hands with Father Mathew, and preach a mental teetotalism! - -The prevailing spirit, the love of excitement, which is in every human -being, was not wanting even amongst the quiet fields and villages -around Yelverly; and the news of that famous burglary having spread -far and wide, the retired house of Mr. Carr became an object of -attention and visitation, for all the places in the neighbourhood. -Magistrates flocked in, farmers and yeomen made their appearance, -constables, from every place in the vicinity, travelled thither -without loss of time; and though many a one winked the eye and laughed -at Old Carr's misfortune, the general pleasure derived by the -multitude from an extensive robbery in that part of the country was of -the higher and more interesting kind called excitement. - -The retired lawyer, himself, as his first step, shut up his house, and -would let no one in but those whom he knew; and, after he had -collected his thoughts in some degree, he visited various parts of the -building, opened different drawers and secret cupboards, and found, to -his great relief, that the robbers, from their ignorance of his -habits, had missed many of the stores which he had fancied carried -off. He then gathered together his papers, which were scattered about -his room, examined the marks and memorandums upon them, and, to his -great joy, perceived that they were all correct. Another thing tended -to relieve him from a still greater portion of the load of care, which -was, that the plunderers, with a fine apprehension of detection, had -displayed a goodly contempt for bank-notes, so that two packets, -amounting each to five hundred pounds, were found cast down upon the -floor without the slightest sign of veneration. - -In the midst of these operations, several magistrates poured in upon -him, and all the local wisdom of the neighbourhood was expended during -the next three hours, in consulting and considering what was to be -done. As will ever be the case where there are manifold persons, each -of whom has as much right to speak as another, a great deal of -nonsense was talked, and a great deal of time was expended to very -little purpose. - -The abduction of poor Helen Barham formed one of the principal topics -with the magistrates; and Mr. Carr himself expressed much greaser -anxiety upon the subject than he had ever been known to evince in -regard to anybody, except his daughter. By the time that the premises -had been thoroughly examined, the means by which the robbers had -obtained an entrance clearly ascertained, and the route that they had -taken in their escape rendered as confused and puzzled as possible, by -conflicting testimonies and innumerable conjectures. Count Lieberg's -servant had returned from Doncaster, bringing information from some of -the magistrates of that place, that three persons of very suspicious -look, and one of whom was known to be an infamous character, had -appeared in that town on the preceding day, and had suddenly -disappeared towards night. All attention was now turned towards -Doncaster, every man who thought himself an active magistrate, or who -wished to establish for himself such a reputation, set off instantly -for that town, while the rest retired to their own houses, satisfied -with having talked much and done nothing at all, as is too much the -case with county justices and with members of parliament. - -When they were all gone beyond recall, and Mr. Carr was left alone, -the real track of the plunderers, as so generally happens, was -discovered at once by no other event than the passing of the Sheffield -coach, and the arrival of Helen Barham. Mr. Carr was really delighted -to see her, both because she had proved a pleasant companion to him, -and because in the prospect of managing her own and her brother's -affairs, he foresaw, or thought he foresaw, the means of recovering, -and more than recovering, the riches which the housebreakers had -carried away. - -Many and eager were his questions, to all of which Helen gave a -sincere answer, telling exactly what had occurred, with the exception -of those points which referred to her brother William. She related how -she had seen the man's face in her bed-room; how she had been forced -to rise and accompany the robbers; how she had pledged herself most -solemnly never to give evidence against the man at whose intercession -her life was spared; and how she had taken refuge at the Tontine Inn, -and come thence by the stage to Yelverly. She would willingly have -ended her history there, but Mr. Carr asked, as soon as she paused, if -Colonel Lieberg, then, had not found her? - -"I regret to say he did, my dear sir," replied Helen, with much -agitation; "he found me alone and unprotected, and took that -opportunity, when I most needed comfort and help, to insult and grieve -me. Had it not been for the kindness of the people of the inn, I do -not know what I should have done. I trust," she added, with the tears -in her eyes, "that he will not return here while I remain. If he have -any feeling of honour or shame left he certainly will not." - -"But the manors! my dear Miss Barham--the manors!" cried Mr. Carr; -"what can be done about the manors? Oh, he certainly must return here, -for he has left his carriage and his servant." - -"Then if he does," said Helen, "by your permission, my dear sir, I -will remain in my own room till he is gone, and will not see him on -any account whatsoever." - -"Oh, quite right--quite right, my dear Miss Helen," replied Mr. Carr; -"the foolish fellow doubtless thought you poor and friendless; but he -will find himself mistaken; and when he sees you with seventy or -eighty thousand pounds, or, may be, with a hundred--for I have not -calculated what the arrears will be, and, indeed, cannot, till we -enter into the accounts fully--he will change his tone, I am sure." - -Helen smiled sadly, for, notwithstanding the belief, which had gained -a strong hold of her, that there might be some truth in what Mr. Carr -said regarding the claims of her family to greater fortune than they -possessed, she could not help looking upon his expectation of -recovering it as a mere dream. - -"If he were to alter his tone," she replied, "I should certainly never -alter mine. But I will go now, Mr. Carr, and write at once to my -brother. I have many important things to tell him." - -"Bid him come down here, with all speed," exclaimed Mr. Carr--"bid him -come down here, with all speed. He will soon recover his health here, -and if he do not, you will do quite as well; the entail was in the -female line, as well as the male, and, indeed--" - -"But I thought you proposed, Mr. Carr," said Helen, "to accompany me -to London. I know that it is too late to-day, and, indeed, I feel too -faint and weak to undertake such a journey without repose; but I did -hope that you might be able to go to-morrow, for I only intended to -write to my brother to comfort him in the meantime. You heard what -that miserable man said about his state of health." - -"Oh, he exaggerated--he exaggerated!" answered Mr. Carr. "Don't you -see, he had an object to gain? But, however, I will go up, if you like -it; and, indeed, perhaps it would be the best way. Then we could -settle all things with your brother speedily, and I could set the -Bow-street fellows upon the track of these villains who have carried -off so much of my property. You say very right, my dear, it will be -the best way, and we will go to-morrow--that is, if you be well -enough, for we must not risk your life too. You must take care of -yourself--you must take care of yourself, my little lady, for you will -be a rich dame some of these days, and life becomes well worth -preserving, when people have plenty of money." - -Helen gazed down upon the ground, and her eyes filled with tears, but -she merely replied--"A little repose is all that I require--I shall -be quite able to set out to-morrow; but now I will go and write to my -brother, and pay the young man from the inn at Sheffield, who is -waiting in the kitchen, I fancy." - -"Ay, do, my dear Miss Barham--do," said Mr. Carr. "I would offer to -pay him, but, really, these men have taken all the money I have got." - -"That would be quite unnecessary," replied Helen; "I do not think they -took anything from my room, and I have, luckily, plenty of money in my -desk." - -"Plenty?" said Mr. Carr, with a smile. "Never think you have plenty, -my dear Miss Barham; you will always find more than enough to do with -it, if you had twenty times as much." - -Helen made no reply, but retired to her chamber as she had said, and -after having paid the boy from Sheffield, wrote a long letter to her -brother, and another to Juliet Carr. To the first she told all that -had taken place between herself and Mr. Carr, regarding the fortune -which he said was unjustly withheld from them. She entered into the -whole of her own recollections, and the facts which induced her to -believe that there was some ground for the statements of the old -lawyer, and at the same time she informed her brother of her -approaching return to London. The most important intelligence of the -whole, however, was conveyed in a postscript of a few words, to the -following effect:--"You need no longer be under any apprehension -regarding the consequences of an act that you lately committed, which -you once told me of. Both the papers were destroyed before my own -eyes, by a man who seemed to know something of you, and who had -obtained possession of them in the commission of another crime." - -The letter to Juliet was upon other topics, though she noticed briefly -all that had occurred at Yelverly, and stated that she was about to -return to London, accompanied by Mr. Carr. In the end of the letter -she said--"Count Lieberg has been here, and has justified too sadly -the opinion which Sir Morley Ernstein and Lady Malcolm entertained of -him. He has insulted me cruelly, dear Juliet; and, I do not know why, -but since I have had your friendship, and the support and protection -of one who is, I know, very dear to you, my spirit has risen, even in -spite of much sadness; and those insults which, a few weeks ago, I -looked upon as a part of my fate, a misery that I was born to endure, -I now feel angry and indignant at, and my heart burns within me. It -seems as if being admitted to call myself your friend, has given me, -back a dignity of feeling that misery and friendlessness had before -taken from me. The poor teacher of music and of drawing, who could -hardly gain enough, by her utmost labour, to keep herself and her -brother from absolute want, seemed to consider herself, as well as to -be considered by others, as merely a being to be pursued by the wicked -and licentious, and with no other task before her, than to struggle -and resist, till age came to relieve her from any share of -attractions, without feeling the least anger or surprise at views and -proposals the most degrading. Now, however, it is different, and I -feel the insult that this man has offered me to the very heart. -Nevertheless, my dear Juliet, you must, on no account, mention this to -Sir Morley Ernstein; we both know his noble and his generous nature -too well to doubt that it might, and very probably would, produce a -quarrel between him and the other, which might end fatally. Just in -the proportion as I am unprotected, poor, and without any claim to the -generosity and friendship of any one, would he think himself called -upon to resent an injury and an evil inflicted upon her to whom he has -shewn so much disinterested kindness. I tell it to you, because I will -conceal nothing from you; but you must on no account let him hear one -word of what I have said, as you value your own peace, and as you -value mine." - -Before Helen had concluded her letter to Juliet Carr, she received a -message from the old lawyer, informing her that Count Lieberg had sent -somebody from Sheffield with post horses, to bring away his carriage -and servant, as he did not intend to take the manors or return to -Yelverly; and about half-an-hour after she was summoned to the -drawing-room to speak with two of the magistrates, who had been -recalled by Mr. Carr. Their object was, of course, to ascertain in -what direction the house-breakers had fled, and by what signs they -could be recognised. In regard to the first point, Helen made a clear -statement of what had taken place, and repeated what the man, Harry -Martin, had said, respecting their soon being safe in Scotland, -without at all imagining that these words had been spoken for the -express purpose of misleading; but the information that she could or -would give in order to identify the plunderers was very small. She -described the phaeton generally; but as to the colour, or any other -distinctive mark, she could say nothing, having only seen it in the -night, and being too much agitated and frightened to take any great -notice if it then. The forms and features of the men had been so -thoroughly concealed by the smock frocks which they wore, and the -crape which was drawn over their faces, that Helen said truly, she -could tell nothing regarding them in general by which they could be -distinguished from any other men. - -"But," exclaimed one of the magistrates, "you saw one of them, Miss -Barham! Let us have an account of him, at least. It very often happens -that one being known, his accomplices are speedily traced." - -"But I told you, sir," replied Helen, apparently with some surprise at -the request, "I told you that I had promised most positively never to -say anything by which he could be recognised." - -"But of course," cried the magistrate, "you do not intend to regard -such a promise as binding!" - -"As much as any other promise I ever made," answered Helen; "he might -have taken my life if he had liked it, and----" - -"But listen to me, my dear young lady," said the other magistrate, -"promises made under threats and intimidation are always held to be -invalid. Neither law, religion, nor justice, recognise them for a -moment." - -"I really do not know," replied Helen--"I am no great casuist in such -matters. The man did not threaten me in the least degree, but he might -have taken my life if he had thought fit. If he had done so, the law -would have assigned to him no worse punishment than for breaking into -the house; and on no consideration whatsoever will I give the -slightest indication by which he may be discovered." - -The magistrates then took another turn, and tried to alarm her, -saying, they had power to compel her to answer their questions, that -she might be treated as an accessory after the fact. Helen, however, -turned to Mr. Carr, asking--"Do you suffer this, sir? You are a -magistrate also, I think, and I must know if you wish me to be treated -in this manner." - -"No, no, my dear young lady," said Mr. Carr, moved by very different -feelings from those which either Helen or the magistrates attributed -to him, and, in fact, looking upon her already as the heiress which he -presumed her to be. "No, no, my dear young lady, this shall not be -done. Gentlemen, Miss Barham must either be persuaded by fair means, -or must be silent at her will. I cannot have her bullied." - -The two magistrates seemed somewhat offended at the term which Mr. -Carr employed; but the ci-devant lawyer was quite chivalrous in -defence of his young friend, quoted all sorts of law to prove that his -brethren of the bench were perfectly in the wrong, overwhelmed them -with a multitude of obsolete terms, and would hear no argument in -reply whatsoever. The two magistrates took up their hats, mortified -and annoyed, and, with the dogged stalk of two British mastiffs, -marched out of the room and the house, saying, "that Mr. Carr might -manage the affair as he liked best himself." - -"I will tell you how I will manage it, my dear Miss Barham," he said. -"I will put two of the Bow-street runners on the track, and promise -them a percentage on every ounce of gold and silver they recover. Much -better is it for me to lose a little and get back the money, than to -pay a great sum and hang them all. These county magistrates, with one -thing or another, would let them go on till all the money was spent, -and all the plate melted; but the Bow-street officers will take care -of that, if they hope to have a share; and so we will set out for -London to-morrow without fail." - -The good gentleman's purpose was executed, and he and Helen proceeded -to Doncaster, and thence to London, without pause or delay. Mr. Carr -himself had a strong objection to inns and hotels, and he consequently -drove at once to Lady Malcolm's house, having a sort of claim to the -hospitality of that lady, as his wife's first cousin, which he did not -fail to put forward on all occasions when he visited London. To his -surprise, and that of Helen's, however, a maid-servant opened the -door, and informed Mr. Carr that her lady, Miss Juliet, and Sir Morley -Ernstein, had gone down together to spend a few days at the little -watering-place called Sandgate. - -Helen remarked that there was something in this intelligence which -made a scowl, such as she had seldom or ever seen there before, come -upon the face of Mr. Carr. - -"Gone down to Sandgate with Sir Morley Ernstein?" he exclaimed, -swearing a desperate oath at the same time. "That is strange enough!" - -"Oh, but she will be up in a day or two, sir," replied the maid, who -knew Mr. Carr quite well, and attributed his anger to a wrong cause; -"and I am sure she will be delighted if you will stay here till she -comes; for she always said that a bed was to be ready for you--and -Miss Helen, too, I am sure she will be glad to see. I hope you are -well, ma'am, and have passed a pleasant time in the country, though -you look a little tired like--But I'll go and call the housekeeper." - -That functionary accordingly appeared, and confirmed all the maid had -said; and though Helen had some hesitation as to remaining at Lady -Malcolm's house without an invitation from its mistress, yet the -assurances of the housekeeper, who knew her lady well, were so strong, -and Mr. Carr insisted so vehemently, that she yielded, and took up her -abode in the little room which she had tenanted before, close to that -of Juliet Carr. - -No sooner was Mr. Carr installed, than he wrote a note of the most -pressing kind to his daughter, telling her that he had come to London -on business of great moment, and begging her to return instantly to -meet him in the capital. He entered into no explanations of his views -whatsoever, but requested Juliet, as probably it would be inconvenient -for Lady Malcolm to come up with her, not to make any delay on that -account, but to set out at once, immediately after receiving this -letter. - -This being done, and having taken some refreshment, he proceeded at -once to the house which Helen had formerly inhabited, where her -brother William, who had received her letter in the morning, was -waiting in a state of excitement of joy and astonishment impossible to -describe. Helen, who accompanied Mr. Carr, remarked one thing, -however, which made her fear that her brother had once more fallen -amongst bad associates; he was extremely anxious to go into the -country, vowed that though Lieberg was a liar, as he termed broadly -it, and he had never been seriously ill at all, it would do his health -good to be away from London; and added, that if Helen had only given -him time, he would have come down to her in the country, without -giving her the trouble of coming up to him. - -Like all weak persons, William Barham was ever ready to attach himself -to any one who would flatter his hopes or his wishes, hating -unpalatable truth of all kinds, almost as much when it regarded his -own situation, as when it affected his own conduct. With Mr. Carr he -was delighted, vowed that he was a very honest fellow--that he would -put himself entirely in his hands--and that there could be no earthly -doubt that he was quite right in regard to the view he took of the -case. Thus, after a long conversation, they parted, and Mr. Carr -returned with Helen to Lady Malcolm's house, enjoying the idea of -having so soft a person to deal with, almost as much as if he had -still been a solicitor in full practice. - -Helen, however, was sad and dispirited, and felt that the tone of her -brother's conversation altogether was painful and distressing. Some -time had now elapsed since she had seen him; the effect of the country -on her mind had been calm and refreshing; and all that was dark and -bad, all that was weak and foolish in the character of her brother, -seemed to stand out the more prominently from the state of her own -mind. When we wish to see an object distinctly through a glass, we -take care to wipe it clean from all specks and dust; and there is -nothing that clears the mental vision so much of all the dark and -dimming things of earthly life, as calm communion with the spirit of -God's works in scenes where man's handy-work has wrought but little. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - - -In looking at one of the finest and most sunshiny pictures of Claude -Lorrain, and in marking the calm and gentle brightness which his -pictures generally display, it has often struck me that they afforded -a fine image of happiness--of that pure dreamy happiness which is -sometimes the portion of youth. The calm, refreshing shades in the -foreground--shades produced not by clouds or by storms, or by the -proximity of night, but by some sweet object softening the light, and -mitigating the heat--the immense boundless distances, blending into -the blue sky, Earth losing itself in Heaven--the prospect embracing -every sort of object that can enchant the eye, fields, and plains, and -hills, and woods, and villages, bridges, and streams, and lakes, in -gay confusion, and ruined temples waking sweet associations of the -past, and man's living habitations giving the idea of dear domestic -peace, each catching the bright sunshine, and each beautiful, though -vague--the poet-painter surely intended all this as the symbol of a -happy dream, where present enjoyment is calm though full, and every -object of desire and hope is stretched out before the future, and -lighted by the sun of youth and fancy, till the remote end mingles -with heaven itself. - -The three days that Morley Ernstein and Juliet Carr had passed at -Sandgate, had been, like one of those pictures of Claude Lorrain, all -brightness, all hope. There seemed not to be a cloud in the whole sky; -but those sweet days of happiness are often like the glowing mornings -of tropical climes, where, in the midst of a heaven previously without -spot, a small, dark cloud appears, no bigger than a man's hand, and -ere many hours are over, the hurricane sweeps past, and all is -destruction, desolation, and sorrow. - -The fourth day broke as brightly as any of the former, and Morley -Ernstein, who, for propriety's sake--or for the sake of that which a -corrupted state of society believes to be propriety--had been driven -by Lady Malcolm to sleep at another house, came in to breakfast as -usual, and to arrange with her he loved some pleasant scheme for the -passing of the coming hours. They had sat up late on the preceding -night, enjoying the balmy summer air, as it swept over the sea, and -Juliet had not yet quitted her room. At the place where she usually -sat, however, had been laid down a letter, and Lady Malcolm, who -entered the room first, wondered from whom it could come. Juliet -herself soon appeared, and, without noticing the epistle, talked to -Morley for some time, upon all those things which first interest -lovers when they meet, and might have gone on still longer, had not -Lady Malcolm--who was at an age when small matters are great, and who, -moreover, had always been gifted with that peculiar sort of -irritability which never suffers one to rest till the inside of a -letter has been seen--insisted upon Juliet opening hers, though Juliet -had said before that it was from her father, and was only that which -he wrote her every week. - -To please her cousin, however, she broke the seal; but poor Juliet's -countenance underwent a sad change as she read the few lines that it -contained, and her voice faltered sadly, as she said-- - -"My father is in London; he has come up in great haste about various -matters, and requires my presence immediately, without a moment's -delay. He refers me to a letter from Helen, which I have never -received, and speaks of Yelverly having been broken into by robbers. I -am afraid I must go directly, Harriet." - -As one may suppose every thing was soon in confusion. Lady Malcolm -read the letter, and saw that it was imperative. Juliet wished to go -alone, but her cousin would not hear of such a thing, and said she was -quite ready to return to London: Morley Ernstein professed himself -rejoiced that Mr. Carr had come to town, and spoke a few words for -Juliet's ear alone, which made the blood mount into her cheek. Lady -Malcolm did not seem so well contented, however, and after breakfast -she and Juliet consulted together, sending Morley to see that -everything was ready for their immediate departure. In five minutes -after, however, Lady Malcolm despatched her maid to call him back -again, and when he entered the little sitting-room of the inn, he -found that good lady standing ready to speak with him, and bearing -very much the air of one who has something unpleasant to communicate, -and does not well know how to do it. - -"My dear Morley," she said, "I have just been talking to Juliet about -you and her father; for on hearing that he had come suddenly to town, -I began to be in a fright lest something unpleasant might take place, -if he saw you at once as the acknowledged lover of his daughter, -before he is a little prepared----" - -"But, why--why?" demanded Morley, with some surprise. "If he had not -come, I should have gone down, as soon as Juliet herself left town, to -ask her hand at once. She is well aware that such was my intention. -Why should anything unpleasant happen, my dear lady?" - -"That is what I was explaining to Juliet," said Lady Malcolm. "A long -time ago, there was a sad quarrel between your father and Mr. -Carr--all about me, too, unfortunately--and though the thing is passed -by and gone, my dear Morley, yet I think it would be very much better -if you would let us go up first, and follow to-morrow, when I have -seen Mr. Carr, and explained the whole matter to him. Now do not look -sad and discomposed; it is only a precaution, but, depend upon it, it -is a wise one. He is an irritable, and a passionate man, Mr. Carr, -and, in the haste of the moment, he might say something which he would -never retract. But as I will manage it, all will go right, depend upon -it." - -"But what says Juliet?" demanded Morley, while that small dark cloud -which we have spoken of as announcing the tempests of tropical skies; -now first appeared upon the horizon of his own happiness. "What says -Juliet, Lady Malcolm? I would fain speak with her. You alarm and -surprise me." - -Lady Malcolm immediately called Juliet from her room; but she came in -with so cheerful a countenance, that the fears which had suddenly -taken possession of Morley's heart, disappeared before its sunshine. - -"What is this, Juliet," he asked, "that Lady Malcolm tells me? It -seems," he continued, "that she and you have determined to cut me off -from a day's happiness, dear Juliet; and wish me to stay here till you -have seen your father?" - -"You are not angry with me for wishing it?" said Juliet, giving him -her hand, for he had spoken in a tone of vexation. "If you are, you -shall come, Morley. But I thought what dear Lady Malcolm proposed was -much better. She has explained to me the cause of my father's -crossness on that day when first we met you, which I never knew -before. But I am sure that if we have an opportunity of speaking with -him calmly and quietly, he will not oppose us in any degree. He never -does thwart me, and the only danger lies in taking him by surprise, -and provoking him to utter something harsh. When he has said a thing, -he adheres to it inflexibly, and, therefore, I thought it much better -not to risk anything.--I tell you the whole truth, Morley, as I ever -will, and now, having done so, you shall act as you like." - -"Then I will stay here, Juliet," replied Morley; "for as my whole -happiness depends upon obtaining you, it shall never be said that any -rashness of mine whatsoever cast away the cup of happiness when it was -so near my lips. I will not set off for London, then, until to-morrow -morning, for I fear, Juliet, I could not keep myself away, if I were -in the same town with you, and then I should never cease to reproach -myself, if anything went wrong." - -"Nothing will--nothing can!" said Juliet, with a smile. - -Lady Malcolm, finding that their plan was settled, quitted the room -for a moment; and Juliet Carr, seeing that a slight shade of -apprehension still hung upon her lover's countenance, added--"Nothing -will go wrong, Morley, depend upon it; and though I dare not make any -other promises, this, at least, I may venture to say; the hand you -have sought, Morley, shall never be given to any one else--believe me, -on my honour." - -"I do believe you, dear Juliet," cried Morley, enthusiastically--"I do -believe you, from what I feel myself; for I cannot think that those -who have loved as we have, could ever forget that love so far as, -under any circumstances or for any consideration, to enter into an -union with another than the person who first possessed their heart.--I -do not know why I am apprehensive, Juliet, or of what; but certainly -it is not lest you should give your hand to another." - -The half-hour that was to intervene before the departure of Lady -Malcolm and Juliet Carr passed as rapidly as the half-hours of -happiness usually do; and Morley Ernstein was soon left alone to while -away the time, amidst scenes which had seemed full of joy and beauty. - -There is a fine paper in the _Spectator_, from the hand of Addison -himself, upon the effect which would be produced in the physical world -by the absence of the coloured rays of light, showing the dull, -greyness that would spread over the whole universe; and certainly in -the moral world, the absence of those we love produces the same -effect. How instantly does all around us become changed!--how rapidly -does everything lose its brightness and its glow!--how grey, how -leaden, how heavy, falls upon the eye every object in which we took -pleasure while the beloved were with us when the light of love is -gone! Morley had fancied the scenery around him beautiful--he had -thought everything full of loveliness and brightness; but it was in -truth Juliet Carr that he saw reflected from all on which his eye -rested; it was her beauty, her beaming countenance that he beheld on -the sunshiny sea, in the bright landscape, in every ride or drive -around; and now that she was gone, all things seemed, indeed, "flat, -stale, and unprofitable." - -In vain he sought for occupation or for amusement; his spirit was -impatient, his heart was apprehensive. Twenty times in the course of -the day, he felt angry with himself for not accompanying Juliet to -London--twenty times he felt tempted to send for horses, and follow -her as fast as possible. - -The day ended at length, notwithstanding all its tediousness, and -gladly did he see the following morning break, and the horses brought -to the door. The coach went wondrous slow for his impatience, and -every stoppage seemed to him an unpardonable crime on the part of the -coachman. But the journey, as the tedious waiting of the preceding day -had done, and as everything else, whether pleasant or unpleasant, must -do, passed away in the end; and towards seven o'clock, he found -himself at the door of the hotel. - -On his table was a note from Lady Malcolm, very brief, and evidently -written in haste. The few words which it contained were as -follows:--"My dear Morley, pray come here directly. I have a great -deal to talk to you about; Helen Barham too is here, and has promised -to stay with and console me." - -Morley Ernstein let the note drop out of his hand. "To stay with and -console her!--Console her, for what?" he exclaimed. "In the name of -Heaven what has happened?" and snatching up his hat, he darted away to -Lady Malcolm's, with the speed of lightning, making no answer to the -waiter's demand of, "Dine at home to-day, sir?" - -At Lady Malcolm's the quiet appearance of everything provoked him. The -footman who opened the door presented as calm a face, answered with as -easy a tone, and moved with as slow a step, as if everything had gone -on in peace and happiness since Noah and his train issued forth from -the ark. Morley Ernstein could not affect a tranquillity he did not -feel, and while the man was walking up the stairs before him, as if -his joints were becoming ossified, the young gentleman suddenly pushed -past him, and entered the drawing-room unannounced. - -Lady Malcolm was seated quietly at work, and Helen Barham was reading; -but, though Morley looked round for the bright angelic face of Juliet, -and the less prepossessing one of Mr. Carr, no such objects presented -themselves; and the grieved, anxious expression of Helen's -countenance, as she raised her eyes and beheld him, told at once that -something painful had happened, something which she knew would -distress him much. - -"Oh, dear, I am so glad you are come!" exclaimed Lady Malcolm, "though -I am sure I do not know what is to be done--but you must judge -yourself." - -"Where is Juliet?" demanded Morley, eagerly interrupting Lady -Malcolm--"where is Juliet, dear Lady Malcolm?" - -"She is gone," replied Lady Malcolm; "Mr. Carr would take her home -with him, in spite of all I could say. I explained the whole to him; -and Juliet herself, I am sure, told him all; but he said nothing but -'hum,' and 'ha!' and in reply, when I told him you would be here -to-night, he only grumbled that he was sorry, but could not stay." - -Morley was agitated far more than lady Malcolm had expected. Love is -blind in some respects, and in moments of joy is very dull of sight -indeed; but at the first touch of sorrow, comes upon it a prophetic -spirit which teaches it to see the evil afar off, and shrink at the -anguish that too often besets its path. Morley stood still in the -middle of the room, without attempting to take a seat, and looked -steadfastly down upon the ground, asking himself what he should do -next. - -"My dear Lady Malcolm," he said, at length, "you must forgive me for -making my visit a very hurried one. I can bear anything but -uncertainty, and I must set off immediately for Yelverly." - -"Not to-night!" exclaimed Lady Malcolm. - -"Yes, this very night, dear lady!" replied Morley; "I should not sleep -five minutes if my head were on the softest pillow in England; so I -may as well pass the hours of darkness in my carriage as anywhere -else. I shall be at Morley Court about mid-day to-morrow, and can see -Juliet and her father, and know my fate before another night pass over -my head." - -"Oh! it will all go very well," said Lady Malcolm; "do not be afraid, -my dear Morley. If you but consider, you will see that Mr. Carr will -never be so foolish as to make any difficulty. He thinks of nothing on -earth but money, you know, and in that point he certainly cannot -object to you." - -Morley smiled sadly, but still with some renewal of hopes, and he -answered: "Well, we shall see; but at all events I cannot bear -uncertainty, and will go away at once." - -"Nay, nay," rejoined. Lady Malcolm--"stay a little; here is your young -friend Helen Barham, to whom you have not said a word." - -Morley felt that he had been unkind, and going round, he took Helen's -hand. It was as cold as marble; and, as she looked up in his face, it -was with an expression that struck him much, and carried him away for -a moment from the selfishness of his own sorrow. The look was not a -grave one; on the contrary, it was intended to be cheerful; but the -forced smile, the eyes that were full of sadness, the quivering of the -lip and nostril, betraying a struggle against tears, all spoke of -grief at heart; and Morley, after conversing with her for some little -time, went away from Lady Malcolm's house, saying to himself--as I -have had occasion to say more than once--although he saw nothing -of the feelings that he commiserated, except that they were -sorrowful--"Alas, poor Helen Barham!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - - -It was at Yelverly on a summer's evening, but not upon one of those -bright evenings which I have described in another place. The weather -had sadly changed, with all the mutability of temperature which -manifests itself so strangely in England, as if for the purpose of -affording a contrast to the firm and constant character of the people. -The sky was covered with grey clouds, the wind was from the cold -north-east, sweeping sorrowfully over the fields and through the -hedge-rows round Yelverly; and that which had seemed sunshiny, rich, -and beautiful, was now to the eye all cold, sad, and desolate. The -cattle gathered themselves under the shelter of the hedges, the sheep -drew close together, the birds sat motionless upon the boughs, and -some wheeling flights of crows, high up in the sky, added to the -autumnal-look which had so suddenly come over the world. - -Notwithstanding the inauspicious aspect of the afternoon, Juliet Carr -had wandered forth with a shawl wrapped close over her fair bosom to -keep out the rude touch of the blast, and her veil thrown over her -head and face. Her heart was somewhat sad, as may well be supposed, -for she had been suddenly separated, without the slightest expectation -of being so, from him that she loved best on earth. But still, though -her mind was not of a very sanguine or hopeful nature, and her -feelings were as deep and keen as ever dwelt in woman's heart, yet she -was no more than sad, for not one word had passed her father's lips to -make her think he would absolutely disapprove of her union with Morley -Ernstein. He had remained perfectly silent upon the subject: somewhat -gloomy, indeed, but nothing more; and that gloominess Juliet thought -might, perhaps, proceed from a feeling of indisposition, for the -fatigues of the journey had brought on an attack of illness, which, -though not alarming, was severe. - -To see him suffer, of course, had not lightened the load upon his -daughter's heart; more especially as, at such moments, he repelled -every effort to soothe and comfort him. Indeed, it was clear that, in -sickness, he preferred being attended by any one else than Juliet; and -the sight of her, whose appearance was hailed in the cottage of the -poor as the visit of a consoling angel, seemed rather to affect Mr. -Carr, in his hours of illness, with painful and unpleasant feelings. -It was not that he was cross or morose with her, for it was scarcely -possible for any human being to be so; and, on the contrary, he was -usually much more gentle with her than with any other person, seeming -to pay a sort of deferential respect to her opinion, which sometimes -surprised even Juliet herself. But when he was ill, he had always some -excuse ready for sending her away, and this was so marked that she -perceived it, and perceived it with sorrow. - -Such had been the case on the present occasion. Juliet and her father -had arrived the day before, at Yelverly, Mr. Carr feeling himself at -the time extremely unwell. His illness had increased considerably -during the night; and Juliet, though evidently not much to his -satisfaction, had remained attending upon him during the whole day. -Towards evening, however, he became more impatient; and upon pretence -that it was better for her health to take exercise, he insisted upon -her going out--reminding her, that the cottagers on different parts of -the estate had not seen her for some weeks. - -Juliet, at the time I have brought her before the reader's eyes again, -had strolled out to one of the distant hamlets which belonged to her -father, had called at two or three of the houses, where no slight joy -and satisfaction had greeted her arrival, had seen that all which -could be done to promote the happiness and comfort of the poor had -been executed during her absence, and was walking home again, with a -heart somewhat sorrowful, when she heard the sound of a horse's feet -proceeding at a rapid pace along the highway hard by. She was at this -time in one of the small green fields that I have mentioned, about a -mile and a half from Yelverly house, and was crossing the meadow by a -foot-path running from one corner to another, which was terminated by -a gate and stile leading to the main road. - -Juliet's heart beat at the sound of that horse's feet, she knew not -well why, for manifold were the horsemen who rode along that road, and -not a few of them went at the same rapid and impatient pace which -those footfalls indicated; but yet her heart beat with the thought -that it might be Morley Ernstein; and, though it was very natural that -she should so think, for love is as full of hopes as fears--rapid, -causeless, wild--yet she scolded herself for entertaining idle -expectations, when she had no right whatever to suppose that Morley -could have followed her so soon. - -Juliet looked eagerly forward as she approached the stile, before -which the horseman must pass, and in a moment after, the figure of -Morley Ernstein himself flitted across like lightning, mounted on the -same splendid horse which he was riding when they met under the walls -of his own park. He turned not his head to the right or to the left, -little dreaming that Juliet was so near; and though she would have -given a world to call to him, knowing right well that Yelverly was the -object of his ride, and that he would be sadly disappointed at not -finding her there, yet a feeling of modest shame withheld her till it -was too late. - -Quickening her pace to look after him, however, Juliet approached the -stile rapidly; but just as she reached it the clatter of the horse's -feet for a moment increased, then ceased altogether--it seemed to her -very strangely; and when, throwing open the gate, with a beating -heart, she looked down the road in the direction which Morley had -taken, she saw the horse just struggling up from the ground, and her -lover lying motionless beside it. - -Juliet screamed not, she paused not, she uttered not a word, but -darted on like lightning. The horse was all cut and bleeding, shewing -with what a shock he had fallen; but the poor animal, as if with -generous forgetfulness of his own suffering, after the first trembling -gaze around him, bent down his head to the prostrate body of his -master, seeming to enquire why he lay there so still and silent. - -Oh, how cold was the heart of Juliet Carr, when coming up she looked -upon the motionless form of him she loved best on earth, and asked -herself--"Is he dead!" She knelt down, she raised his head, she gazed -upon his face. It was covered with dust from the road, but there was -no blood. The fine expressive eyes were closed, the teeth were hard -set; but as she looked upon him he drew a deep breath. There was still -life! and her first words were--"Praise be to God!" - -Just at that moment, clear and gay, came the merry note of some -peasant boy, as he whistled across the lea. Sad, sad were those merry -sounds to the ear of Juliet Carr, and yet they brought the hope of -relief, for the place was at the distance of half a mile to any -dwelling-house, and she feared to leave Morley lying there while she -ran to procure help. Advancing to a gate a little further on, she -looked into the field, and saw the boy whose wild music she had heard, -coming slowly and heavily along, with some instrument of husbandry -upon his shoulder, and beckoning him eagerly to her, she sent him away -to the nearest cottages to procure all the assistance that he could. - -In the meanwhile she remained by the side of him she loved, gazing -down upon him with eyes from which the tears now began to drop fast, -and watching with faint hope for some sign of returning consciousness. -She made some efforts, too, to call him to life herself: she untied -the handkerchief that was round his neck, she opened the collar of his -shirt, she brought some water in her fair hands from a neighbouring -stream; and, kneeling down beside him, sprinkled his brow; and, as she -did so, Juliet looked timidly around to see if any one was near, and -then pressed her lips upon his forehead and dewed it with her tears. - -Morley moved not, however, even at the touch of love, though he still -breathed; and in about a quarter of an hour four men came down, -bringing a hurdle from one of the neighbouring fields. Upon it Morley -Ernstein was laid, and the men, lifting him up, under Juliet's -direction, carried him to Yelverly, the boy leading the horse, which -had never attempted to stir from the spot. - -Arrived at the house, Morley Ernstein was carried up stairs and laid -in the room which had been inhabited by Lieberg, Juliet accompanying -the people who bore him thither, and casting aside the consideration -of everything else but the one great object of doing all in her power -to restore him to life. A man was instantly despatched on horseback -for a surgeon, and Juliet hastened to tell her father what had -happened, and to seek his approval of her conduct. - -She found, however, that the news had been already communicated, but -what surprised her more was to find a stranger seated by her father's -bedside. He was a sickly-looking young man--but to spare further -description, I may add, that though a stranger to Juliet, he is not so -to the reader, being no other than the brother of Helen Barham. The -young man started up somewhat awkwardly, for he had been little used -to the society of ladies, and had not those qualities in his own -character which enable men of fine minds to assimilate themselves -rapidly to what is higher, nobler, and more graceful in the mind and -demeanour of others. - -Juliet's pale face and haggard look, while she told her father of the -accident which had occurred, did not escape the old man's eyes, and he -fixed a keen and searching look upon his daughter's countenance which -pained Juliet, and added other apprehensions to those which she -already entertained. - -"I think, Juliet," he said, as she concluded, "that you might have -taken him to some cottage nearer than this house, and not have put me -to all the expense and trouble of having him here." - -"Oh, my dear father!" exclaimed Juliet, turning away with a sad and -reproachful look; but Mr. Carr, who displayed in general a deference -for her opinion, which he did not evince for that of any one else, -cried out quickly, "Well, well, Juliet, the thing is done now and -cannot be helped; we must make the best of it." - -At that moment one of the maids entered the room with a quick step, -saying, "Miss Carr--Miss Carr! there's Mr. Langley, the surgeon, up at -the rectory, with Mrs. Lee the rector's wife." - -"Send for him directly," cried Juliet, following the maid out of the -room--"lose not a minute, Jane." - -The girl hastened away herself, and in about ten minutes more the -surgeon was in the house. Juliet accompanied him to the room where -Morley Ernstein lay, and watched with anxiety--which may have been -deeply felt by those who love, but can never be described even by -those who have felt it--the long, the terribly long examination on -which hung the hopes of life and death. She uttered not a word; she -breathed not a sigh; she was so still in that intense anxiety, that -she not only felt but could hear her heart beating. - -The surgeon turned round, at length, and looked at her, seeing then, -for the first time, that some deep feeling was busy in her bosom. He -spoke not to her, but bowed his head gently, with a look of -encouragement; and then the tears burst forth in floods from her eyes, -and she turned away towards the window. At the same moment the surgeon -drew from his pocket that little case of instruments, the sight of -which has so often produced the shudder of mortal antipathy on the -manly frame--the operation of which has with equal frequency plunged -hearts full of affection and tenderness into the bitterest agony of -earthly sorrow, or restored smiles and sunshine to the bright domestic -hearth. - -The lancet and the bandage were soon produced, and the red blood -spouted freely from the arm of the injured man. A minute or two after, -while Juliet was still looking forth from the window, she heard a -voice which made her whole frame thrill. It was the rich melodious -tone of the lips of him she loved, but low and softened; and darting -to the bedside, she cast herself upon her knees, exclaiming, "Thank -God!--thank God!" - -Great indeed was the change which the flowing of that blood produced. -The dull heavy aspect of life without intelligence was gone. The clear -bright soul had resumed its sway in the mortal tenement, and looked -out from the window of the eye. - -"Juliet, Juliet!" said Morley Ernstein, "where am I? Something has -happened!" - -But the surgeon held up his hand, saying, "Do not speak. You must be -kept perfectly quiet, especially till the blood has flowed freely. -This will all pass away, but we must guard against any fever.--Do not -be agitated, my dear Miss Carr, all will go well, I assure you. The -only thing that is necessary is quiet: and therefore I must now have -the room cleared. Two or three days of perfect tranquillity and -confinement will remove all evil, except aches and bruises. So you may -rest satisfied, and leave this gentleman to my care without any -apprehension." - -"I will leave him for the present," replied Juliet; "but I must be his -nurse, Mr. Langley. I have known this gentleman from childhood, and I -am sure that sir Morley Ernstein will like my tending as well as that -of any other." - -"Better--far better--than any on the earth," replied Morley, holding -out his hand to her, while the surgeon was busy binding the bandage -round his other arm. "To see you near me, Juliet, is enough of itself -to make me well.--I remember now that my horse fell, but how I came -hither I do not recollect." - -"We will tell you all that afterwards," replied the surgeon; "and if, -in order to make you well, Miss Carr must come back again," he added, -with a meaning smile, "I can have nothing to say; only she must leave -you for the present--for two or three hours at least. During that time -I must stay and watch you; but when I am sure that all is going on -right, she shall take her turn." - -On leaving the room of Morley Ernstein, Juliet proceeded at once to -the chamber of her father, to report the state of their young guest; -for although she was almost sure to find, in any communication with -Mr. Carr, something to shock and pain her, yet she struggled against -the repugnance naturally engendered by his words and demeanour, and -overcame, from a sense of duty, every inclination to conceal from the -eyes of her parent the feelings of her own heart. - -Had she found her father alone on the present occasion, all that she -felt towards Morley Ernstein would undoubtedly have been poured forth; -but William Barham was still with him, and Juliet saw with some -apprehension that Mr. Carr's face was flushed and feverish. He was -irritable too, and spoke angrily of her having been so long away. She -listened with patience, and made no reply, but informed him of the -state of Sir Morley Ernstein, and told him the surgeon's opinion, that -the young Baronet would soon be well. - -"I wish, my dear father," she added, in the end, "that you would see -Mr. Langley yourself. You do not seem at all better, and as he is now -in the house, it would be wiser to consult him." - -"If he will not charge it as a visit to me," said Mr. Carr, "I shall -have no objection. But I am not going to pay him for doctoring me when -he is getting paid for his time by this young Baronet." - -"Then I will send him, sir," said Juliet, and much reason had she to -be glad that she had persuaded her father to see the surgeon; for it -proved that Mr. Carr was more seriously ill than he imagined, and the -recovery of Morley Ernstein was much more rapid than his own. -Nevertheless, more than one week passed before the young Baronet was -suffered to quit his room; and the situation of Juliet Carr, it must -be owned, was somewhat strange, not only in relation to Morley, but -also in relation to William Barham, who, at Mr. Carr's request, -continued to reside in the house. - -All the cold proprieties of society--the icy fetters with which the -evil acts of the bad have contrived to chain the warmest affections of -the generous and the good--did certainly from time to time present -themselves to the mind of Juliet Carr, and acted, in some degree, as a -check upon her. But that degree was a very small one. Her heart was -too pure, her mind too candid, all her intentions and all her thoughts -too high and holy for evil in any shape to present itself to her -imagination; and that which she herself knew not to be wrong, she -could with difficulty believe would be represented as wrong even by a -harsh world. - -Many hours of the day, then, did she spend with Morley Ernstein, -cheering him, soothing him; and the only restraint that she did put -upon herself was to ensure that those hours were not passed with him -alone--so long, at least, as he was confined to his own chamber. There -was always some servant in the room with her--not a little to Morley's -annoyance, if we may say the truth--but two or three gentle words from -Juliet, explaining to him her reasons, convinced him that she was -right. He loved her too well to wish that, for his sake, she should do -anything which might bring one reproach upon his future wife. - -Still those hours were most sweet to both of them--perhaps not the -less sweet for the slight restraint under which they laboured; for -there are times, as every one must have felt, when the partial -indulgence of our feelings gives greater delight than even the full -enjoyment, as the slight airy haze which sometimes covers a landscape -makes it seem more beautiful than it would appear, unveiled and -distinct. The time soon came, however, when he could come down to the -drawing-room, and sit with her there alone, but it was only during one -day that he enjoyed that privilege, for William Barham, who had -previously remained almost entirely in Mr. Carr's room, except in -those hours when he was rambling over the country round, now contrived -to intrude his society continually upon Morley Ernstein and Juliet, -although it must have been very evident to him that his company was -anything but pleasant to them, and although he himself always seemed -ill at ease in the presence of the young Baronet. - -On their first interview, as may be well supposed, Morley was not a -little surprised to find him in England, and at Yelverly; but the -account of his shipwreck was soon given, and his appearance there was -explained by the old friendship of Mr. Carr for several members of his -family. After some questions on these subjects, Morley paid little or -no attention to him, except as an annoying restraint upon Juliet and -himself. In order to free himself from such a check, Morley urged the -surgeon vehemently to let him go out sooner than the man of healing -was inclined to permit. At length, however, the prohibition was taken -off; and that very day the lover accompanied Juliet Carr upon her -morning walk. But of the walk itself, and of all that followed, we -must speak in another chapter. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - - -Love is certainly a strange and wonderful power, affecting all things, -within us and without us, by its own magical influence, brightening -all things, calling forth beauty from all things, bringing out -infinite variety from objects that would otherwise be tame and full of -sameness, and impressing with the stamp of immortal memory, feelings, -thoughts, and words that seem the most evanescent, light, and -transitory. - -Morley and Juliet walked on with love for their sole companion; but, -oh! how that sweet comrade of the way enriched with marvellous -splendour the calm fields of Yelverly! But not only for them did he -produce changes, but in them also were wonderful alterations effected. -The lovely countenance of Juliet Carr, always full of deep and high -expression, now became the mirror of all the thousand emotions that -trembled in her bosom. It was like a beautiful lake, rippled by the -gentle wind of an April day, which wafted over it innumerable bright -gleams and soft shadows, rendering it not only lovely in itself, but -lovely in its varieties. The sunshine was predominant, though there -were still some clouds, as I have said, for where can there be vast -hopes without light fears? and though Juliet knew not what it was she -apprehended, yet, from time to time, there was a doubt came over her -to soften the feeling of joy, like the flattened third, which will -often throw into a gay piece of music a tone of melancholy, which -renders the whole far more touching. - -She knew not, as I have said, what she doubted or what she feared; and -perhaps such fears as she did entertain might arise only from that -uncertainty of the stability of any human enjoyment which is implanted -in the deepest depths of man's heart--a voice, as it were, from the -tomb, telling him that all in this unstable world must perish and pass -away--the brightest hopes, the warmest feelings, the fondest -affections, purposes, desires, enjoyments, must know decay as well as -every other earthly thing, as well as every leaf, and flower, and -bright form, and beautiful conception, and give place to things of -other unknown worlds, which, we may fondly trust, are more stable than -any of the joys of this. It might be that impression of the mortality -of all this earth's beings that made Juliet Carr, even in the midst of -love and joy, feel the faint shadow of some undefined apprehensions -cross the sunshine of her mind from time to time. Nevertheless, the -summer of love was not less bright, the harvest of joy not less -abundant. - -With Morley Ernstein that bright dream of youth was warmer and more -glowing still, and he would have called himself completely happy, had -it not been that fate still left that _something to be wished for_ -which accompanies us from the cradle to the grave--which is an -absolute ingredient in all the happiness of this earth where fruition -is but a point, and which leads us on to that grand state of being -where everything is eternal, whether it be joy, and hope, and love, or -pain, remorse, and despair,--that something to be wished for, the -great main-spring of human action and endeavour, without which the -senses, and the heart, and the brain would all stand still, like a -clock run down,--that something to be wished for, which leads us -sweetly on from the soft days of infancy, when we clutch with feeble -efforts the daisy in the grass, through the flowery paths of love, -through the noble but more laborious ways of a high ambition, unto the -bed of death itself, where, still beyond the tomb, the higher, holier -object stands, and the something to be wished for is seen, at length, -in the infinite promises of Heaven! - -That there was something to be wished for, that the hand of Juliet -Carr was not yet his, that it was still the object of hope and -expectation, could scarcely be said to diminish the enjoyment of -Morley Ernstein; but yet his eager nature, the fiery and impetuous -spirit, of which I have so often spoken, was at that time in full -ascendancy, and did not suffer the calmer, the more placid spirit of -the soul, to rest satisfied with that tranquil happiness which he -possessed, and which might have lasted for many a day longer, had he -not grasped at more. He was anxious to know his fate, he was anxious -to call Juliet his own, and he pressed her vehemently to communicate -at once to her father the love that existed between them, and to beg -his sanction of their immediate union. - -There were contending emotions in Juliet's breast, there was a timid -shrinking from the task of avowing her love to any one but him who -possessed it, and yet a reluctance to withhold any part of her -confidence from her father, even for an hour. Had it not been for this -latter feeling she would have urged Morley to wait patiently for some -time to stay till Mr. Carr was no longer oppressed and irritated by -sickness, to enjoy the bright present, and not to rush too rashly into -the dim future; but the thought of duty intervened, though she did -hesitate in some degree, saying-- - -"My father is still very unwell, Morley, and I really do not know -whether I shall have any opportunity to-day; for that youth is now -continually with him, and not only that, Morley, but when he is sick -he seems so impatient of my society, and, in spite of all that I can -do to soothe and please him, sends me so soon away, that whatever I -have to say to him I am generally compelled to say abruptly. Now, dear -Morley, I could not enter upon this subject abruptly--at least, it -would be with very great pain that I did so." - -Nevertheless, Morley Ernstein still pressed his request, and Juliet, -not grieved but agitated, consented to do what he wished, and returned -with him to the house, thoughtful, silent, and with steps somewhat -wavering and uncertain. - -"It must be done, some time, dear Juliet," said Morley, after they had -entered the mansion, "and it were better done at once, my beloved. I -will wait for you here; and, oh! come back to me, Juliet, with bright -looks and happy tidings." - -Morley Ernstein remained alone in the drawing-room, and he had not -been there five minutes before he began to think that Juliet was long -in returning. He then walked up and down the room, and looked out of -the window; and then there was the sound of a closing door, and Morley -Ernstein listened for Juliet's step. A step, indeed, was heard, but it -was not that of her he loved; and, in a minute or two after, he saw -William Barham issue forth from the porch, walk slowly up between the -yew trees, and, passing through the iron gate, stop to speak, for a -moment, with one of his (Morley's) grooms, who had brought a horse -over for him from his own house. After that the young man walked on, -and Morley Ernstein sat down and tried to look at a book. He neither -saw one letter of the printed page, nor one line of the engraving that -illustrated it, and he soon closed the volume again, and resumed his -impatient pacing up and down the room. - -A quarter of an hour went by--half-an-hour came to an end, and, -muttering, "Surely something must be the matter," Morley opened the -drawing-room door. There came a low murmuring sound from the chamber -of Mr. Carr, as if two persons were conversing eagerly, and in the -tone of one of them Morley recognised, at once, the voice of Juliet. -Although the door between Mr. Carr's room and the passage prevented -what was said from being heard, Morley instantly drew back, lest even -a word should catch his ear; but he was not destined to remain long in -suspense. A moment after, the door of Mr. Carr's room opened and -closed, and the step of Juliet Carr was heard in the passage. But -where was its elastic lightness? Where the quick and bounding tread -with which she used to seek the room where Morley Ernstein waited her? - -She came slowly, seemingly sadly. He could bear the doubt no more, and -once more going forth, he looked up the passage in the direction of -Mr. Carr's chamber. Juliet was there, but she was pale, trembling, -supporting her half-fainting steps by laying her hand upon the cornice -of the old wainscot, and with her bright eyes deluged in tears. -As soon as she saw him, she made an effort and came forward more -quickly, and Morley, throwing his arm around her, drew her into the -drawing-room and closed the door. He pressed her to his bosom, he -asked her again and again, in a tone of wild anxiety, what it was that -grieved her; but Juliet continued to hide her face upon his breast, -and weep in silence for several minutes, speech, and almost thought, -seeming for the time denied to her. - -At length, however, she sobbed forth a few inarticulate words. They -were merely--"It is all in vain, Morley--it is all in vain! I can -never be yours. I have promised not to stay with you either--I must -leave you, to see you no more;" and again her face, which she had -raised for a moment to speak, fell upon his bosom, and her eyes -deluged it with tears. - -"God of Heaven!" cried Morley Ernstein, "what is the meaning of this, -Juliet? I must not--I cannot--I will not, lose you so! To what can -your father object? With what can he find fault, in myself, my -fortune, and my station?" - -"It is not that--it is not that!" cried Juliet. "It is ancient hatred, -Morley--it is other plans, other designs. Oh, Heaven! that my father -should ever have a share in causing you such grief!" - -"Grief, indeed?" cried Morley Ernstein. "But will you, Juliet--will -you suffer yourself to be the means of inflicting such grief upon me? -Juliet, you must not, you cannot act so. You are pledged and plighted -to me. You are mine, my beloved, and I will never forego my claim upon -your hand. Oh, Juliet! if you love me, if you have ever loved me, you -will not fail me now in this hour of terrible trial. Juliet, you must -consent to be mine at all risks, and without the consent of any one, -if that consent is withheld upon such unworthy grounds. If one word -can be brought against my character and reputation, if it can be shewn -that I have done anything in life base, dishonourable, or wrong, I -will submit, not without agony, but without a murmur. But, Juliet, if -such is not the case, and if you have no reason to believe that I am -unworthy of you, you have a duty to perform to me as well as to -others, and, dear Juliet, I call upon you; by every tie of love and -affection, to perform it at once. You have no right, Juliet, to be the -means of trampling upon my heart; to doom all my future years to -misery and solitary despair, to take away all the brightness of my -youth, and but to bless me for a moment in order to make me miserable -for ever. Fly with me, Juliet--fly with me! Once united, your father -will readily forgive a step to which he himself drove us. Fly with me, -and be mine at once--." - -As he spoke he pressed her closer to his bosom, but Juliet drew back -and disengaged herself from his arms, still leaving her hand in his, -however. "Morley, it must not, and it cannot be," she said. "What! -would you have Juliet Carr fly from the house of her sick father, for -the purpose of violating his express commands? Oh, no, Morley!--no, -that can never be. You would despise me if I did it. But that is not -the only obstacle, Morley; there are a thousand things that you will -learn too soon, which would render it impossible for me to give you my -hand now, even were I willing to forget my duty to my parent. Oh, no, -no," she continued, while the tears which had ceased for a moment -again burst forth from her eyes--"the time will come when you will -hate me, Morley, when you will abhor the day that you first knew -anything of me or mine. That--that is worse than anything to bear--to -think that you should ever have cause to look upon the day that you -met Juliet Carr, as the most unfortunate of your life." - -Morley Ernstein gazed upon her for a moment in silence, puzzled by the -words she uttered; but at length he said--"What is it you mean, -Juliet?--You are going to give your hand to another? Oh, Juliet Carr! -beware, beware! Think upon the responsibility you draw upon your own -head. Remember, you not only blast my happiness and peace for ever, -but you take from me all confidence in virtue--all belief in -honour--all trust in human love! You drive me to vice, to wickedness, -perhaps to crime; you plunge me into that whirl of dissipation and -folly, which is the only resource for reckless, hopeless, trustless -despair.--Juliet, you are going to wed another, and ruin both yourself -and me!" - -"Never, never, never!" cried Juliet, vehemently. "Morley, you do me -wrong; indeed, indeed you do! I call that God to witness, whose will I -believe I am obeying in sacrificing my own happiness to the commands -of my parent, that no consideration upon earth shall ever induce me to -give my hand to any other man; that I will love you ever, dear Morley, -to the last hour of my life, that I will pray for you as for a brother -dearest to my heart, and that, when death shall free me from a world -where there is nothing but sorrow before me, you shall have a token to -know that my affection was unchanged even to the last hour. I ask -nothing of you, Morley, in return," she continued, after a moment's -pause--"I ask nothing in return, but that you should try never to -think harshly of poor Juliet Carr; to separate her acts in your mind -from the acts of others, and, if you have ever loved her and esteemed -her truly, to remember her but for the purpose of keeping yourself -firm and steadfast in all those high and noble principles that shed -around you a glory in her eyes which shall never pass away from the -picture that memory will supply of the only man she ever loved. Let me -ever hear of you with pride and pleasure, Morley. Let me hear, too, of -your being happy--as happy as the circumstances will permit. Yes, -Morley," she added, laying both her hands gently upon his arm, "happy -with another, who may love you, perhaps, nearly as well as I do, and -who may render your future life brighter than I can do. Oh, yes, -Morley! yes, you were not formed for solitary existence. You were -formed for giving and receiving happiness, and night and day will I -pray that it may be your lot, and that, whatever course of life you -pursue, you may ever be remembered amongst the great, and good, and -happy." - -Morley cast himself down in a seat, and hid his eyes with his hands; -not that they contained a tear, for they burned in his head like -living coals, but to shut out, as it were, the terrible and confused -images that flitted before his sight as a vision of the future. - -"Farewell, Morley," said the voice of Juliet, sadly and solemnly, as -if she was speaking on the bed of death--"farewell, Morley--farewell -for ever!" - -Morley Ernstein started up and caught her again to his bosom. Tears -came then to his relief, he kissed her again and again with agony -which those only can conceive who have known what it is to part for -ever with those that they loved best on earth. Juliet wept, too, in -silence for a moment, and then again murmuring--"Farewell!" she tore -herself from him, and darted away. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - - -The chilly wind that sighed in long heavy gusts over moor and fell and -wild grass-covered mountain, the damp rawness of the air, the heavy -clouds that lay detached in strange-shaped masses upon the edge of the -distant horizon, all told that the sweet season of the summer was come -to a close, and that the world was dropping into the old age of the -year. - -In the northern parts of England, the summer often seems to go out, as -it were, at once, and autumn, especially towards sunset, puts on the -chilling aspect of the winter. But the moment at which I choose to -open this chapter was beyond that of sunset by some hours, and the -traveller who rode alone through a wild, bleak part of Northumberland, -appeared, by the rapidity of his pace, to be eager to arrive at some -place of shelter for the night. Such, however, was not the case; and -little did that traveller care at what hour he reached the home to -which his steps were bent, for despair was in his heart, and all was -barren. The cheerful hall, the blazing hearth, the gay banquet, the -familiar faces, were all to him cold, and lifeless, and not less -desert than the wild hill-side over which he now took his impetuous -way. - -The fresh and beaming countenance of Morley Ernstein, which but a few -short months before, when he was first introduced to the reader, -breathed health, and strength, and energy, was now pale, and anxious, -and depressed. The air, the bland expression of youth, was gone, -sorrow and disappointment, and strong passionate thought, had set the -seal of mature life upon his brow. Every touch of early years and -fresh inexperience was done away, and any one who could have looked -upon his countenance would have said that six or seven-and-twenty -years must have passed over his head, rather than the shorter, -brighter count of one-and-twenty. - -Though the night was chilly and raw, as I have stated, it was not -dark; a grey film indeed covered the sky, composed of cold damp -vapours, driven hastily along by the keen wind. But beneath was the -moon, which was now near the edge of the horizon, and which not only -afforded a considerable portion of light, even when her broad disk was -not seen, but from time to time glanced through the hurrying clouds, -and glared, large, and cold, and wan upon the traveller's eye. - -Still he rode forward along the sandy road, now having nothing before -him but the dim forms of the hills over which his way lay, cutting -upon the sky, now catching a glimpse of some distant tower or village -steeple, rising black and sad above the horizon for a moment, and then -sinking into the confused darkness of all around, as he dashed onward. -At length the light-coloured sand, which had marked out the road, -became mingled with some darker substance, and the path he was -following was thenceforth scarcely to be distinguished. The speed of -the traveller, however, was not relaxed, and with that sort of -recklessness which bitter disappointment brings with it, instead of -striving to guide his horse he let the rein float loose upon the -animal's neck, thinking--"He will find his way--and if not, it matters -little." - -He was thus crossing an open moor at a rapid rate when a faint cry of -some kind struck his ear. He paid no attention to it, however, -thinking that it proceeded from some wild bird of night, startled from -its marshy nest by the sounding feet of his horse; and rode quickly -on, still plunged in his own thoughts, when suddenly the beast that -bore him shied wildly from some object at the side of the road, and -Morley Ernstein, catching up the rein, drew the animal in, and turned -his head towards the thing that had frightened him. He then heard the -voice of a child, apparently crying bitterly, and although he had -become by this time reckless and careless of himself, the better part -of his heart's feelings was still untouched, and, springing to the -ground, he approached the spot where the little wanderer sat. - -Morley found there a boy of about four years old, who at first made no -answer to his manifold questions but by tears. At length, however, he -made out that the poor child was crying for some one whom he had lost, -and whom he called "Annie;" but difficult indeed was it to discover -where or how this person was to be found. All that the boy could tell -was, that he had left her "by the fire," and Morley in vain -endeavoured to discover where the cottage lay to the fire in which he -fancied the poor child alluded; the urchin still replying to all -enquiries that he had left Annie by the fire. - -"Well, my boy," said Morley, in a kindly tone, "shall I take you to -seek for Annie?" and the child, instantly starting up, held out his -hand. "I will take you up before me on the horse," continued -the gentleman, and the boy shewed anything but unwillingness, -exclaiming--"Harry did that." - -The young gentleman accordingly remounted, taking the little fellow up -on the pommel of the saddle. "Now, which way shall I turn, my man?" he -said. But the boy could give him no information; and he rode on, -determined to place the child in safety at the next village, and then -to send out different persons to enquire for his parents. Proceeding -more slowly than he had hitherto done, Morley advanced across the -moor, the undulations of the ground preventing him from seeing beyond -a few hundred yards around him. At length a bright glare suddenly -burst upon his sight, rising over the slope before him, and a moment -or two after he came in sight of one of those immense fires of waste -coal, which mark out the edges of pits in the North. The flame rose up -many yards in height, waving to and fro, as the keen wind drove it, -and canopying itself with a loud of lurid smoke, while below appeared -the intense glow of the fire, spreading over some twenty or thirty -feet of ground. - -"There--there's the fire!" cried the boy; "Annie's by the -fire--Annie's by the fire!" and Morley, beginning to comprehend what -the poor baby meant, pushed his horse onwards toward the glare, though -it was not without great difficulty that he forced the animal to -approach it. No human form, however, appeared by the light, and the -boy, after seeming somewhat bewildered, exclaimed--"No, it is not -there--no, it is not there.--It is the other fire." - -At the same time he pointed with his hand towards the east, and -Morley, following that indication, turned his horse once more upon the -road. As soon as he had issued forth from the bright red light that -spread around, he perceived a faint glow at some distance, in the -direction towards which the boy had pointed; and, as he rode onward, -he found that he was approaching another of the pit-mouths, where a -still larger pile of waste coal than that which he had before seen was -blazing up into the sky. Before he reached it, however, the road -dipped down into a little ravine, and as he followed its course, -losing sight of the fire for a moment, he heard the voice of -lamentation, and a moment or two afterwards some one from the top of -the bank exclaimed, in a tone of agony--"Have you found him, -Harry?--have you found him?" - -Morley drew in his horse. "If it be of a child you are speaking," he -cried, raising his voice, "I have just found one on the moor. He is -quite safe, and I will bring him round to the fire a minute." - -The voice which had spoken made no reply, but in a moment or two -after, Morley's horse carried him again within sight of the pit-mouth, -which was still at the distance of three or four hundred yards. By the -light of the burning coal, he beheld a female figure walking about -with gesticulations which he easily conceived to be those of grief; -but it was evident that the person whom he there saw could not be the -woman whose voice he had heard from above, when he was in the ravine. -He rode on, however, towards the fire, and was again saluted by the -name of Harry as he came up, though, the moment after, the mistake was -perceived, and the old woman, for such she was, who stood by the -blaze, drew back a step or two, as if inclined to avoid him. No sooner -did she behold the child, however, than she darted forward, and held -out her arms, exclaiming, with a wild cry of joy--"He's saved!--he's -saved!" - -The young gentleman lifted the boy gently down to her, and then -dismounted himself, not a little interested in all that he saw; and, -to say the truth, at that moment Morley Ernstein was not a little glad -to find that any subject upon earth could afford him matter of -interest even for a moment; for the dull and heavy load of despair was -upon his heart, and, not an hour before, all the things of life had -seemed in his eyes to have become light and valueless when put in the -balance against that ponderous weight. - -The woman's first impulse led her to kiss the child again and again, -even before she offered any thanks to his restorer. The boy also -shewed not a little joy at finding himself again in the arms of the -old woman, and by the terms of endearment which he applied to her, -Morley discovered that it was herself he had wished to designate by -the name of Annie--by which, probably, he meant Granny. While he stood -and gazed, however, at the joyful meeting, between old age and -infancy, the group was joined by another person, who seemed more -deeply affected than even the old dame. It was a young woman of some -three or four-and-twenty years of age, who now came running at full -speed from the bank above the ravine, and she, too, without noticing -Morley, caught the child to her bosom, pressing it close, and kissing -it a thousand times. The young Baronet did not doubt for a moment that -she was the boy's mother, for only a mother's heart could prompt such -emotions as he there beheld. - -When she had given vent to her feelings for a moment or two, however, -she set the child down beside her, still holding it tight by the hand, -and turned to gaze in silence upon Morley Ernstein, in which -occupation the old woman was already deeply busy. - -Morley returned the enquiring looks of both; for, to say the truth, he -was somewhat surprised at the reception which he met with, and that -not the slightest word of thanks or gratitude was proffered by either -of the women for that which they evidently conceived to be a very -great service. He could understand, indeed, that the elder woman -might, either from natural rudeness or from timidity, be unwilling or -unable to express her thanks, for she was plain and homely in her -attire, and in her appearance altogether, and was evidently a person -of the lower orders. The younger woman was not only pretty, graceful, -and dressed in a style very much superior to her companion, but was -distinguished by a lady-like and intelligent look, which seemed to -promise a mind capable of comprehending what was due to her child's -deliverer, and of expressing it easily and well. Both, however, gazed -for more than a minute at Morley Ernstein without speaking, and then -turned their looks enquiringly towards each other, as if doubtful what -to say or how to act, and at length the younger drew the elder aside, -and spoke to her for a moment or two in a whisper, while Morley -Ernstein looked around him, not a little surprised at everything that -he beheld. - -Morley was unacquainted with that part of the country, having never -visited his northern estates; and the sight of those immense fires, -blazing in the midst of the night, surrounded by wild moors and naked -hills, was calculated in itself to excite an imagination unusually -rich and active, while the meeting with those two women in the midst -of so desolate a scene, with not a trace of human habitation, except a -low, miserable shed of turf, which he saw not far from the mouth of -the pit, and some of the machinery for raising coal, which lay at no -great distance, supplied plenty of materials for fancy to work upon. -Their strange manner, too; the contrast between the appearance of the -one and that of the other; their deep emotions at recovering the -child, and yet their seeming ingratitude to him who restored it; were -all matters of curious speculation, and for the time diverted Morley's -mind from the thought of himself. - -"I will stay and see what comes of all this," he said to himself. -"Occupation must now be my great object in life, the deadening of -remembrance and regret, the striving for forgetfulness. I may as well -take the matter for fresh thoughts wherever I find it.--I will pass -the night here, it will be better than the dull solitude of Warmstone, -where I should have nothing but bitter memory for my companion." - -As he thus communed with himself, the murmured conversation between -the two women was brought to an end, and the younger one advanced -towards him, still speaking a word or two more to the other, "No, no, -mother," she said, "he is not one of those; I know such sort of people -better than you do. They may put on the clothes of a gentleman, but -they never look like him. This is not one of them, depend upon it. See -how he stands; you never saw a thief-taker stand like that." - -The old woman made no reply, and the young one continued addressing -herself now to Morley Ernstein. "I am very much obliged to you, sir," -she said, "and thank you a thousand times for saving my child, and -bringing him back to me. He strayed away from his grandmother while -she fell asleep by the fire, and we feared that he might have fallen -into some old pit. I am very much obliged to you, sir, indeed, and -thank you with my whole heart!" - -As she spoke, she made Morley a low and graceful courtesy; but he -replied, "Is not your husband looking for the child?--What you said to -me from the top of the bank, when you first heard my horse's feet, -made me think so, at least." - -"He _is_ looking for the boy, sir," answered the younger woman, "but -he will soon be back again.--I am very much obliged to you, sir;" and -again she made a low courtesy, as if to intimate that she wished the -conference to come to an end. But Morley did not choose that such -should be the case, and he exclaimed--"I will go and seek for him. He -is doubtless anxious about the child, and may very likely not return -for long, unless he knows that the boy is found." - -"Oh, he will return--he will return!--there is no fear, sir," replied -the younger woman. "He is anxious enough, poor fellow, no doubt; but -he will soon return, I am sure." - -"You had better go away, young gentleman--you had better go away," -cried the old woman, chiming in, with a more peremptory tone; "they -are wild people in these parts, and you can do no good by staying -here, and may do harm. You had better go away, I say, for this is no -place for you--nor for me either," she added, in a lower tone. "I was -never born for all this." - -I have attempted to shew before, that the mind of Morley Ernstein was -not very susceptible of fear; and though there was certainly a sort of -menace in the tone of the old woman, his curiosity was but the more -excited, and he replied, without hesitation--"Oh, dear, no! You had -better let me go and look for him. It is the way of this world, where -a man who has lost one thing must always go and help his neighbour who -has lost something else." - -"I think you are laughing at us," said the younger woman, gravely; -"and I tell you, too, I wish you would go, sir. It may be better for -you if you do. If you have really lost anything, and any one here has -found it, it shall be sent back to you." - -"I am not laughing at you, my good lady," replied Morley; "what I have -lost is my way, and I meant that I was going to call your husband back -to his, when I have lost my own. Thus it was myself I was laughing at, -if at any one. But the truth is, having, as I said, lost my way, I am -about to ask you for shelter here during the night, as I must have, by -the best calculation I can make, some sixteen or seventeen miles, if -not more, to ride to my own home." - -"Shelter here!" cried the old woman, looking at him eagerly, and even -sternly--"what sort of shelter do you expect here, young man? Is this -a place to seek shelter, or are we people that can give it?" - -"I really do not know," answered Morley Ernstein. "I certainly thought -that such a thing was possible, or I should not have asked it; there -seems a cottage there----" - -Before the old woman could reply, there came the sound of a horse's -feet approaching at a quick pace, and the boy's mother, catching him -up in her arms, darted away like lightning towards the spot where she -had first been standing when met by Morley Ernstein. She seemed to -reach it before the horseman, and Morley could just hear her -exclaim--"He is safe, Harry--he is safe!--Wait till I come down to -you!--Do not come on, I have something to say." - -The horse apparently paused; for two or three minutes no other sound -was heard from that quarter; and Morley would have been left to -pursue, uninterrupted, his meditations upon the somewhat peculiar -position in which he found himself placed, had not the old woman who -stood beside him urged him somewhat eagerly to mount his horse and -ride away. - -"You don't look like a bad man," she said, "and you are certainly a -young one, and it's a pity to risk a fresh and happy life for an idle -whim. If you had seen as much sorrow as I have, you might very well -sport with danger; but now, I tell you fairly, you are hazarding your -life for nothing." - -"I have seen sorrow enough, my good dame," replied Morley, "to care -very little about life; but I believe, as you say, it were better not -to risk it. We have no right to do so in this world; God gave it to, -us for others, as much, if not more, than for ourselves. I will take -your advice, then, and go." - -Thus saying, he put his foot in the stirrup, mounted, and turned the -rein to ride away; but he could not make up his mind to go fast, for -the idea of flight from any sort of danger was unpleasant to him. -Before he had gone two yards, then, the sound of the other horse's -feet was renewed, and a moment after he saw a stout man, mounted on a -powerful grey, come round by the road which he himself had followed, -and approach at a quick pace towards the fire. - -The young Baronet felt that a struggle might be approaching of a -somewhat desperate character, and he grasped his riding-whip by the -middle, without any sensation of fear, certainly, but with that degree -of emotion which every one must experience at the prospect of coming -strife. Without taking any apparent notice of the new comer, however, -he pursued his way in the direct course, which he had at first taken, -and which brought him within about ten yards of the path along which -the other was now approaching. - -Morley rode on, but as they crossed each other, the child's father -drew up his horse, and seemed to gaze at the young Baronet -attentively. He then said, "Good night!" to which Morley replied by -exactly the same salutation, still riding on. The next instant, -however, the other exclaimed--"Holloa! Sir Morley Ernstein! You must -give a word to an old acquaintance, after bringing us back the babe!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - - -The old and vulgar proverb--that misfortune makes us acquainted with -strange bedfellows, is true in more senses than in one; for it not -only brings us into contact with persons that we should never -otherwise have met, but it makes us seek companionships which nothing -else, perhaps, could have produced. To be recognised in such a tone, -in such a place, might at any other time have made Morley Ernstein -start with some surprise; but now he drew in his horse calmly and -deliberately, and turned towards the man who addressed him, very -little caring, to say the truth, who was the person, or what was his -trade. In the meanwhile the other approached, and the light of the -fire was sufficiently strong where they stood to shew Morley a -countenance that was familiar to him, but which, for a moment, he -could not connect in memory with any particular circumstance or -situation. - -"Ay, you don't recollect me, sir," said the man; "and you saw me only -in a place which I should not think of mentioning anywhere else than -where we now stand--nor, indeed, for that matter, should I take the -liberty of claiming acquaintance with you here, only it can do you no -harm, and I wish to thank you for bringing back the babe." - -While he had been speaking, the man's voice led Morley's mind back, by -the paths of remembrance, to the point in the past which referred to -their first meeting. "I recollect you, now, Mr. Martin," he said; -"but, to say the truth, we are at such a distance from the spot where -we last saw each other, that you took me by surprise. So this was your -child I found upon the common. How did it happen to stray so? The poor -thing might have perished in such a night as this." - -"True, sir--true!" replied Harry Martin, for it was that bold, and -somewhat unscrupulous personage with whom Morley now stood face to -face. "True, sir--true, the boy might have perished, and with him my -only tie to life. No, not my only tie either, for there is my poor -girl, Mary, I must think of her a bit, too, though I often fancy she -would be better off if I were gone. She would have been better off, -sure enough, if she had never known me; but, however, she loves me, -and I love her, dear little soul; and though I know you gentle people -and others think that we in our way of life have little or no feelings -of any kind, but just to drink and smoke, and fight a main of cocks, -or something of that sort, yet it is not altogether so either, and we -can love our wife, or our sweetheart, or our child, just as much as -the best in the land. I know one thing, that if we had lost the babe, -it would have broke my heart outright, though I I can remember very -well the time when I did not care anything about children, and thought -they would only be a bother to one; but, somehow, since I had one of -my own, I have got very fond of it, and I don't know how it is that -fondness has made me think very differently of many other things too. -So you see, sir, I am very much obliged to you,--only there is one -favour I'll ask of you, which is not just to mention that you have -seen me here; for the beaks are after me for a little job I did some -time ago, and I think of taking a swim over the herring-pond as a -volunteer, for fear, as they say on board the ships, they should make -me work my passage to Heaven by pulling at a rope's-end." - -"I will certainly not mention it, Martin," replied Morley; "but I -should like to hear something more of you. I asked that young woman, -who is, I suppose, your wife, and her companion, to give me shelter in -the cottage for this night, having got somewhat out of my way, and -being, I fancy, some sixteen or seventeen miles from Warmstone -Castle." - -"Not so far as that, sir--not so far as that," said Harry Martin; -"but, nevertheless, you shall be welcome to stay if you like it. I -know I can trust you; but the women did not know who you were, and -they are in a sad fright about me, poor things! I had left them, for -an hour or two, to go and look out for news; but my poor wife could -not be satisfied, and as I did not come so soon as she expected, went -away to meet me, leaving the boy with his grandmother. The poor old -woman was so tired with all our dodging about for the last two or -three days, that she fell asleep by the fire, and the boy strayed away -after a will-o-the-wisp, or something of that kind, I suppose. But -come, Sir Morley, if you like to stay with us, we will do the best we -can for you, though what you call a cottage is but a hovel, and that -the two women must have. There are some pitmen's cottages, however, -two miles further up on the moor; but between you and I, bad as they -call me, you may rest more safely with me than with them." - -"I will stay by your fire, Martin," said Morley, dismounting and -leading his horse back; and in a few minutes more, after some -formalities and introductions of a particular kind, he was seated in -what may be called Harry Martin's domestic circle, and in full -conversation with him, his wife, and mother-in-law. - -He perceived that the elder woman looked at him hard from time to -time, and at length she said--"I was stupid not to know you, Sir -Morley, for you are so like your father. There is something of your -mother, too, about the eyes, but you are more like your father." - -"I suppose you knew my father well, then?" answered Morley, looking at -her steadfastly, in order to see whether he could trace in her worn, -but still fine features, the countenance of any of the dependents of -his family whom he had known in youth. It was in vain that he did so, -however; the face of the old woman was quite unknown to him, as her -reply soon showed him that it must be. - -"Ay, I did know him well," replied the old woman, "and a good man he -was. I wish I had always followed what he told me. It is now about -eighteen years since I saw him, and then he said, very truly, that -those who seek riches by wrong means, are sure to find poverty -straight on their road." - -"I certainly am sorry that you did not take his advice," said Morley; -"but I trust you were led to do nothing very wrong in opposition to -his counsel." - -"Tut, nonsense, granny!" cried Harry Martin; "you are doting with your -old stories. What wrong did you ever do, if it was not letting me -marry your daughter? You were as good an old body as ever lived, and -as thriving a one, too, after you came back from India, till both -mother and daughter, I believe, fell in love with a scapegrace like -myself." - -"I did not fall in love with you, Harry," replied the old woman; "but -I thought you better than you seemed, and, to say the truth better -than you are. You were frank and free; I believed you would be kind to -my poor girl, and, to do you but justice, you have been so. But what I -am talking about is many years ago; she was then a babe, not so big as -little Harry here, and I was the wife of Serjeant More, a good man and -a kind, but somewhat too fond of money withal. Ay, it was a bad -business, that; but it is of no use thinking of it now. I have not -been in those parts, sir," she continued, "since I came back to -England, and I should like much to hear of all the people there. Your -father is dead, sir, I know; pray, how is your mother? She was a -beautiful creature!" - -"Alas!" replied Morley, "she has been long dead, too." - -"Well-a-day!" exclaimed the old woman, and then, after a pause, she -asked--"and Mr. Sanderstead's family, sir--how are they? He was just -married then." - -"He has now eight or nine daughters, I believe," answered Morley; "I -know the room was full of them when I called there one morning." - -"Ay," said the old woman, abstractedly, "and what has become of Lawyer -Carr and his wife?" - -Morley shrunk, as if a rude hand had been laid upon a fresh wound, but -he replied, after a moment's hesitation--"The old man is still living, -but his wife has been dead, I find, for some years." - -"Dead!--dead!" cried the old woman; "and is the child living--the -daughter?" - -"Yes, she is," replied Morley, rising--"she is living--Martin, I think -I shall go on." - -"Why, what's the matter, sir?" said Harry Martin, gazing on the young -Baronet's face; "a minute ago you were all for staying, and now you -must be gone." - -"I am, perhaps, whimsical," replied Morley Ernstein; "I have become so -lately. However, before I go, let me speak a word or two with you on -your own affairs. You talk of going to America, if I understood you -rightly. I do not wish to hear why, or anything about it--I can guess, -perhaps; but two women and a child must be a burden to you under such -circumstances. If they like to come up to Warmstone, while you make -your escape, there is a vacant cottage, I hear from my agent, which -they can have, till they go to join you. Some furniture can be sent -down from the Castle, and if you think fit, I will give full orders -before I leave Warmstone, for I shall not be there more than a day." - -Harry Martin had risen while Morley was speaking, and was gazing in -his face, with an expression in which doubt and suspicion seemed to -mingle with satisfaction. "I don't think you would play me a trick, -sir," he said, as Morley concluded, "and yet it's strange enough, your -starting up in that way the moment the old woman mentioned Lawyer -Carr!" - -Morley returned his gaze with a look of unmixed surprise, "I don't -understand what you mean," he answered; "what have you to do with -Lawyer Carr? or Lawyer Carr to do with you?" - -"Everything in the world," cried Harry Martin, knitting his brows, and -stamping his foot--"everything in the world--don't you know that?" - -It was the old woman who now replied, for she seemed now the most -astonished of the party, and catching Martin by the arm, she -asked--"Is it old Carr, then, that you are afraid of? He had better -not touch a hair of your head!" - -"Nonsense--nonsense, granny!" said the man; "you don't understand what -you are talking about. But I see Sir Morley has not heard of the job. -Sir, I'm very much obliged to you for your offer, and wont say No, but -will just talk to my wife about it after you are gone, if it would not -be too much trouble for you to give the orders upon the chance." - -"I will not fail to have the place put in order," replied Morley; "and -you may be sure that if they do come, they shall be well taken care -of. As for yourself, Martin, I can offer you nothing, for your own -words have, of course, given me to suspect that you have placed -yourself in a situation which precludes me from affording you shelter, -or any sort of aid, except of a pecuniary kind. If, however, you are -in want of money, all that I have about me is at your service." - -"Thank you, sir," said Martin, with a light, laugh at the double -meaning of that which was about to spring from his lips; "I am very -much obliged to you, but I do not want your money, or I would have -taken it, I can assure you.--Though that is not true either," he -added; "I might have taken a stranger's, but not yours, Sir Morley; -but the fact is, I don't want money." - -"Of that I am very happy," answered Morley; "but I cannot help -expressing a regret, Martin, that you should adhere to a course so -dangerous as well as so evil. I thought, when first I saw you, and -think still, that you were intended for better things, and might -distinguish yourself, and raise yourself high in a good and honourable -course." - -The man he spoke to cast down his eyes, and gazed musingly upon the -ground for several minutes, but he then replied--"Thank you, sir, for -your good opinion; but it's all nonsense talking or thinking of such -things now--it's too late in the day to mend. The worst of the laws of -this country, and of what people call society, is, that they never -allow any man to get better. A man may get worse in this world every -day, if he likes it; the bad road is always open before him, and -plenty there are to drive him on upon it. But if he tries to go back -again, sir, to the good road that he has left, there is sure to be -some one to bang the turnpike in his face, and stop him ere he has got -half a mile. I cannot help thinking, sir, that it is a pity those men -who set about making laws and customs, do not recollect that there is -such a thing as amending as well as punishing. I believe it would be -better for all of us if they did; for now, even a hardened scoundrel -like myself, as they would call me if I were in a prison tomorrow, -why, a very little thing would have made me a better man at one time, -and I don't believe it would take very much even now. It may be an odd -thing to say, for a man who does something wrong every day, that he -never does anything that is wrong without being sorry for it very soon -after it's done; but yet it is true; and, even now, a word or two of -encouragement, such as you spoke to me just this minute, makes me feel -quite vexed with myself that I have not gone in the right way instead -of the wrong." - -"There is some truth in what you say," replied Morley, "that our laws -and our customs, in dealing both with man and woman, seem to lose -sight altogether of the great object of reformation. Terror is the -only instrument we use, and terror never yet reclaimed. Nevertheless, -though the path back, Martin, must always be more difficult and -laborious than the path onward, still I believe it may be trodden, if -a man have a strong heart and a good resolution; and I trust that, -when you have made your escape to another country, and are out of -danger altogether, you will think of what we have been saying tonight, -and will see whether, in a new world, you cannot live a new life. - -"On my soul and honour I will, sir!" replied the man, eagerly. "I'll -do my best, at all events. I'll tell you what it is, Sir Morley -Ernstein--the thing that ruins half of us is want of hope. The least -little bit of hope would very often lead on a man to do much better, -but we don't get it, sir. Once we have done amiss, as the world goes -now, there's no object in stopping. However, sir, I have had some -encouragement, and, as I said just now, I'll do my best, if I can -contrive to get off this time." - -"I trust you may do both," replied Morley--"I trust you may do both, -my good friend, for I believe that you are not without good feelings, -if they were well directed. But I will now go on, and before to-morrow -night the cottage shall be all ready for your wife and her mother." - -"Stay a bit, sir," said Harry Martin; "I'll walk up with you beyond -the pitmen's hovels. They are somewhat of a wild set, and some of them -may be stirring yet." - -Morley threw the rein of his horse over his arm, and walked on with -Harry Martin by his side. Most men would have considered it not the -safest sort of companionship in the world; but no idea of danger to -himself crossed the young Baronet's mind, and his thoughts, to say the -truth, were busy in a struggle which every one must have endured who -has felt for his fellow-creatures. - -Amongst all the pieces of casuistry which man puts to his own heart, -there is none more difficult, I might say more painful, to resolve, -than the question of where lenity should stop and just severity begin; -how far, in short, compassion for an offender may be extended, without -injustice to the innocent and to society. I must not say that Morley -felt a strong inclination to aid the man, Martin, in making his -escape, for that was not altogether the sensation which affected him; -but he did regret sincerely, that what he owed to the laws of his -country, prevented him from aiding, in the least degree, the flight of -one whom he believed to be formed for better things, and in whom he -saw, or thought he saw, a tendency to repentance, which would -certainly lead to a new course of life. Nevertheless, he felt that he -had no right to place his individual opinion, his hopes or -expectations, of the man's reformation in direct opposition to the law -of the land, and, consequently, he felt anxious to turn from the -subject as soon as possible, though he felt some difficulty in so -doing. - -Harry Martin himself, however, soon relieved him by speaking -first--"Pray, Sir Morley," he said--"can you tell me what has become -of that young scamp, William Barham? I saw him after he escaped from -being drowned--which he never will be, if there's truth in the old -proverb--for he is as bad a youth as ever lived or died unhanged. He -partly put me up to this last job, and then, when it was done, sneaked -out of the way somewhere, and I never could get sight of him -afterwards." - -The recollection of the last time he had seen William Barham was, -as the reader may suppose, agitating to Morley Ernstein; but he was -more upon his guard upon the present occasion, than when all the -painful circumstances of his fate had been suddenly recalled to his -mind, a few minutes before, by the questions of the old woman. He -paused for a moment, indeed, ere he replied; but he then answered -calmly enough--"Not many days ago, he was staying at the house of Mr. -Carr, at Yelverly." - -"Ha!" replied his companion; "the young villain's betraying me: he is -fit to sell his own soul, though it is not worth buying if he did; but -he had better take care what he is about, or I will break his neck for -him." - -"Do nothing rashly, Martin," replied Morley Ernstein; "he is, I -believe, bad enough; but I have a faint recollection of having heard -that some connexion or other has been discovered between him and Mr. -Carr--some relationship or friendship between their parents--I forget -what; but, certainly, it had no reference to you." - -"I trust it has not," replied Martin, in the same stern tone with -which he had before spoken; but he still seemed dissatisfied, and -continued to walk by Morley's side in silence, till they had passed a -long row of low-built cottages, and had gone on for about half a mile -on the moor. At length he paused, and pointing on the road before him, -he said--"That is your way, sir. About a mile on you will find a -finger-post, with two roads separating to the right and left; take the -left-hand road, and follow it till you come to a village, where you -must get further directions. Good night, sir!" - -Morley wished him good night, and was about to proceed, but he thought -he perceived a degree of hesitation in the man's manner, which made -him pause for a moment. "You seem to have something more to tell me, -Martin," he said; "speak without reserve, if you have." - -"Why, there is a word or two, sir," replied Harry Martin, approaching -close to his horse's side, and speaking in a low tone. "If things go -right with me, and I get away, it's all well and good; but you know, -sir, matters may go another way, and then the game's up. As for dying, -I declare, I care no more about it, than about going to sleep; but you -see, sir, there's my poor wife--she is as good a girl as ever lived, -and I don't know how or why it is, but since we were married it has -made a great difference in me. I am not half so wild as I was before; -and I have got a sort of tenderness, if I may call it so, towards all -women for her sake. I believe it is, that I did no rightly know what a -good woman was before I married her; but it is very different now, and -that is the only thing that rests upon my mind. You see, sir, she has -never been used to hard work, but has been brought up as a sort of a -lady, and if I were gone, what would come of her? I think, if I knew -she would be well taken care of, I should not care for anything in -life." - -"Make your mind easy," said Morley, "though I cannot exactly say what -I should be able to do for her under such circumstances; I will -promise you to see her established in some honest way of life--some -small school, or other thing, that does not imply any severe -exertion." - -The man made no answer, but he grasped the young Baronet's hand tight, -in a way that was not to be mistaken, and thus they parted. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - - -Morley Ernstein rode on more slowly than during the former part of his -journey. His mood was changed, another spirit had come over him. It -was no longer the rash, and reckless vehemence of bitter, perhaps we -might call it angry, disappointment, that tenanted his bosom; but it -was the dark, sad, listlessness of a heart which has given up all -expectation for itself, and only lives faintly in its sympathies with -others. If ever the poet's words were made true, it was in his case, -for "black care did, indeed, sit behind the horseman," and was his -only companion by the way. His mind rested frequently, it is true, -upon the fate and character of the man he had just left, but it was -with a vague, careless, indistinctness of thought, very, very -different from the keen and eager scrutiny which he gave to every -phase of human life, in former times. He thought too, occasionally, of -himself--of the change which he felt had come upon him--of the -lifelessness of the world around--of the painful memories of the -past--of the dull and cheerless prospects of the future. He asked -himself, what he should do to fill up existence? and he answered -himself, with a bitter smile--"It will pass somehow, I suppose; and -the space which now seems long, will probably then seem short. Man's -eye in youth is at the wrong end of the telescope. It is in age that -we see clearly how short are the spaces over which we have passed." - -Thus musing, he wended on his way, his journey being much like the -life he contemplated--dull, gloomy, dark, and long; but yet, mile -after mile, slipping away he scarcely knew how. At length, he saw a -faint redness in the sky before him, but took little notice, thinking -that it was occasioned by another of the waste coal-fires. It grew -redder and redder, however, and touches of warm yellow began to -brighten the edges of the clouds-- - -"Can it be morning already?" he said; but the clear grey which took -place of the blackness of night, soon shewed him, that another day had -indeed begun. - -A little more than an hour after dawn brought him to a bridge over a -small stream, but he made his horse pass through the water, and -suffered it to pause to drink. As he did so he gazed around him, and -his eyes rested upon a scene strongly characteristic of that part of -the country. - -From the edge of the river stretched up a small field full of ripe -corn, which, notwithstanding the advanced period of the year, had not -yet felt the sickle. Beyond, the land rose, swelling gradually into a -considerable hill, about half way up which appeared an old grey stone -mansion, with a wide sort of park before it, spreading down to the -edge of the cornfield, and covered with short grass. On either side of -the house, stretching half way down the hill, with somewhat prim -regularity of outline, was seen a large, dark mass of wood, leaving -the open space of park lawn between, unencumbered by a single tree of -any kind. The only object that broke the calm, still regularity of the -scene was a group of fine deer, which trotted at an easy pace across -the park, as if seeking for some other spot, where the herbage was -richer, or the sheltering fern more abundant. - -The house itself was of a castellated form, and a part of it had -evidently been built at that period when each man was obliged to hold -his own with a strong hand, and the sword of justice was impotent to -protect those who could not find shelter within walls and battlements. -Various plans had been adopted to give modern comforts to the ancient -habitation; windows had superseded loop-holes, and gardens had been -laid out where the spears once bristled and the cannon roared. Morley -did not in the least recollect the mansion, for he had not seen it -since he was an infant; but, nevertheless, from the descriptions which -he had heard, he instantly recognised the house he was in search of; -and, finding his way to a gate, he entered the park, and was soon in -the court-yard of his own dwelling. - -Servants had gone down before him; everything had been prepared for -his reception; the place looked as gay and bright as it was possible -to make it; and the time had been, not long before, when Morley would -have walked well pleased through the long, wainscoted corridors and -quaint old rooms,--would have enjoyed that calm look of the past which -ancient houses have about them; and might have compared it to the -tranquil aspect of a good old man at the end of a happy life, and -wished that his own latter day might come with as little decay and as -much quiet cheerfulness. Now, however, he walked straight to the old -drawing-room, without looking either to the right or left, and cast -himself down in a chair, each new thing which the hopes of the past -had linked to happiness in the future, producing nothing but bitter -pain, now that the golden chain was broken by the hand of -disappointment. The first sight of the old dwelling had instantly -brought back the bitterness to his heart, and the entrance into his -home only made him recollect that that home was to be for ever -companionless. - -His old servant, Adam Gray, had followed him, and marked his haggard -eye and faded cheek with pain. He sought for no explanation, -however--he wanted none; for, with the instinct of old affection, he -had divined the grand cause of the sorrow he beheld, and cared little -for the minor particulars. It was wonderful, too, how accurately the -old man guessed the course which grief and disappointment would take -with his master's mind. - -"I am afraid, sir," he said, "that you have been up all night. Had you -not better lie down for an hour or two? Your room is quite ready, for -we expected you last night, and I waited up till two o'clock, thinking -you might come." - -"I should not sleep, Adam," replied Morley; "and it is as well to -remain awake where I am--where there are things to employ the eyes -upon--as to shut out everything but thought, which is not pleasant to -me just now, good Adam. Let me have some coffee, my good friend, and -afterwards I will walk round the place with you, for I have something -to give you in charge, Adam. You must see to it yourself, after I am -gone away." - -"Gone away, sir!" exclaimed the old man; "I hope you don't intend to -go very soon. There is a great deal to be done here, sir--a great deal -that would amuse and please you, I am sure." - -"It must be done by others," answered Morley, sadly; "I shall return -to Morley Court to-morrow morning. There I shall stay but a day or two -ere I set out for London. From London I shall most likely go to the -Continent; but I have not fixed upon any plan yet. Get me the coffee, -Adam." - -It is a sad sign when, in youth--the period of innumerable plans, when -everything is to be attempted, and nothing seems impossible--the -scheme of the future is left vague and undefined. The prospects, the -views, the purposes may change every hour, and afford no indication of -anything but youth's bright eagerness; but still each hour must have -its plan for the next, or you may well pronounce the heart to be -vacant, desolate, or broken. It is my firm belief, that the history of -a man's past life, as far, at least, as its happiness or unhappiness -is concerned, may almost always be told distinctly from the plans he -can form for the future. It is the burden of disappointment that -weighs down the butterfly wings of expectation that carry us insects -on from flower to flower. - -The old man well understood that such is the case; and he grieved more -at seeing his master without plans and purposes, than at any of the -other signs of listlessness and sorrow which his whole conduct -displayed. He brought him the coffee, then, in silence; he laid out -the breakfast table with care; he found a thousand little excuses for -lingering in the room; and he watched his master's countenance, with -that sort of anxious but humble attachment, which is rarely to be -found anywhere but in an old servant or a faithful dog. For, alas! -truth and honour, and true, deep love, are jewels more frequently to -be found in the plain oak coffer than the gilded casket. At length, he -ventured to say, in a low tone, as if it were more an involuntary -observation he was making for his own relief, than intended for the -ear of the young Baronet--"Well, I did not think Miss Juliet would -have done so!" - -Morley raised his finger sternly, with a knitted brow, but he only -said--"Leave me!" and the old man, seeing that a touch upon the wound -was agony, quitted the drawing-room, sorry for the words that he had -uttered. - -As soon as he was gone, Morley Ernstein rose from his seat, and, with -his hands clasped together, and his eyes cast down, strode up and down -for several minutes, in bitter meditations. Hitherto the feelings of -heart-broken disappointment--disappointment of the best and brightest -hopes of his existence--the crushing of the sweetest, the tenderest, -the most elevating sensations of his heart, had been unmingled with -any other passion. It had been alone deep sorrow--despair, if one -will--but now the words of the old servant threw in a new ingredient. - -I have not represented the character of Morley Ernstein as a perfect -one, for he was anything but perfect, and now--to use what may be -considered a strange expression--one of the most powerful weaknesses -of man's nature was called into action by finding that he was an -object of commiseration to others. Vanity, oh, reader!--vanity, which -lurks in some shape or in some disguise in every human breast, perhaps -without exception--vanity, which is the spring of more actions, good -as well as bad, noble as well as base, than have ever been catalogued -to any other author--vanity, which has made kings and conquerors, -prelates and statesmen, saints and hermits--vanity, which has led men -to the height of pomp, and the lowest acts of humiliation, was roused -in the breast of Morley Ernstein by the one sentence that old Adam -Gray had spoken, and took its course according to the peculiarities of -his character. He felt himself an object of compassion, and he loved -not to be so. There was a feeling of being lowered, degraded, in -knowing that his misery had been observed and pitied; and he muttered -to himself--"This must not be: I shall have my tale of disappointment -sent over all the world. I shall be called love-sick, broken-hearted; -I shall be laughed at by unfeeling puppies, commiserated by -sentimental girls, and scorned by the cold and calculating, who know -nothing of life but its material things. Though she has contrived to -make my existence desolate, and to chill the warm fountain of my -heart's blood into ice, yet I must not suffer myself to become an -object of contempt or neglect. I must move and act in this world as if -it still had matters of interest for me. I must taste of pleasure, -since I cannot taste of happiness; and I must have occupation, -amusement, gaiety, as I cannot have calm tranquillity and domestic -joy. I, too, will do as others do--make my face a mask for my heart, -teach my voice to become but as an instrument of music, to give forth -what sounds art may make me seek to produce, and shut up my spirit -with all the fetters of disappointment heavy upon it, as an unseen -captive within the prison of this earthly frame. Such shall be my -scheme of life; and, come what may, I will follow it with the stern -determination of one who can find for the future no obstacle in all -the things of a world, which is now become a place of emptiness and -vanity in his eyes, no guiding channels for his conduct in those -customs and usages which have lost their importance for ever. I am -afraid, however," he continued, "that I spoke somewhat harshly to that -poor old man. Heaven forbid that I should give him pain!--There is -nothing upon earth of sufficient value to justify us in making even a -worm writhe." - -Morley Ernstein sat down, drank some of the coffee, more to shew that -he had used the breakfast things set down before him than from -appetite, and then rang for his old servant. It was another, however, -who now appeared, and Morley had to send for Adam Gray, not indeed -with the intention of referring at all to the stern answer he had -given, or to anything which had passed, but merely to evince towards -him that kindness and confidence which he knew would be the best -atonement for any harshness. - -"Now, Adam," he said, in a tone not cheerful indeed, but less gloomy -than before, "shew me which is my dressing-room, and while I shave and -change my clothes, you shall give me some account of all the wonders -of Warmstone. Then you shall take a walk with me round the place, and -we will talk of the disposal of one or two of the cottages that are -vacant." - -The old man was well pleased; and, standing by his master's side, -while he dressed and refreshed himself after his long night's ride, -Adam Gray, with some degree of loquacity, which, though not -inseparable from age, is its very frequent companion, proceeded to -relate and comment upon a thousand little particulars which he had -remarked since his arrival at Warmstone three or four days before. He -believed firmly that he was driving from his master's mind some -painful remembrances, though, to say the truth, ere he had pronounced -a dozen sentences, Morley's mind was far away, and the words were -gathered by his ear, bearing but a small part of their meaning with -them, like over-ripe corn which drops the grain ere it be garnered. -Occasionally, indeed, he saw that the old man paused for an answer, -and to satisfy him he replied at random, sometimes successfully as far -as sense went, but sometimes with words totally inapplicable to what -had gone before, and then Adam Gray explained again, and Morley was -obliged to listen more attentively. - -At length his toilet was concluded, and, taking his hat and gloves, he -sauntered forth, followed by the old servant, half a step behind. It -was a pleasant, but somewhat cold day, for the time of year, and -strange were the sensations of the young gentleman as he strolled -forward over the short turf, gilded by the autumnal sunshine, with the -woods just beginning to grow brown upon their edges, resting calm in -the tranquil noontide, and an antique solitude of aspect spread over -the whole place. Guided through the tall oaks and beeches on the -right, Adam Gray led him to the old pleasure grounds of the castle, -where high walls of thick black yew, trimmed with the utmost neatness, -flanked broad gravel walks, and protected from the wind various formal -beds of flowers, which, though well kept, and not selected amiss, were -shewing a good deal the hand of autumn. Half way down the principal -walk was a small grassy mound with a sun-dial, on one side of which -was inscribed the name of some former proprietor of the castle, who -had erected it, and thus thought to save himself for a little from -oblivion, while on the other side was inscribed a quaint old rhyme, -shewing the vanity of all temporal things, as if intended as a curious -comment on the vain memento of the opposite face. - -A few yards beyond the time-teller appeared the first living thing -which Morley had seen since he issued forth from the house. It was an -old gardener, who seemed in shape to have imitated the sun-dial, with -the erection of which, it is probable, his birth was coeval. He was -habited in a longwaisted coat, with broad flaps and large pockets, and -his breeches, which scarcely covered his knees and mounted no farther -than his hips, displayed a portion of a coarse, but very white shirt -about his stomach, and were fastened with large silver buckles just -above the calves of his legs. Similar buckles of still vaster -dimensions appeared on his shoes, and the costume was completed by a -pigtail and a low-crowned broad-brimmed hat. He was hale and hearty, -though upwards of eighty-five, and his profession was marked by the -spade on which he leant, and which had been familiar with his hand for -more than two-thirds of a century. - -Reader, will you forgive me when I acknowledge that this antique -gardener has nothing to do with our history, but yet I could not -forbear giving you this little picture of a sort of being which has -passed away for ever. Morley advanced to the old man and spoke a few -words to him, the answers to which were as quaint as his attire; and -when his young master had passed on, the gardener continued to rest -upon his spade, and look after him with an expression of calm, -speculative thought, evidently regarding him merely as a new sort of -plant, and wondering, perhaps, what sort of flower or fruit he would -bear. - -From the garden, Morley and his old servant proceeded across the park -to the little village which lay upon the property at the distance of -about a mile from the house. Morley walked through it, spoke to the -different cottagers, enquired into their situation, gave some -directions regarding them, and then told Adam Gray to take him to the -two small houses which he had said were untenanted. The old man then -led him back upon the road towards Warmstone Castle, but turning, soon -after, up a broad well-kept path by the side of a stream, he conducted -his master into a little glen, at the end of which might be seen a -small water-mill. Some way further down, however, between the mouth of -the glen and the mill, were two pretty stone cottages joined together, -with a little sweep of the hill behind them, and a garden in the front -coming down to the path. - -"You seem to know this place well, Adam," said Morley, "though you -cannot have been much here." - -"Oh, bless you! yes, sir," replied the man. "In your father's time we -used to spend four or five months at Warmstone every year, and as it -was his particular wish that it should be well kept up, Mr. Hamilton -has sent me over once or twice a year since." - -Morley made no reply, but walked on with the melancholy feeling of the -passing away of all things more strong upon him than ever; and he -could not help thinking that the lingering of earthly affection, which -teaches us in the hour of death to care for even inanimate things, and -provide for their preservation after we ourselves have fallen into the -ruin of the tomb, is like the clinging love which the human heart will -sometimes feel towards a fellow-being, the thoughtful tenderness, the -longing aspiration for the happiness of another, which will continue -to exist throughout our being, long after the despair of ever uniting -our fate with hers, has trampled out the selfishness of passion. He -felt that such was the case with himself; and that, though from some -unexplained causes, Juliet Carr had left him hopeless and miserable, -with a heart dead to all the fond expectations of love, yet for her, -and for her happiness, he would always pray, would think of her when -he was careless of himself, and feel an interest in her when all the -rest of the world was nothing but an empty show. - -He stopped opposite the gate of the cottage garden, while the old man -went in and opened the doors and windows. Morley then shook off the -load of thought, and looked round the place, examining the different -rooms, and seeing that all was in a state of good repair. Although a -place destined to be the scene of busy life always looks somewhat -melancholy when vacant, there was an air of comfort about the cottage -which satisfied the young Baronet, and turning to Adam Gray, he -said--"You must stay here a day or two, Adam, after I have gone to -town. Have a sufficient quantity of furniture, of a suitable kind, -brought down here from the castle, and let the garden be put in -somewhat better order. Probably to-morrow, or the next day, you will -have an application about the cottage from some people whom I have -promised to let it to rent free--a respectable-looking old woman and -her daughter, a younger one, with a little boy, her child. The younger -woman--and, indeed, both--have been in a better situation. You will -therefore do everything to make them comfortable." - -The old man gazed in his master's face for a moment, without reply; -but then enquired--"May I ask what is the old lady's name, Sir Morley? -for a great many old ladies might come, you know." - -"That is not likely," replied Morley; "but I have almost forgotten her -name, my good Adam, though it is one, I believe, you ought to know, -for she lived near Morley Court, in my father's time. Oh, I remember -now!--her name is More, the widow of Serjeant More." - -The old man's face changed in a moment--"The wife of Serjeant More -come back again!" he exclaimed. "We all heard that she had died in -India. Ha! I shall like to have a chat with her, of old times. Every -one said she was a very good woman--too good a woman to do a wicked -thing--but yet people did suspect that she did one thing which was not -quite right--" - -"Well, my good Adam," said Morley, interrupting him, "the scandals of -the past have, doubtless, more interest for you than for me. You will -have plenty of time to hold any conversation you like with the old -lady, for I shall not want you in town till to-morrow week. In the -meantime, however, you must give directions for taking care of the -horses, and see that everything be put in good order, both at Morley -Court and here, for I am going to the Continent, good Adam, and shall -most likely be absent many months." - -"I hope you are not going without me, sir," exclaimed the old man. "I -would fain go with you, if you please; for if you leave me behind, I -shall take a sad fancy that I shall never see you again." - -"It shall be as you like, Adam," replied Morley. "It is the custom, my -good old friend, on these occasions, to take with one a personage, -who, according to the law of fashion, must not be one's own -countryman, nor have one single tie to the master whom he serves. His -business is, to pay postmasters and postilions more than they ought to -have, to aid the landlords of inns, and the officers of Custom-houses, -the cicerone and the waiter in plundering his employer to the best of -his abilities, to run away from him in case of danger, and to -appropriate such parts of his goods and chattels, in case of sickness -or death, as may be most easily secreted. This personage is called a -courier; and as I go, you know, in the quality of an English gentleman -of fashion, such a piece of roguery is, of course, a necessary -appendage to my travelling carriage. You may go with me too, however, -if you like; but there is one bargain which I must make with you--no -complaints or representations in regard to the courier! You must even -let him cheat me according to the best esteemed mode, till I find him -out myself in something too gross, and then--" - -"What will you do then, sir?" demanded Adam Gray, in a quiet tone. - -"Throw him out of the window," answered Morley. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - - -We must pass over the space of two days, and then return to the -cottage, of which we have spoken in the last chapter, having now to -dwell for some time upon the fate and history of persons in a very -different station of life, and of a very different character from Sir -Morley Ernstein. Yet let not the reader think that we thus go from -scene to scene, and from person to person--leaving those for whom we -have just created an interest, almost as soon as that interest is -excited, and turning to others whom the reader cares little -about--from any wantonness of imagination, or carelessness of plan. On -the contrary, it is done deliberately and designedly; not only because -it is in the ordinary course of nature, and because the fates of the -great and the small, the good and the bad, the wise and the foolish, -are linked together in such a manner throughout the whole scheme of -human life, that they all affect each other in the most intimate -manner, but also because it is absolutely necessary to pursue such a -course, in order that the reader may, in the least degree, comprehend -the story of this book. Let him be forewarned, then, that if he misses -one chapter, one page, or perhaps one sentence, he may very probably -lose the key to the whole, and understand no more at the end than he -did at the beginning; for the destiny of each person herein spoken of, -was so twined and intertwisted with that of the others, by the decree -of fate, that the life, property, and happiness of the greatest and -the best amongst them, was often entirely dependent upon the actions -of the least and the worst, and the ultimate result of all was brought -about by circumstances that seemed the most trivial. - -To the cottage, then, we must turn, on the evening of the second day -after that on which Sir Morley Ernstein had visited it; premising, -that the young Baronet had set off for London on the day after we last -saw him. The little tenement had undergone a considerable change, and -though it may seem strange to attribute anything like poetry to tables -and chairs, yet I must say there was the poetry of comfort about -it--ay, dear reader, there is a poetry in anything which calls up -before the eye of imagination all the sweet relationships of domestic -life; the household joys, the bright hearth's happy circle, parental -fondness, the husband's protecting care, the wife's devoted love. -There is a poetry in it all, the blandest, the most soothing to the -human heart; for it is the poetry of the purest happiness that man is -permitted to know on earth. That sort of poetry had been produced in -the cottage I have spoken of, by the change from the vacant rooms, and -dull uncovered walls, to the cheerful, furnished cottage-kitchen, with -the bright fire blazing on the hearth, the long row of shelves loaded -with various articles for daily use, all clean and shining; the -polished oaken table in the midst, the stools and seats around, the -large chair by the fire, and a thousand little objects, not of -absolute necessity, perhaps, but which all more or less contribute to -comfort; for good old Adam Gray had taken an interest in the orders -his masters gave him, and had forgotten nothing--no, not even a small -crib for the child. - -At the moment that we speak of, the elder woman, whom the little boy -himself has introduced to us by the name of Granny, was seated in the -arm-chair by the fire, and looking round with a feeling of relief and -satisfaction, though her face was somewhat worn with the anxiety and -watching which she had undergone during the last week, and with being -hunted, as she expressed it, like a wild beast, over the moors. The -boy, her grandson, was on the floor near her feet, rolling to and fro -a large round mass of wood, which was used to keep the cottage-door -open in fine weather; while his mother was gazing down upon him with a -look of sorrowful affection; and in her eyes might be read deep and -sad comments upon, the fate of her child, upon human love, and human -errors. Oh! could one have seen into her heart at that moment, how -touching--how strangely touching--would have been the terrible -blending of intense affection, and strong anxiety, and profound -sorrow, which would have been found there as she gazed upon her boy! - -The two women had been in the house for several hours, but had been -busily engaged in arranging all things in their future abode, so that -this was the first moment that leisure had been found for calm -contemplation. Neither mother nor daughter spoke for some time, and -nothing was heard but the ticking of the clock behind the door, and -the rolling to and fro of the wooden ball by the little boy. Suddenly, -however, there was a footfall in the garden, and the younger woman -started and listened, but the moment after she shook her head, -saying--"It is not he." - -The well-known music of the step we love, the sweetest of all sounds -to those who have been long absent from the arms of affection, was not -there. It was the slow and heavy tread of an old man, and in another -minute, after tapping at the door, good Adam Gray entered the cottage -and approached the fire. He had not thought fit to be present when the -little party took possession of their new dwelling; but he now came, -both to see that his young master's orders had been executed, and to -satisfy, in some degree, his own curiosity upon more than one point. - -The younger woman had said--"Come in!" and her mother had turned round -to see who it was that entered, but the eye of the latter rested upon -the form of the old butler without the slightest sign of recognition. -He gazed upon her in return as he advanced; but whether it was that -his memory was better, or that she was less changed by time than he -was, it was very evident, from the expression of his countenance, that -he saw in her an old acquaintance. - -"Good evening," he said--"good evening. I hope you find everything -comfortable here. It was my young master's strict order that I should -do everything to make you so." - -"I thank you, sir," replied the younger woman, with a tone and manner -that would not have disgraced any society, "we are deeply indebted to -Sir Morley Ernstein, and have found everything far more comfortable -than we could even hope, certainly far more than we had any right to -expect." - -"I am glad to hear it--I am glad to hear it," said good Adam Gray. "But -by your leave, ma'am, I will take a chair. I have come here as an old -friend, Mrs. More; do you not recollect me? Do you not recollect Adam -Gray?" - -The old woman looked in his face with some surprise--"And are you Mr. -Gray, the butler?" she asked. "Why, your hair used to be as black as -jet, and you seemed to me taller by a couple of inches." - -"Ay," answered old Adam, "'tis very true, good dame--'tis very true -indeed; but time, you know, will whiten the hair and bow the body, and -I do not stand near so tall as I once did. Good lack! when I look in -the looking-glass, I can scarcely recollect what I was like twenty -years ago. You are much changed, too, Dame More, though not so much as -I am, I think. You were a buxom woman in those days, and we were all -sorry when you left the village, though some said it was for your own -good; but others shook the head, you know, Dame More." - -"Well they might," said the old woman, in a low, sad tone, fixing her -eyes upon the fire--"well they might, indeed!" - -Adam Gray and his old acquaintance sat silent for several minutes, -evidently engaged in meditations over the past; and the younger woman; -feeling, perhaps, that their thoughts were busy about things which -were not familiar to her own mind, laid hold of the arm of her little -boy, who was staring inquisitively in the face of the stranger, -saying--"Come, Dick, it is time for you to go to bed, boy, and rest -your young limbs." - -The child went away willingly enough, and the old man and woman were -left alone. - -"Well, Mrs. More," said Adam Gray, "I am glad that we have met once -again in life, though I suppose you will be as silent about all the -stories of those days as you were when last I saw you." - -"I don't know that," answered the old woman, musing; "times have -changed, Mr. Gray, and I may not care to talk about things now that I -did not choose to talk about then. Sir Morley Ernstein has been kind -to me, too--" - -"And I am sure so was his father," said the butler. - -"Yes," replied she, "so he was; but, as I have said, times have -changed, and those who were then befriending me and mine, may now be -persecuting us. However, I shall say nothing till I see what comes of -it." - -"I should like very much, however, to hear all that story," rejoined -Adam Gray, "and I am sure I would not say a word to any one. It is -only for my own satisfaction I speak, and to know if my good master -was right or wrong in what he said." - -The old woman gazed for an instant down upon the ground, then turned -her eyes upon the old man with a very strange expression, saying--"He -was wrong, M. Gray; and I told him what was true. Yet, odd as it may -seem, he was right too, and I deceived him. I will tell you what, you -where always a good-hearted man, and a sensible one, and some day or -another I'll tell you the whole story, but it sha'n't be now." - -"It must be every soon, then," said Adam Gray, "for I am going to -London in two days, and to the Continent immediately after." - -"That will do!" cried the old woman--"that will do quite well." - -"Do you mean when I come back again?" demanded Adam Gray. "Who can -tell, good dame, when that may be? Who can tell whether it ever will -be?" - -"I don't mean that," said the old woman, somewhat peevishly, "but I -mean that you are not likely to tell it again till I am dead and -buried, and then you may tell it if you like; so you shall hear all -before you go, if you will promise to keep it a secret, as I have -done, till I be gone to join my husband and my son." - -"Why, where are they?" Asked Adam Gray. "I thought you were a widow, -Dame More. Did you leave your husband and your son in India?" - -"Yes," replied the old woman, fixing her eyes upon the fire--"I left -them in the grave." - -The good old servant seemed somewhat shocked that he had called up -such painful memories, and after remaining silent for a short time, -Dame More, as he called her, went on--"There is many a thing, Mr. -Gray," she said, "that I may weep for, and many a thing that I wish -had gone otherwise; but there is only one thing that I repent, and -that is what we are now talking about. If you will come to me -to-morrow, however, I will tell you all about it, for I do wish some -one person to know the thing besides myself. Your master is too young, -or I would have told him; and Harry, my girl's husband, is too wild -and not to be trusted; and if I told Jane herself, she would never -keep it from her husband; so I will tell you, because I believe you -have always been an honest man--I should like to know that Harry gets -safe away first, however, for if that man persecutes him, I will stop -him, or have vengeance." - -"Vengeance!" observed the old man--"vengeance, my good dame, is like a -sword without a hilt, sure to cut the hands of those that use it." - -"It may be so, Mr. Gray," replied the old woman--"it may be so, -indeed, but I must save him, for my poor girl's sake." - -"I do not exactly understand what you mean," said Adam Gray. But the -old woman shook her head, replying, "You had better not. However, I -will tell you at all events, for it is fit that some one should know. -Life is uncertain at the best, and at my years it's but like the -dying flame of a candle, flickering up and down before it goes out -for ever.--Come, you shall hear the story now," she continued; "but -first let me go and tell the girl not to come down. Poor Jane! she -has enough sad secrets of her own without having to bear mine too." - -The old woman rose from her chair, supporting herself by the arm, for -she seemed somewhat stiff, and was turning towards the door which led -to the staircase, when her daughter's step was heard descending -quickly, and Jane Martin entered with an eager look, saying--"He is -there--he is there! I heard his step in the garden. I am sure he is -there!" and as she spoke, she turned her eyes with an apprehensive -glance from the countenance of her mother to that of Adam Gray. - -"You may trust him--you may trust him!" cried the old woman. "Open the -door, Jane, and see. Do not be afraid, girl--you may trust him, I -say." - -The younger woman approached the door with a quiet and noiseless step, -and lifting the latch, looked out. A quick and eager respiration was -all that was heard, but the moment she had opened the door, she darted -out, and returned the instant after, with her fair slight form clasped -round by the powerful arm of her husband. - -The eyes of Harry Martin rested at once upon Adam Gray, as he sat by -the fire, but it was with no expression of apprehension, and he -answered some words which his wife whispered rapidly to him, by -saying--"I understand--I understand, Jane." - -Adam Gray, however, saw at once that there was something more in the -situation of the parties than had been communicated to him by his -master; and, being a prudent and sagacious man, though not without his -share of curiosity, he rose after a few brief words had passed between -him and the rest, and took his leave, promising to return on the -following day, and have a further chat with Mrs. More. - -The night was somewhat dark as the old butler issued forth, and, -accustomed as his eyes had lately been to the light within the -cottage, he could scarcely see his way along the narrow gravel -foot-path which led from the door to the end of the little garden. -When he reached the low gate, however, a sudden light, proceeding from -some object which he could not distinguish, came in his face and -nearly blinded him, but the moment after, it ceased, and he caught the -faint outline of a man standing close by the palings. - -The appearance of this personage, who seemed to have a dark lantern -with him, was not at all satisfactory to good Adam Gray, but judging -that civility would be the best policy, he merely said, "Good night," -and passed through the gate. His friend with a lantern made no reply, -and Adam hurried down the little path which led towards the mansion -house, not by any means sure that certain notes, together with sundry -round pieces of gold and silver, which at that moment tenanted his -breeches pocket, would be permitted to remain in occupation till he -reached Warmstone Castle. - -On arriving at the high road, however, he saw another man advancing -rapidly towards him, but bearing in no degree the aspect of a person -of that neighbourhood. The stranger stopped exactly opposite to him, -but seemed more inclined to examine than to annoy him, and suffered -him to pass on, replying, "Good night," to Adam's salutation, in a -civil tone, but without any Northumbrian accent. The sight of a -post-chaise, standing in the road at some distance, put an end to the -good old man's apprehensions, though it did not clear up the mystery; -but wisely judging that the affair was no business of his, he made the -best of his way back to the castle, without taking any farther notice, -or enquiring into things that did not concern him. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - - -It was nearly twelve o'clock at night, and Harry Martin stood with his -wife, gazing down upon their sleeping child. Curious as are all the -contrasts which life presents, there are few more extraordinary, more -full of deep and strange interest, than the contrast between the vices -and strong passions of unbridled manhood, and the calm reproachful -innocence of infancy. Oh! what a mirror it holds up to shew man, -hardened by sin, and strife, and selfishness, what he once was, what -he might still have been; and yet, how seldom do we take the reproof -to our hearts, how rarely do we apply to ourselves the comment which -is secretly made within us! The bold, reckless man who stood there and -gazed, felt a deep strain of solemn sensations, mingling with the -feelings of paternal love, which the sight of his child called forth. -But he asked himself not why or how it was that he experienced a -sorrowful emotion totally distinct from the idea of parting from the -beloved, as he gazed down upon the sleeping boy--an emotion which, if -he had investigated all the causes, he would have found to be the -voice of memory reproaching him for the innocence he had cast away. - -"Well, Jane," he said, at length, "it is no use lingering--I must go. -It would have been wiser, perhaps, not to come, but I could not go -without seeing you again, my dear girl. Six hours now will bring me to -the coast, and then the lugger the man talked of will soon take me to -Liverpool, and the 'Mary Anne' sails on Saturday morning; so I shall -soon be on my way to another far country, and you must follow as soon -as may be--Hark! I thought your mother was gone to bed!" - -"It is only the kitchen window," said his wife; "it makes that noise -when the wind shakes it." - -"You are sure that you have money enough for all that you want?" -continued her husband. - -"Quite sure," she answered; "more than enough, Harry. You know I have -not been accustomed to such extravagance as you have taught me. I can -do upon very little, and the passage-money I will put by and keep, -without--" - -"Hark!" he exclaimed, grasping her arm, and looking with a wild and -eager gaze towards the door. "There is certainly some one below." - -Jane turned as pale as death, for she distinctly heard a step, but she -lost not her courage--her husband's life was at stake, and the -resolute spirit of deep love rose up within her. - -"Out through that room behind," she said; "the window is not high; -then up the side of the hill, there are woods and moors. I will go -down and stop them. Away, Harry, away!" and printing one kiss upon his -cheek, she darted towards the staircase, and ran down, exclaiming, in -a tone of alarm that needed no affectation to assume--"Who is -there?--There is surely some one in the house! Mother, mother!" she -was heard to exclaim aloud; "here are strange men in the house! Who -are you?--what do you want here?" - -"It's no use talking, ma'am," said a voice the moment after, -proceeding from a stout, thickset personage, who stood in the middle -of the kitchen floor, while another man was thrusting himself through -the lattice window. "We want just to say a word or two to Mr. Martin, -and we must say it, too. He knows that the game's up well enough, so -it's no use dodging about in this way." - -The wife, however, continued to stand in the doorway that led to the -stairs, calling out aloud, "Mother! mother!" - -Even as he spoke, there were the sounds of a window thrown open above, -a leap, and steps running over the greensward; and Jane, giving a wild -scream, fell forward upon the floor. - -The officer, for such the person was whom she found in the occupation -of the kitchen below, sprang over her, and rushed up stairs; old Mrs. -More came down in her night-gear, and raised her daughter fainting -from the floor; and the other officer, who had been scrambling in by -the window, made his exit by the door, and ran round to the back of -the house. Numerous cries, shouts, and directions, were then heard, -vociferated by the man above, who at length leaped out of the window -himself, and seemingly took his way over the hill. Comparative silence -succeeded, though voices, shouting to each other, were still heard -faintly, and Jane was raising her head in her mother's arms, and -enquiring--"Is he safe?" when the distant report of a pistol came upon -the wind, then some fresh calling; and then all was silent. Jane and -the old woman listened with eager and beating hearts, but not a sound -more reached them to give them any satisfaction. At length, the child -in the room above, disturbed in its sleep by all that had taken place, -began to cry aloud, and the half-distracted mother ran up to soothe -it. - -Still no further sound broke upon the anxious ear from the hill side, -and hour after hour passed by without tale or tidings. Jane lay down -upon her bed towards the morning, and wept with fear and agitation, -but she slept not. At length the grey dawn appeared, and she rose to -go forth and see if she could gather anything to calm her anxiety, -from the appearance of the footsteps on the hill side. At the door, -however, she was met by one of the men whom she had seen the night -before. He had a dogged, sullen look, which she thought might proceed -from disappointment, and that itself was a relief to her; but when he -said, in a civil tone--"Good morning, ma'am, I have come to search the -house," the poor girl could have embraced him, for she misconstrued -his words, and imagined that he was still in pursuit of her husband. - -"You may search as much as you please," she said, with a lightened -heart; "you will find nobody here." - -"As to nobody," replied the officer, "I suppose you are right, ma'am; -but it's not body, but thing I'm looking for. We've got his body safe -enough." - -"What do you mean?" exclaimed Jane, nearly sinking to the earth, while -a new terror took possession of her heart, "His body!--you have not -killed him?" - -"Oh, no, no!" cried the officer; "he's safe and hearty, ma'am, don't -be afraid. I was only speaking as the lawyers do. We caught him in the -wood over the hill there, and we shall soon have his body into court, -for the assizes are just coming on, you know, and he's gone over to -Doncaster in a shay, which we had all ready for him, quite like a -gentleman, I can assure you. These foolish country constables would -never have caught him. They can deal with a stray thief, or a -horse-stealer, or any of your petty-larceny rogues, as the gentleman -says in the play; but they don't know how to manage a regular -professional man at all. So it is lucky for Mr. Martin, too, that they -had us down from London, for he'll be treated quite politely, you may -be sure. Howsoever, I must just go in and search the house, ma'am, for -some of the things may be here, you know." - -This long oration had fallen upon the ears of Jane like her husband's -knell of death, and retreating into the cottage kitchen, she sank down -on a chair, letting the man proceed with his search as he would. That -search disturbed, as a natural consequence, the mother of the -unfortunate wife; and while the poor girl sat by herself, with her -head drooping and her hands clasped on her knee, the image of -disconsolate bereavement, she heard Dame More's voice in eager -conversation with the officer, and at length distinguished the words -"I will prove him innocent. Do not you be so confident, for you shall -hear another story at the trial." - -"What, you will prove an alibi, my good woman?" said the officer, in a -sneering tone; "but that's an old go--it wont do this time. Juries are -getting accustomed to alibis; they don't answer now;--or, mayhap, you -committed the burglary yourself, and, if so, you had better come along -with me to Doncaster." - -"I did not commit it myself," replied the old woman, in a stern -tone--"I did not commit it myself, nor can you prove that he committed -it." - -"Come, come," said the officer--"this is all gammon. What's in this -box, old lady? that's what we want to see at present." - -"Search, and you will see," answered Mrs. More. "We have nothing to -conceal from you here!" - -"That's coming it strong, howsoever," replied the man; and, leaving -him to pursue his search as he pleased, the old lady descended to -comfort her daughter. - -"Don't be afraid, Jane," she said--"don't be afraid; they shall do -nothing to him. It were worth as much as that old miser's life, to -hurt a hair of is head. Don't be afraid, Jane, but put on your bonnet, -my girl, run up to the castle, and tell the old man Gray to come down -and speak to me. I might die, or some accident might happen, so I had -better see him before I set out." - -With trembling hands--but little reassured by what her mother said, -and, unfortunately, but too certain of her husband's guilt--the poor -girl put on her bonnet, and hastened, as fast as her limbs would carry -her, up to Warmstone Castle. Before she returned again with Adam Gray, -after about half-an-hour's absence, the officer had completed his -search, and had left the house, swearing, with an oath, that it was -very strange he had been able to discover nothing bearing in the least -degree upon the robbery which had been committed. Jane found her -mother putting on the boy's clothes, and, taking him out of the old -lady's hands, she left her to speak with Adam Gray alone. On coming -down again, both the child and herself were completely dressed, as if -to go upon a journey; and the eagerness of her look amounted almost to -wildness, as, in answer to her mother's question of where she was -going, she replied--"You know I must get to Doncaster as fast as I -can, that I may be with him. Think of his being in prison, mother, and -alone!" - -"Nay, nay, Jane," replied her mother--"stay a bit, my girl--they would -not let you be with him even if you were there; but this good -gentleman, Mr. Gray, says he will take us all over in the chaise, with -which he is going to drive back to Morley Court to-morrow. It will be -a sad thing for me to see all those places again; but never mind, I -will go." - -"I cannot stay till to-morrow," cried the younger woman. "I would -rather walk, mother--indeed I would. My heart will break if I do not -go to him directly;" and she burst into tears. - -Adam Gray, in the meanwhile, had stood with his eyes fixed upon the -floor, musing deeply, as if some subject of extraordinary interest -occupied him altogether. It very often happens, however, that the mere -corporeal senses, like servants afraid of disturbing their master when -he is busy, receive and retain impressions, which they do not -communicate to the intellectual soul, till after she has fully -discussed and dismissed some particular subject with which she is -occupied, or till the urgency of external applications compel them to -break in upon her meditations. It was so in the present instance; the -ear of Adam Gray had heard all that had passed, but his mind was so -fully engaged with the conversation which had taken place between him -and Mrs. More, that he had not given any attention to what was -passing, till the tears of the young woman roused him from his -reverie, and then the ear conveyed to his mind all that it had -collected. - -"There is no use," he said, addressing Jane, "of your trying to go on -foot. You do not know what a distance it is, and you will be there -twice as soon by going with me. Besides, if it comes to that, and you -are so very anxious, I could set out to-day, about three o'clock. We -shall get to Greta Bridge by ten, and then there will be the coach -to-morrow, which will land you at Doncaster in the evening. If you -were to set off on foot this minute, it would take you four days, or -more, do what you would." - -"Oh, the shortest--the shortest!" cried Jane. "But will they not let -me be with him, mother? Did you say they will not let me be with him?" - -"No, indeed, my dear child," replied her mother, "that will they not; -but he shall soon be with you. Be comforted, Jane--be comforted." - -The poor girl, however, could receive no comfort; and, to say the -truth, she trusted not to her mother's promises, for she believed them -to be solely intended to soothe and tranquilize her. Her whole -thoughts, however, were bent upon setting off as soon as possible, and -she wandered about without occupation, till at length, about half-past -two, for the good old man was earlier than his hour, a boy ran up the -little glen from the high road, to say that Mr. Gray was waiting, and -to carry down anything that was to go. - -Never did journey seem so long as the drive from Warmstone to Greta -Bridge, to poor Jane; and to say sooth, the horse, though strong and -well fitted for such a journey, was not the swiftest that was ever put -in harness, nor was M. Gray the most dashing of charioteers. At -length, however, they reached the borders of Yorkshire, and put up at -the little inn at Greta, where Adam Gray's well-known face procured -them instantly a warm reception from the shrewd Yorkshire landlord. - -The good butler took care that the two women under his charge should -be well treated in all respects; but Jane and her boy retired to rest -almost immediately, leaving old Dame More once more alone with her -ancient acquaintance. They remained together, in earnest conversation, -for two or three hours, and Mr. Gray, in the course of the evening, -called for pen, and ink, and paper, so that it was evident to the -landlord some business of importance was being transacted between his -two guests. - -On the following morning the tax cart was sent back to Northumberland, -and, proceeding in the coach, which at that day was not altogether so -rapid a conveyance as at present, the whole party were, ere long, set -down at Doncaster, where the old servant of sir Morley Ernstein passed -the night, for the kindly purpose of putting his two companions into -what he called the way of doing for themselves at Doncaster. He was up -early on the following morning, and was enjoying the sunshine for five -minutes before breakfast at the door of the inn, when the landlord -himself sauntered out, with a--"Good morning, Mr. Gray! So sir Morley -is gone to London, I hear; an odd time of the year to go to London, -too!" - -"He has some business there," replied Adam Gray, laconically. "Pray -what is doing in Doncaster, Mr. Beilby?" - -"Oh, nothing much to talk of," answered the landlord. "Yesterday there -was a great piece of work, for they brought in the man who robbed Mr. -Carr's house at Yelverly, not long ago. They have been looking after -him for the last fortnight, or more, but he always managed to give -them the slip till the other day, when they caught him in -Northumberland, up somewhere in your parts, I believe; and a -prodigious number of people there were to see him.--A fine-looking -fellow he is, too, and set them all at defiance. He would not say a -word before the magistrates; and, indeed, as Mr. Carr was too ill to -attend, little Jeremy Sharpset, the lawyer, who appeared for the -prisoner, insisted that they should discharge him, or, at the worst, -remand him." - -"And did they remand him?" exclaimed Adam Gray. - -"Oh! not they," replied Mr. Beilby; "they would not hear any nonsense, -but committed him to York Castle, at once." - -Adam Gray heard the tidings in silence, and turned into the inn to -communicate the news he had obtained to those who were more interested -in the matter than himself. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - - -We must now endeavour to give the picture of a woman's mind under deep -affliction, as a contrast to that which we have drawn of a man -suffering from similar sorrow. Juliet Carr sat sad and lonely in her -own room at Yelverly, meditating over lost happiness and bitter -disappointment. Her father's health was better--that is to say, he was -stronger, able to rise, and go about in the immediate neighbourhood, -though the surgeon shook his head, warned him that no great exertions -must be made, and gave Juliet herself to understand that Mr. Carr was -still in a very precarious state. It was a great relief to her, -however, to see his health even so far improved, for it removed the -necessity of making that anxious struggle to do her duty towards him, -by tending him in sickness, which she never failed in, notwithstanding -his unwillingness to receive her attention, or be indebted to her -care. - -She sat, then, lonely in her chamber, thinking over her fate, and it -must be acknowledged that sad indeed were all her feelings, and deep -was the depression that rested on her mind. But very, very different -was her endurance of the sorrow from that of Morley Ernstein. She was -sensible that her happiness was gone for ever, her brightest hopes -disappointed, the treasured affections of her heart, the first deep, -earnest love of her young spirit cast away upon the ocean of Time--one -of all the manifold things which in the course of the world are -wrecked and perish in that engulfing sea. She felt her fate in all its -bitterness, but she writhed not under the pang; she knew that it is -woman's lot to endure, and she prepared her mind for a life of -endurance. She wept often, it is true, but she prayed often, too. She -prayed not only for herself, but for him whose peace was shipwrecked -with her own--she prayed that God might give him happiness, -consolation, relief--that the grief which had befallen him might not -drive his impetuous nature to seek for amusement or occupation in -paths of danger or of wrong--nay more, that he might find others to -cheer and to support him--that his fate might be brighter than her -own--that he might not remember, nor feel, nor love as long as she -must do. - -For her own part her mind was made up; the day-dream of life was over -to her; she asked nothing, she expected nothing from the future. All -the aspirations of the young heart were at an end, and though she -might expect some pleasures of a certain kind--in the doing good to -others, the wiping away some tears, the relief of sorrows, the -comforting and the consoling of the poor and the distressed--she -dreamt of nothing more. She was well contented, indeed, to bound her -hopes to the being an instrument in the hands of God to benefit her -fellow-creatures; and if imagination did present a vision to her mind -of anything like real joy for herself, if her heart did lift a prayer -to Heaven for anything like individual gratification, it embraced but -one bright object, it implied but one earnest petition that the time -might sooner or later come when she should be of some use to him she -loved--that she might have some opportunity of showing him the -undying, the unchanging affection which existed in her heart. Oh! with -what delight she sometimes dreamed of the possibility of following his -footsteps unseen through the world, of hovering round him like a -protecting spirit, warding off from him dangers and difficulties, -shielding him from malice, enmity, and strife, guarding him against -others--perhaps against himself! Such, for a moment, would sometimes -be the waking vision of Juliet Carr; but then she would endeavour to -shut it out.--It seemed too bright, too happy, for her to believe that -anything so joyful could yet be in store for her. - -These, then, reader, were the feelings of the woman's heart under the -same affliction which had produced very different sensations in Morley -Ernstein. He, it is true, longed for the happiness of Juliet Carr, -even independent of himself; his voice would ever have been ready to -defend her, his arm to protect; he would have gone to strife, and to -certain death to procure her even a moment's happiness; but with his -endurance of his own grief was mingled a bitterness and a repining -which made him writhe and struggle under it. The character of man, -born for effort and exertion, destined and taught to resist and to -strive, rendered it scarcely possible for him to bow with resignation -like hers to the stroke that separated them; there was anger mingled -with the tears that he shed, and wrath was in his heart as well as -sorrow. - -Morley, however, had the world to go to for relief and for occupation. -Juliet, in this respect, was far more unfortunate than he was, for she -had nothing to take off the first edge of her sorrow; there was no -variety in her existence, there was no one object to turn her thoughts -from herself. Her father--though the sort of habitual respect with -which he was accustomed to treat her, prevented him from breaking -forth even into an angry word, nevertheless regarded her, when they -met, with a stern and an enquiring eye; and the continual presence of -the youth, William Barham, drove her often to seek the refuge of her -own chamber, in order to avoid society which she did not like, and -which every day was becoming more and more unpleasant to her. - -From motives, and with views which Juliet could in no degree divine, -Mr. Carr used to indulge the weak, idle, selfish youth whom he had -taken into the house, in every sort of whim and fancy. He, who was -usually so parsimonious, refused the young man nothing that he -desired, and an evident taste for drinking soon manifested itself in -his unpromising protégé. Mr. Carr caused him to be supplied with wine, -or spirits, or whatever he might think necessary, taking a note, -indeed, of every farthing of expense, but still with a degree of -liberality which astonished all who witnessed his proceedings. It may -be easily supposed, that the sort of unlimited command which the youth -had over everything in the house, was not only unpleasant to Juliet -personally, but also was painful for her to witness, from the evil -effects it was evidently producing upon the brother of Helen Barham. - -In one of her letters to Helen, who still remained with Lady Malcolm, -Juliet, after much hesitation, mentioned the facts and her -apprehensions; and about four days afterwards, while her father and -William Barham were both out, she suddenly heard the rolling of -wheels, and the moment after her maid ran in to tell her that Miss -Barham had just arrived from London. - -Juliet went down in haste, and the meeting between Helen Barham -and herself was like that of two sisters. In regard to human -affections--as indeed in regard to almost everything else--time is a -mere relative term; for there are circumstances and situations which -bind heart to heart in a few hours by ties more strong than can be -woven by the intimacy of a lifetime. It is alone upon the -deceitfulness of the world that is grounded the sad necessity of -choosing slowly and thoughtfully the friends of the heart; but there -are cases where the inmost secrets of the bosom are so clearly -displayed that caution may be well done away; and generally it is in -such cases that those circumstances exist which draw us irresistibly -towards another, and teach us at once to love and to esteem. - -So had it been with Helen Barham and Juliet Carr. In a few days--nay, -in a few hours, they had known each other well, and loved each other -dearly; and if in the character of Helen Barham there were points -which Juliet grieved for, yet they were points which excited -tenderness and pity rather than condemnation, and proceeded from -errors in education, never from defects of the heart. When they had -last met there had existed a difference in their state of mind, which -was the only impediment to the deepest attachment. It was, that Juliet -Carr was then perfectly happy, and happiness, which is at best a -selfish thing, prevented her from feeling altogether as she might have -done that full sympathy for Helen, which none but those who have -themselves known deep grief can experience towards those who grieve. -Let me not be misunderstood, however--Juliet had sympathized with her -fair companion deeply, and had loved her warmly, and the only -abatement was, that Juliet was herself completely happy. Now, however, -happiness had passed away from her heart, and as she held Helen in her -arms for a moment, at their first meeting, she felt that she had -hardly loved her half enough. - -Luckily for themselves, they were suffered to be alone for several -hours, for they had much to explain to each other which was difficult -to tell--many subjects to speak upon, in regard to which even woman -with woman hesitates. And Juliet had dreamt a dream, so mingled of -sweet and noble purposes, of painful expectations, of devotion, of -resignation, and of tenderness, that it was hard for her even to -approach the subject--hard even to think of it, without the tears -rising in her eyes, and her heart throbbing as if it would beat -through her bosom. She gazed on Helen Barham, while they sat and -talked together; she looked at her bright and sparkling beauty, almost -as if she had been a lover; she read the deep, strong affections of -those bright heart-full eyes, she fathomed in her own mind the well of -intense feelings that existed in that soft bosom, and in her humility -she asked herself--"What am I, that he should love me rather than -her?" - -Juliet went on with her enquiries, and demanded of herself, "Is it not -possible--is it not even probable, that, knowing we can never be -united, with his attachment to me broken by the cold hand of despair, -his affections may turn to one who so well deserves them, and Helen -Barham, happy in his love, may, in the end, make him happy likewise?" -Not only was it likely, she thought, but scarcely to be doubted. It -was impossible that he could see much of one so beautiful, so -talented, so engaging, without learning to love her, if love for -another could once be extinguished in his heart. - -A pause had taken place while she thus thought, and Juliet saw her -fair companion's eyes rest upon the green expanse before the house, -while an expression of deep melancholy stole over her countenance. -Juliet read that look, and read it rightly; and though she felt -somewhat timid, in regard to touching upon the subject at all, and -sought not to raise any expectations, especially when she could not be -sure that they might not be disappointed, yet she resolved, with the -generous confidence of a pure and high mind, to let Helen know the -exact position in which she herself stood towards Morley Ernstein. "I -am sure," she said to herself, "that Helen will not rejoice in my -disappointment. But, nevertheless, the knowledge that he whom she -loves is not actually about to be united to another, may make a -difference in her own fate and conduct." - -Thus thinking, she fixed her eyes for a moment upon Helen Barham -again, saying--"Dear Helen, you look somewhat pale and sad." - -The blood rushed up into Helen Barham's cheek, from the well of -consciousness in her heart. But Juliet went on, anxious to prevent her -making any reply--"I am afraid, dear Helen," she continued, "that you -are not very happy, though there never yet was one who more deserved -happiness, I am sure. I can now sympathize with you, dear Helen, more -deeply than I ever could do before, for I am not happy, either." - -Helen started, and gazed eagerly in her face--"What is it you mean?" -she cried. "You unhappy, Juliet!--you, whose days I thought were to be -all sunshine, blessed and blessing from the beginning of life to the -close!--you, whose fate I believed was destined to show to man that it -is possible to be happy, even on this earth!--you, who I fancied were -to be for ever a being of brightness, and goodness, and joy!--you to -be unhappy! Then, indeed, is this world a place of trial to every one; -and, as old Comines says--'Right loyally has God kept his word with -man, that in sorrow shall every one eat of the fruit of the ground, -all the days of his life!' Oh, Juliet! this is very sad to me, for it -takes away that belief in the mere existence of such a thing as -happiness, which was all that was left to make me remember my own." - -"Why should I be exempt, Helen?" replied Juliet. "I am not vain enough -to think I deserved that which I believed was in store for me; and -though deep and bitter has been the disappointment of all my hopes, -yet I trust to be enabled, by God's mercy, to bear that disappointment -calmly." - -Helen Barham gazed earnestly and sadly in her face, making no reply, -for some moments; but she then said--"Speak, Juliet, speak; tell me -more, now you have told so much; but do not, do not say he was -unworthy, for that I can never believe, even from your lips." - -"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Juliet, eagerly, with her whole soul coming -into her beautiful eyes. "Unworthy! oh, no!--he is worthy of all the -deepest, the tenderest, the most ardent, the most enduring love that -even a woman's heart can bestow. But, alas, Helen, it is all in vain! -He and I can never be united. Say not a word, dear Helen; for on this -subject I must be very, very brief. I dare not speak--I cannot speak -much, lest these tears should drown me. We can never be united, Helen; -there is a barrier between us that cannot be removed; and my only -hope, my only wish, is, to see him happy with some one who may deserve -to share his fate." - -Helen Barham cast her arms round Juliet's neck, and, for a moment or -two, gave way to an overwhelming flood of tears. She made no comment, -she asked no further question; and all she said, even in the end, was -"Oh, Juliet Carr--dear Juliet Carr!--would to God, that I might spend -my life with you! I know not, but I think that I might comfort you, as -you have often comforted me; and that peace, Juliet--calm peace, which -is all that either of us can hope for now, might sooner come to our -dwelling if we were together. To be with you, even for a brief space, -is a great happiness to me; and when your father sent for me--oh, how -gladly did I come, although I had long tried to fancy that I was -better away!" - -There was a pause for several minutes, but at length Juliet -asked--"Did my father, then, send for you, Helen?" - -"Yes," replied Helen Barham. "Did you not know it, Juliet? He sent a -messenger express to London for me, begging me to come down -immediately, on business of importance." - -"I never heard of it," said Juliet. "I thought you had come on your -brother's account. But there are my father and Mr. Barham in the -avenue. I will speak to you more about your brother, Helen, when I -have an opportunity. There are many things of which I wish to warn -you." - -To the heart that deals with facts as they exist, and not according to -the conventional mode of viewing them--to the heart that tries things -by its own feelings, and not by the appreciations of others to the -heart, in short that feels and acts for itself, the world, and the -world's customs, the idle apathy, the selfish indifference, the narrow -calculations, the dark, and often stupid caution of that ordinary -crowd which forms what is called the mass of society, must ever be -considered as a host of natural enemies. Thus we close our bosoms -against them; and when the gates have been unbarred for a moment, and -the feelings have been permitted to issue forth, it is wonderful how -soon, if any of the adversaries' troops approach, in the persons of -the worldly and the indifferent, the soldiers of the heart retreat -within the walls of the fortress, the drawbridge is pulled up, the -doors and sally-ports closed, and everything is put in a state of -stern defence. - -Such was the case with Helen Barham and Juliet Carr. The traces of -tears were rapidly wiped off, the every-day look put on as a veil, and -the very thoughts with which they had been so busy were chased away, -lest they might still affect the countenance, as soon as Mr. Carr and -William Barham approached the house. - -The old lawyer himself had become extremely thin and haggard since -Helen had seen him, and though he had recovered sufficient strength to -drive to Doncaster on that very morning, he was evidently sadly broken -and enfeebled. He met Miss Barham, however, with a good deal of that -fawning courtesy which he always displayed towards those whom he -sought to flatter and to win, and which was strangely, but not -unnaturally, contrasted with the acerbity and sarcastic bitterness -that he assumed towards those he disliked or despised. - -The conduct of William Barham, on meeting with his sister, was such as -the reader may very well conceive it would be. There was a shy -coldness about it, a sort of schoolboy-awkwardness, which was mixed -with an affectation of ease; and, through all, an enquiring underlook -of apprehension was apparent, as if he feared that Helen might have -been betraying his secrets to Miss Carr. In short, every word and -gesture rendered their meeting painful, even to Helen herself. Indeed, -for many months, each conversation between the brother and sister had -added but one source of grief or another to the number which the more -amiable of the two had to bear; but now she remarked not alone the -unpleasant and ungentlemanlike demeanour of her brother, but that in -personal appearance a considerable and painful change had taken place. -He looked thin and worn, and his face, which always bore a look of -pale dissipation, was now marked by several purple blotches, in -various places, and a bright red spot in the centre of each cheek. He -had a peculiar cough, too, which Helen did not like; for she was old -enough to remember something very like it, before her mother's death; -and the course which Juliet told her that her brother was pursuing was -certainly not one to improve his health and restore his vigour. After -Mr. Carr and the young man had been about ten minutes in the room, the -former left it, with a chuckling laugh, saying to Helen, that he had a -little note for her in his desk. He returned almost instantly, and put -into her hand a long slip of writing, upon which she gazed with -enquiring eyes, finding it very nearly, if not totally unintelligible. -"It is a sort of summons, my dear young lady," said the old man, "to -appear, and give evidence upon the trial of those villains who broke -into the house. It is all in proper form." - -Helen Barham turned very pale, saying--"I thought I should have been -spared this;" and sitting down with the document in her hand, she -continued gazing upon it in silence, with a thoughtful and anxious -expression of countenance, as if placed in a situation of sudden and -unexpected difficulty. - -"Pray, Mr. Carr," she asked, at length, "was it on this account that -you sent for me from town?" - -Mr. Carr saw that he had pained her, and he was evidently not a little -anxious to give her no offence. - -"No, no," he replied, eagerly--"not entirely, my dear Miss Barham--not -entirely; there are various other important things to be done. I must -have your authority, as well as your brother's, to act upon. He is not -quite of age yet, you know; and I have to consult with you upon a -great many matters, though I have put your affairs into the hands of a -gentleman, who agrees to take it upon the 'no cure, no pay' system. He -sees his way as clearly as I do, and signs an agreement to stand all -the expenses if he does not recover your property. Nevertheless, there -is much to be talked about; and as to this affair," he continued, -seeing that the first effect upon Helen's mind was wearing away--"you -know, my dear Miss Barham, I acted for the best in giving you the -subp[oe]na here, where I was at your elbow to afford you advice and -assistance. If I had not done so, they would have sent it to you in -London, and what would have come of it then? Nobody can escape such a -thing, you know, my dear Miss Barham; it is one of the bounden duties -of Englishmen to give evidence for the purpose of promoting the ends -of justice." - -Helen sat silent for a moment, and then asked--"What are the -consequences, Mr. Carr, of a person refusing to give evidence?" - -"Oh, very terrible, indeed!" exclaimed Mr. Carr; "I can scarcely tell -you what might, or what might not be done; but, certainly, in the very -first instance, anybody doing so would be committed for contempt of -court, and then they might stay their whole life in prison." - -Helen's cheek turned very pale, and Mr. Carr continued--"When anything -happens to make witnesses wish not to answer, they generally contrive -to evade the question, to say they are not sure of this thing or -that--to equivocate a little, in short." - -"But suppose they do not choose to equivocate?" said Helen. - -"Then they tell the truth," said Mr. Carr, sharply. - -Helen was silent and thoughtful, but there was a look of resolution in -her face, which made Mr. Carr somewhat apprehensive that she would not -act exactly in the way that he wished; and he was preparing all his -eloquence to show her the dangers and inconveniences of the plan he -suspected she was about to pursue, when one of the maids came into the -room quickly, saying, with an impatient air--"There is an old woman, -sir, at the door, wants to speak to you." - -"I can't speak with her now, Sally," replied Mr. Carr; "she must come -again." - -"But she says she must speak with you directly, sir," rejoined the -maid; "indeed, she is very saucy about it." - -"Oh, I dare say it is that old woman, Brown," said Mr. Carr, "who says -always there was five shillings owing to her son who died. Tell her it -is no such thing, and that she had better go away, or I will send for -a constable." - -"It isn't Goody Brown, at all," answered the woman, in a tone of very -little reverence for her master--"she told me something about her -name, but I forget what it was." - -"Go, and ask it--go, and ask it, then!" said Mr. Carr; and he was -about to recommence his argument with Helen during the girl's absence; -but she was not away more than a minute, and returned with a vastly -indignant air, saying--"The saucy old thing says she must and will see -you directly--that her name is Jane More, widow of Sergeant More; and -she will take no refusal." - -Mr. Carr turned as pale as death, pressed his hand upon his heart, and -sunk into a chair. - -"You are not well," cried Juliet, starting up. "Let me go and speak to -her, sir." - -"No, no, no!" cried N. Carr, eagerly--"on no account. Take her into my -little room, Sally. Some one give me a spoonful of brandy. Tell her I -am not well, or I would have spoken to her at once, but I will come -directly." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX. - - -As soon as Mr. Carr had left the room, Helen Barham turned towards the -place where her brother had been standing the moment before--not, -indeed, to ask his advice as to her future proceedings, for, alas, she -did not respect that brother sufficiently to trust in any of his -counsels!--but with the sort of enquiring look which nature has taught -us to direct towards any one nearly allied to us, in circumstances of -difficulty or danger. To her surprise, however, William Barham was no -longer there; and Juliet informed her that her brother had quitted the -room as soon as Mr. Carr began to speak of the robbery. "Indeed," she -added, with a smile, and little thinking her words would give pain, "I -perceive that he always does so." - -Helen Barham looked down, for the knowledge which she possessed of her -brother's former course of life produced some apprehension lest -William himself might be by some means implicated in the terrible -transaction which was about to undergo the investigation of the law. -When she recollected the conduct and the words of Harry Martin, too, -the probability seemed so great, that she actually trembled at the -thought of what might be the consequence; and the difficulties of her -own situation became aggravated a thousand fold by fears for her -brother. - -Juliet remarked her agitation, perhaps with some surprise, but she -made no observation, and Helen, as soon as she had recovered herself, -left the room, saying, that she wished to speak with William for a few -moments. She found him in the room to which she was directed by one of -the servants of the house, busily engaged in packing up a portmanteau. -He was looking extremely pale, and in answer to Helen's enquiries, -said that he intended to go back to London the next day. He made some -excuse for this sudden determination, which Helen did not clearly -understand, alleging that it was necessary he should see "the lawyer;" -but his sister could draw no farther information from him, and, -indeed, he appeared anxious to free himself from her presence. She -remained for some time, however, trying to soothe him, and -endeavouring to call up some better feelings in his heart; but she -found that her efforts were spent in vain, and with sorrow of various -kinds in her bosom, she returned to the room where she had left -Juliet. - -As she laid her hand upon the lock of the drawing-room door, she heard -her friend's voice calling loudly from a little room at the end of the -corridor,--"Helen! Helen!" cried Juliet; "pray send some of the maids. -Come to me, dear Helen--my father has fainted!" - -Helen ran into the room in which Mr. Carr usually transacted his -business, and found him seated in a chair, as pale as death, with his -daughter supporting his head. - -"Something has happened," said Juliet, in a low voice--"something has -happened between him and that woman who was here just now; for the -moment that she was gone, he called for me eagerly, but before I could -reach him he was in the state that you see." - -Measures were immediately taken for restoring Mr. Carr, and in about -half-an-hour they proved successful. He opened his eyes faintly and -looked around him, and then endeavoured to rise from his chair, but -was unable to do so. He was very angry, however, when he found that a -medical man had been sent for, vowed it was ruin and destruction, and -reproached Juliet bitterly for bringing him, as he termed it, to -poverty and disgrace. - -Poor Juliet wept, not so much at the sting of her father's reproaches, -as because she thought his senses were bewildered; for although Mr. -Carr throughout life had displayed his avarice in acts, he had been -very careful to avoid suffering the miser to appear in his words. He -often, on the contrary, affected a tone of liberality; talked much -about "petty savings," and people being "penny wise and pound -foolish;" with all those old proverbs and saws of liberality, which -are more frequently in the mouths of the greedy and the avaricious -than of the really generous and open-handed. - -Gradually, as he recovered himself, he became more guarded again, said -that as the doctor had been sent for he could not help it, but at the -same time put Juliet away from him with a cold air, and begged that -she would not act in such a way another time without his authority. He -asked, moreover, with a look of doubt and suspicion, if she had seen -that old woman, and seemed relieved when he was informed that such had -not been the case. - -The surgeon, when he arrived, would fain have sent Mr. Carr to bed, -declared that he was much more ill than he believed himself to be, and -protested that he would not answer for the consequences if his -directions were not obeyed. Mr. Carr resisted, however, saying, that -there could be no use of his going to bed then, as he must set off for -York at six o'clock on the following morning, to be present at the -assizes. - -It was in vain that Juliet remonstrated, and besought him to refrain -from an act which the surgeon assured him might cost his life,--it was -in vain that she represented how little it mattered whether the men -who robbed his house were convicted or not, if his own death was to be -the result. He grew angry with her arguments, telling her that she -knew not what she was talking about, and could not enter into his -views, or understand his motives; and so far, at least, he seemed to -be in the right, that the very exertion appeared to do him good, for -during the evening he went about making his preparations with much -greater strength than either Juliet or Helen believed him to possess. - -He was pale when he rose on the following morning, and his hand shook -a good deal, as if he had had a slight stroke of the palsy; but his -determination of proceeding to York was so evident, that Juliet dared -offer no farther opposition, and only petitioned to be allowed to -accompany him. He did not comply with her request, however, saying, -somewhat impatiently, that there was no need of increasing the charges -at an inn. His daughter judged, and judged rightly, that the -apprehension of expense was not the sole cause of her father's -unwillingness to take her with him, and she did not venture to propose -that arrangement which had but too often taken place between him and -herself--namely, that she should pay her share from her own private -income. - -As soon as the chaise appeared, Mr. Carr and Helen Barham got into it, -and the door was already shut when William Barham, who had been -wandering about the house during the whole morning, as if not knowing -what to do with his vacant time, ran up to the side of the vehicle, -and spoke a few words to Mr. Carr. The old man seemed surprised, but -after a reply and a rejoinder, exclaimed--"Very well--very well, -then--only make haste!" - -The youth's portmanteau was immediately sent for, and strapped upon -the carriage; he himself took his place inside, and the whole party -were borne away in a very few minutes. To Juliet, who watched them -from the window, the words which William Barham had spoken where -inaudible; and she was not a little surprised to see the young man -depart, even for a short time, without the ordinary courtesy of -bidding her adieu; for, to say the truth, there had been a growing -familiarity in his manner, which, though difficult to check, had been -not a little disagreeable to her. On the present occasion, she -concluded that he was going to witness the trial at York, and was glad -of the relief; but she would have been still more surprised at his -conduct, though even better satisfied with the result, if she had -known that he only proposed to accompany M. Carr as far as the high -road, and there to get a place in the first coach for London. - -While in the carriage with Mr. Carr and Helen, William Barham -maintained that sort of dull reserve which his sister's presence -seemed now to produce invariably, and only entered into conversation -for the purpose, of hinting to the old lawyer that he wanted a supply -of money. With scarcely a moment's hesitation given to his habitual -reluctance to part with money on any consideration, Mr. Carr produced -his pocket-book, and handed over at once two ten-pound notes to his -young companion, only stipulating that, when they arrived at the inn, -he should give a note of hand for the sum which he had received. - -"This man has been called a miser and a usurer," thought Helen, "and -yet he deals thus liberally and kindly. So do people gain the -reputation of vices that they do not possess." - -But poor Helen Barham knew not, that for every shilling which Mr. Carr -lent to William, he calculated that he would gain fifty, if not a -hundred per cent. On their arrival at the inn, which occupied the -angle where the by-road from Yelverly joined the high road from York -to London, Mr. Carr and William Barham got out of the carriage; and -the old lawyer carefully took a memorandum from the young man of the -sum which had been given him. William then took leave of his sister, -merely shaking hands as if she had been some common acquaintance, and -the chaise rolled on towards York, while Helen's brother remained -waiting the arrival of the coach. When it came, he got into the -inside, seeing that is was already tenanted by two well-dressed young -women, and an elderly gentleman; and in a few minutes the youth was in -full conversation, casting away entirely all that reserve which he had -displayed in the presence of his sister, and giving himself all sorts -of airs, as if he were the scion of some noble house, frequenting the -first society in the land, and possessing wealth at will. - -Fast drove the coach along the road, and faster went the young man's -tongue, the innocent girls within the vehicle giving full credit to -every word he said, though not particularly liking his manners and -appearance, and their elder companion, with more experience and -knowledge of the world, setting him down, not exactly for what he -really was, but for some saucy shopboy, suddenly possessed of a few -pounds, and raised in his own impudent imagination to the highest -pitch of fortune. - -At the end of about two hours, the coach drove up to an inn to change -horses, and at the same moment a dark-coloured, but highly-finished -barouche, rolled rapidly past on the side next to William Barham. The -old gentleman who occupied the other corner, could only perceive that -the carriage contained a man of a distinguished aspect, with fine -features and a very dark complexion; but William Barham recognised -with terror the well-known countenance of Lieberg, and saw that the -keen dark eye rested upon him while the finger was raised and the brow -contracted. He turned deadly pale, and became as silent as the grave. - -The old gentleman remarked all this, and whispered to one of -his daughters, "I suppose this vulgar young coxcomb is some -valet-de-chambre, and if so, depend upon it that was his master who -passed just now." - -William Barham's sharp ears caught the meaning of the whisper, and his -heart burned within him, but he did not dare to reply. His only -resource was to betake himself to the outside of the coach at the next -stage, and to drown the mingled feelings of apprehension and rage in -five or six glasses of strong brandy and water, taken wherever the -vehicle stopped long enough to give time for such potations. - - - - -CHAPTER XL. - - -It was in the interior of the well-known prison of York, just after -nightfall, that the prisoner Harry Martin sat by himself, having been -permitted a long interview with his wife in the course of the day, and -having apparently derived great comfort and consolation from her -presence--much greater, indeed, than that which he had derived from a -conversation with his lawyer, who had taken a view of his case not the -most encouraging. During the first day or two of his imprisonment he -had, to say the truth, felt a degree of despairing anxiety which he -had never before known in life; not, indeed, that he had displayed any -external sign of apprehension, unless it were a stern gravity of -language rather different from his usual gay and reckless tone. But -upon the whole he had been calm, talking with any one who saw him upon -indifferent subjects, and seemingly not at all engrossed with his own -situation, but only feeling the general impression of a serious -charge. His demeanour altogether had much pleased not only the -governor of the prison, but also the turnkeys; and the former declared -that he had seen many a guilty man in his day, but he had never seen -any who had less the manner of one than Mr. Martin, nor could he -conceive that what all the London officers said of him was true; while -the turnkeys, on their part, vowed that, whatever he had done, Mr. -Martin was "quite a gentleman." - -Although even in those days the prison licentiousness, commemorated in -the Beggar's Opera and in the works of our older novelists, had been -very nearly done away, yet a degree of licence existed in our gaols -unknown to our stricter rule. The discipline of a prison was a very -different thing then from that which it is now, and it rarely happened -that a harsh magistrate interdicted a prisoner before trial from any -reasonable communication with his friends and acquaintances. All that -was required from the governor of a gaol was the secure custody of the -prisoner's person, and if that was properly cared for, few questions -of any kind were asked. - -There were hours fixed, however, beyond which any visits to the prison -were not usually permitted, and it was with some surprise, therefore, -that Harry Martin saw the door of his cell open a few hours after the -ordinary time of admission. - -"A gentleman wants to speak with you, Mr. Martin," said one of the -turnkeys, and the prisoner, raising his eyes, beheld a tall and -powerful man, wrapped in a travelling cloak, enter the room while the -gaoler held the door for him to pass in. - -Harry Martin was not one to forget readily a face he had once seen, -but it took the reflection of a moment or two to connect that of his -visitor with the events of the past; and ere his recollection served -him, the door was closed, and he stood face to face with the personage -whom we have called Count Lieberg. The moment that he became aware of -who it was, the brow of the prisoner contracted, and he demanded -sternly--"What do you want with me?" - -Lieberg's dark, keen eye rested upon him heavily, with that sort of -oppressive light which seemed at once to see into and weigh down the -heart of those he gazed at, and he remained for a moment or two -without making any reply, as if to let the man before him feel the -full force of that basilisk glance. - -"When last we met," he said, at length, "you took away some papers--" - -Harry Martin had by this time recollected himself, and he replied. -with a loud laugh--"When last we met? Did we ever meet at all? That is -the question, my fine fellow. You seem to me as impudent as a quack -doctor, and I dare say are as great a liar as a horse-chanter." - -"When last we met," repeated Lieberg, in an unaltered tone, "you took -a pocket-book of mine, containing some papers of value to me and of no -value to you. What has become of them?" - -"What has become of them!" cried Harry Martin. "If I took any papers -of yours, depend upon it that they are by this time what you and I -soon will be." - -"And what is that?" demanded Lieberg. - -"Dust and ashes--dust and ashes!" replied Harry Martin. - -"You make a mistake," said Lieberg, calmly, "I have no intention of -being anything of the kind. But listen to me for a moment, my good -friend, and I will give you sufficient motives for making you change -your mind in this business. Those papers are of great consequence to -me; if they can't be found, the proofs of the facts to which they -referred are the next important things to obtain. If you can furnish -me with either the one or the other, you will benefit me and yourself -too. Hear me!--you will save your own neck from the gallows--You will -save your own life, I say." - -"I would not, to save fifty lives," answered Harry Martin. "Come, -don't talk to me any more about it, for I don't want to hear such -stuff. You have no power to give life or to take it. You, who, if laws -were equal, and punishments proportioned to crime, would find a far -higher gallows than any of us poor fellows--you, who are a robber of -more than money--a murderer of more than life--who gave you power to -offer me safety, or anything like it?" - -"The chance that placed me in the house which you broke into," replied -Lieberg, "and the wit that made me lie quiet when I found there was no -use in resisting. Upon my words hangs your life, and I pledge my -honour to save it, if you but restore me those papers." - -"Your honour!" exclaimed Harry Martin. "What's your honour worth? I -have heard some tricks of your honour, that make it of as little -value, to those who know what is underneath the surface, as a coiner's -shilling." - -"You are in the wrong," said Lieberg, calmly, keeping still fixed upon -him that peculiar look which Harry Martin could not prevent himself -from feeling, notwithstanding all his daring hardihood--"you are quite -in the wrong, my good friend, and are risking your neck, or rather, I -should say, absolutely condemning yourself to death for the sake of a -youth who has betrayed you, and who was the first to bring upon you -the eye of the law." - -"Has he betrayed me?" demanded Harry Martin, with his eye flashing. -"Has he betrayed me? If I thought that--" - -"I can prove it," replied Lieberg. "You have mistaken your friends for -your enemies, my good man. Listen to me for a very brief space of -time, and you shall soon see that you have not only done me injustice, -but yourself too. All the information that you possess, with regard to -me and to my proceedings, has been derived from a youth whom you -yourself know to be one of the most egregious liars in Europe, who has -misrepresented my conduct to every one, even while I was acting for -his own good. I should have supposed that you were too wise to trust -to one word that he says, even from what you knew of him before; but -surely you will not be foolish enough to give the slightest credit to -the falsehoods which he has spoken of me, when you find that he is -rascal enough to betray you without the least hesitation. Of the -latter fact you may be quite sure, although he may very likely have -bargained not to be brought forward at your trial. Take any means that -you like to satisfy yourself, and you will find that almost -immediately after the robbery had been committed, he went to the house -of Mr. Carr, and has remained there ever since. You will find, also, -that his sister has been brought down to give evidence against you; -and every enquiry that you make will prove to you, more and more -strongly, that it was he who pointed you out to the police as the man, -even when suspicion had very naturally fallen upon two other persons." - -Harry Martin walked up and down the narrow space of the cell, in a -state of terrible agitation. "So, so!" he said, "this is the game! He -shall smart for it!--I wish I had my hand upon his shoulder, that's -all; but I will have my day, yet. Never mind--revenge will come, and -it is sweet!" - -"It is, indeed!" said Lieberg, with a tone of such earnestness, that -no one could doubt he felt the burning passion, the hell-thirst of -which he spoke, with strong intensity, notwithstanding the calm and -indifferent demeanour which he so generally affected. "It is, indeed," -he said, "and no man who knows how sweet it is, lets slip the -opportunity when presented to him. The way before you, my good friend, -is open, and easy; give me those papers; or, if you really have them -not, furnish me with the proofs, which I know you possess, against the -boy, William Barham, and you at once save your own life, and gain your -revenge against him; for I tell you fairly, it is at him I strike." - -"Pooh! nonsense!--don't talk to me," cried Harry Martin; "it's his -sister you want. You care devilish little about him. Do you think to -come humbugging me in that manner?" - -"You are mistaken," said Lieberg, sternly; "I may seek revenge upon -them both, and so may you, too, for she is as much your enemy as he -is, and has come down for the express purpose of giving evidence -against you." - -"Not she!" cried Harry Martin; "that's a lie--I'll never believe it!" - -"I tell you, she arrived in York last night, with Mr. Carr," replied -Lieberg; "and, as you know, the trial comes on the day after -tomorrow." - -"She'll give no evidence against me, I'm sure," said Harry Martin, -gazing down upon the floor, but speaking in a less assured tone than -he had used before. "I don't think she would, if her life were at -stake." - -"If you are quite sure of that," answered Lieberg, in a meaning -tone--"if you are quite sure that the fear of being committed, and of -suffering a tedious imprisonment will not induce her to give some -intimation of the facts, you can trust her, and make yourself easy -upon her score. It were as well, however, to recollect all the -arguments that may be used to induce a girl like that to speak what -she knows, however strongly she may have promised you not to do so. In -the first place, they will shew her, that, both morally and -religiously, promises extorted under threats and the fear of death are -always held to be no promises at all, and quite in vain. They will get -lawyers, and priests, and friends, to tell her all this; and then they -will set before her eyes her duty to her country, and shew that -everybody is bound, by the strongest of moral obligations, to aid in -bringing an offender to justice. All the arguments, in short, which a -poor gentleman, whom you call the devil, has supplied to make people -betray each other under the idea of being very virtuous, will be used -towards her, and with effect; and then, to back all these persuasions, -will be held out the terror of the law, which is armed with power to -punish those who do not do their duty to society. Do you think any -girl will hold out against all this--against the arguments of lawyers, -and friends, and divines--and most likely, against her own convictions -also; and will quietly walk into a prison for an uncertain space of -time, solely to save a man from the gallows whom she never saw but -once in her life? If you do, my good friend, trust her--trust her by -all means; you are the best judge of the value of your own neck, -though probably there are some other people besides yourself, who may -grieve for you, and who may be left destitute if you are hanged." - -Harry Martin seemed shaken. He sat down at the table, he leaned his -head upon his hands, and the workings of his countenance told how -strong was the emotion within him. Lieberg watched him, with eyes -terribly skilled in reading the passions and weaknesses of the human -heart; and after he had paused for a moment, to let what he had said -have full effect, he went on--"So much for the girl!--and you must -recollect, that if she refuses to swear that you are the man, and -assigns for the reason that her life had been spared, even that will -tell against you, in some degree. Then comes her brother, and says all -that he knows of you; then come I myself, and swear to you positively. -Now, if you do what I want, you sweep away the whole of this mass of -evidence at once, and, in fact, may be said to set yourself free." - -"Why, how so?" cried Harry Martin. "How would that prevent her giving -her evidence?" - -"Do you think she would give her evidence against you, if by so doing -she condemned her own brother to death?" demanded Lieberg, in a low, -but emphatic tone; "and I promise you, she shall have that before her -eyes, at all events." - -Harry Martin gazed at him from under his bent brows, and for a moment -or two a variety of different expressions passed over the prisoner's -countenance, from which the dark, keen eye of Lieberg could extract no -information in regard to what was passing in his bosom. All that his -tempter could divine was, that he was shaken, that his resolution -wavered, though there was a certain look of scorn mingled with all the -shades that flitted across Martin's face, which was not very pleasant -to his proud companion. He failed not, however, to ply him with every -argument, to tempt him by every inducement, and Martin sat and -listened, sometimes gazing full upon Lieberg, sometimes bending his -eyes down upon the table, sometimes frowning heavily, and sometimes -indulging in a flickering smile, which crossed his countenance like -the lights that we occasionally see carried across the open windows of -a house, the tenant of which we know not, as we travel past it in a -dark night. - -"Well now, sir," he said, at length, looking up with a softened look, -in Lieberg's face--"Well now, sir, suppose I were to do as you wish, -what surety should I have that you will stand by me, in the time of -need?" - -Lieberg bent down his head, speaking across the table, and replied, "I -will acknowledge this night in presence of the turnkey, that in seeing -you, and hearing your voice, I have become convinced you are not one -of the men who broke into Mr. Carr's house, at Yelverly." - -"That might do," said Harry Martin, in a thoughtful tone--"that would -go a great way; but don't you think it would be a lie?" - -"A lie!" exclaimed Lieberg, with his lip curling--"Are you fool enough -to suppose, that a man of the world cares two straws about the mere -empty shade of truth, when a great and important object is to be -obtained? Where is the minister, the statesman, the patriot, who ever -dreams of the abstract truth or falsehood of a particular proposition? -The greatest reformer that ever lived, who harangues multitudes upon -corruption, and all the evils that afflict a state or a religion, will -no more scruple to falsify the truth in regard to an opponent, or to -tell a bare falsehood to gain an end, than a schoolboy will to rob an -orchard. Take them all, from Luther down to the lowest of your -purity-mongers in this happy island, and you will find that there is -not one of them who considers truth and falsehood, except in reference -to the end they have in view. Away with such nonsense between us--it -is only fit for a school-mistress's homily to girls of twelve years -old. I will do what I say, and that is sufficient; and ere your trial -comes on, I will so contrive to tutor Helen Barham that she shall work -your acquittal, without committing herself." - -"That will do--that will do!" said Harry Martin, meditating. "But -then, sir, I thought you intended to have your revenge upon this young -woman. I should not be sorry to have mine upon that scoundrel, her -brother. Now let me see; though we jump together in that. I should not -like the poor girl ill treated at all--I don't suppose you would ever -go to strike a woman, or to punish her in that sort of way, at all?" - -Lieberg smiled contemptuously, and replied--"You cannot understand, my -good friend, the nature of the revenge I seek; but be satisfied! It is -nothing of the kind you imagine." - -"But I should like to know what it is, sir," said Harry Martin--"I -should much like to know what it is before I consent.--Anything in -reason, but no violence!" - -His tone was very much altered, and Lieberg marked with no light -satisfaction that everything promised well for his purposes. - -"Well," he said, at length, "my revenge should be this: to force her -to be mine, to bind her to myself by ties she loathes and abhors--to -bow her pride to the dust, by none of the ill-treatment that you dream -of, but by caresses that she hates--ay, and daily to know that her -situation, as my paramour, is a pang and an anguish to her, while she -has no means of freeing herself from the bond!" - -"Well!" cried Harry Martin, starting up, with such fury that he -overset the table, "you are a damneder scoundrel than I thought man -could be! Get out, or I will dash you to atoms!" And at the same -moment he seized Lieberg by the shoulder, as if to cast him headlong -forth from the door. - -To his surprise, however, he found that, notwithstanding all his own -great strength, he could not move him in the least, and that the dark -man before him stood rooted like a rock to the floor. - -"Beware!" said Lieberg, lifting up his finger with a scornful smile, -as the prisoner drew back in some astonishment--"beware!" and at the -same moment one of the turnkeys opened the door to enquire what was -the matter. - -Lieberg went out without making any reply, and the prisoner was once -more left alone. - -"Ay," said Martin when he was by himself; "now if they have a cell in -the place fit to receive a man that has murdered his own father, they -should put that fellow into it. How the scoundrel was taken in, to -tell all his rascality!--I don't believe a word of it--never peach. I -know a little bit about women, too, and I'll bet my life she doesn't -say a word--only those rascally fellows may get it out of her; those -lawyers. I have seen them puzzle a cleverer head than hers with their -questions. However, we will see: a man can but die once, and I'd -rather do that while I'm about it, than give the poor girl up into the -hands of such an infernal villain as that, even if I had the papers to -give him, which, thank God, I have not!--for no man can tell what he -will do when he is tempted.--I suppose it will go hard with me after -all!" And with this not very pleasant reflection, Martin cast himself -into a chair, and appeared to give himself up to calculate the chances -for and against himself, with a heavy brow and a sad and anxious eye. - - - - -CHAPTER XLI. - - -Man, in his collective quality, is undoubtedly a gin-drinker, a lover -of ardent spirits, a seeker of all that stimulates the palate, both -mental and corporeal. The wholesome food of every-day life we soon -learn to loathe, and even the excitement of the imagination by the -mimic scene or tale of fictitious distress, is willingly cast away for -the more potent taste of real sorrow and actual crime. How we flock to -see the trial of any notorious criminal!--how eagerly we watch the -workings of apprehension, and anguish on his countenance!--how -critically we examine the gradations of emotion, and fear, and awe, -and despair, as they move the stubborn features, or make the strong -frame writhe! How we gloat upon the deadly anguish of a fellow-human -heart through all the terrible scenes in the administration of -justice, from the first examination of the captured criminal, to the -last dread moment upon the fatal drop! - -Is it then, indeed, that man loves to witness misery, that he enjoys -the spectacle of agony in a creature like himself? No; no more than he -enjoys pain in his own person when he drinks those burning things from -which his infant lips would have drawn back, or eats those flaming -condiments which set the palate in a blaze. Stimulus--it is all for -stimulus! Stimulus that makes up one half of all the enjoyments of the -passions, the great ingredient in strife and exertion, the incentive -in the course of glory, the companion of ambition! - -The criminal court at York was filled to the doors. The reporters for -the London newspapers were all present, come down to the mart of -excitement for the purpose of hawking it in retail over the whole -country. Manifold were the lawyers present to hear what they justly -expected would prove a curious case, and the rest of the place was -occupied by a various multitude, not only from the city itself and the -neighbouring county, but from various parts of England, and even from -the capital. There was expectation in every countenance, and each -little movement that took place in the court created not only a slight -rustling murmur, and a motion of every head forward to see what was -taking place, but also produced the palpitation of many a heart from -mere eagerness and anxiety for the result. A great part of the crowd -consisted, as is usually the case, of women, and a more than ordinary -interest had been excited amongst the fairer and tenderer portion of -the community, by the rumours which had been circulated regarding the -prisoner Martin. He had become, as it were, the hero of the day; and -his long evasion of the officers' pursuit, his sojourn on the moors, -and his capture in attempting to escape from a distant cottage, had -all been magnified, and made the theme of wonder and comment, so that -more than one penny pamphlet, containing an account of "the adventures -of Harry Martin," had been produced from the brains of several -marvel-mongers in York. Then, again, there was the tale of his -beautiful young wife and her mother having followed him to the place -of his confinement; and a report was current that the old woman had -been heard to say, on several occasions, that Harry was not guilty, -and that it would prove so; which created a very general belief in his -innocence amongst the many whose ignorance of all the mass of crime -that exists in this world renders them ever ready to believe that -those who boldly assume virtue, are virtuous. - -The first cause that came on was one of no possible amusement to any -but the parties concerned; one of those cases of horse-stealing or -sheep-stealing, which sadly try the patience of an expecting auditory, -when something more interesting, if not more important, is to follow -immediately after. The counsel, however, on both sides, were brief, -the jury themselves were impatient, and that trial was soon over; for -it is no less true than strange, that even in courts of justice the -accidental circumstances connected with any particular case make an -immense difference in the portion of attention paid to the -investigation thereof, though the crime and the punishment remain the -same. - -The judges of the land, indeed, generally hold, as far as is -necessary, that calm and dignified impartiality which preserves the -same estimation of all things submitted to their judgment, without any -reference to aught but that which is brought before them. Such is not -the case, however, either with juries or with the gentlemen of the -bar, and any vulgar crime will be investigated, judged, and punished, -with a rapidity truly surprising, when the same act, dignified by the -situation of the parties, or brought into notice by something new and -striking in the mode of its perpetration, will occupy a court for -whole days, and call forth the most profound affections in the breasts -of jurors, counsellors, and auditory. - -The barrister who would conduct a trial for horse-stealing, with a -light and flippant speech of five minutes, although by the sanguinary -laws of old, the life of the prisoner was in as great danger as if he -had committed murder, would become impressed by the deepest sense of -his situation, and speak by the hour together, if some great man were -slain by the hand of an inferior; and the slightest touch of romance -will hold a court for hours over a trial for murder, which would hang -a dozen men for simple forgery in an hour and a half; and yet the -responsibility is the same--the life of a fellow-being is in both -cases at stake.[1] Although, perhaps, it no longer happens that -"Wretches hang, that jurymen may dine;" yet many a man has a cause -affecting his life, or his happiness through life, tried with no -slight inattention, because he has not committed some distinguished -crime, or performed it in a remarkable manner. - -At length, the expected moment came for the trial of Martin and his -companions, and the prisoners were brought in and placed at the bar. -All eyes were upon them, and certainly an awful moment must it be, -when a man enters a crowded and expecting court, loaded with the -charge of a heavy crime, waiting for the ordeal of a public trial, -knowing that his fate for life or death is there to be sealed in a few -short hours, and sees fixed upon him the thousand eyes of a multitude -who have come there to pry into and enjoy all his emotions, to witness -the terrible struggle, and mark how he bears his destiny. It must be a -strong heart, or a hard one, that can endure that first look with -calmness. - -Very different from each other, in aspect and demeanour, were the four -men who now advanced into the dock. Two of them hung their heads and -looked down upon the ground; one of them gazed around with a faint and -affected smile, nodding to some one that he saw in the crowd, and -labouring painfully to appear at ease. Martin, on the contrary, came -forward, looking straight before him, with his head erect, his broad -chest expanded, and his step slow, but firm. His brow was somewhat -knit and thoughtful, but his air was frank as usual, and after having -gazed towards the bench and the barristers' table, he turned his eyes -slowly to the right and left, scanning the eager faces of the crowd -with an unquailing eye and an unchanging countenance. The clerk of the -arraigns then read the indictment, charging the four prisoners with -breaking into the house of Mr. Carr, at Yelverly, and stealing thence -various sums of money, and articles of gold and silver, and he then -asked the prisoners severally for their plea. - -Contrary to the expectation of all present, while the three men who -had seemed most cowed by the aspect of the court, pleaded "Not -guilty," in a firm and distinct tone, and gave an immediate answer, -Martin paused for a moment, ere he replied, as if he had some -hesitation, and then answered likewise, but in a low voice, "Not -guilty." - -It may seem strange, it may be called unnatural, but I believe that, -at that moment, there was in the heart of the bold and criminal man of -whom I speak, a repugnance to tell a public falsehood, and to put in a -plea that was not true. He would have given a great deal, as he stood -there, to have been permitted to claim the old battle ordeal--ay, if -there had been twenty champions against him; but with all his faults -and crimes, he liked not to say he was not guilty, when he knew -himself to be so. - -The jury was then called over and sworn, no challenges being made, and -after the usual formalities, the counsel for the crown addressed the -court, with a due sense of the responsibility that rests upon him who -undertakes the part of public accuser. Not one word did he say to -display his own skill, or eloquence, to excite the passions of his -auditory, or to prejudice the cause that was about to be tried. He -mentioned the facts of the robbery, as they had taken place, the -evidence by which he intended to prove those facts, the circumstances -which he thought might justly fix the crime upon the prisoners at the -bar, and then left it to the jury to decide whether they were guilty -or not, according to the impression produced by the testimony about to -be given before them. - -After the conclusion of the counsel's speech, a momentary interruption -of the proceedings took place, and a report ran round the court, that -one of the principal witnesses had been taken suddenly ill. The judge -and the counsel for the crown held some conversation together, the -principal part of which was only heard by those near them; but at -length the former said, distinctly--"I think that such is the best -course to pursue. It does not much matter to you in what order the -evidence is taken, and, probably, before we have proceeded far, the -witness may be able to appear." - -The counsel acquiesced in the judge's view, much to the relief of the -spectators, who had become apprehensive that they might lose their -amusement for the morning. - -The two witnesses first called were the female servants of Mr. Carr, -who, together with the labourers who had come to the rescue of the -inhabitants of Yelverly, proved the facts of the robbery, but could -say nothing to fix the guilt upon either of the prisoners in the dock. -The housemaid, indeed, dealt a little in the marvellous, and though -her fellow-servant had declared that she was asleep the whole time, -vowed that she had seen one of the robbers, and that he was at least -six inches taller than any of the prisoners; which called from the -prisoner's counsel the significant remark, that the maid's testimony -would go far to fix the burglary upon the Irish Giant. He declined to -cross-examine her, however, saying, with a nod and a shrewd look to -the jury, that her evidence was very well as it was, and would be -received for as much as it was worth--but no more. Some of the -prisoners smiled, but Harry Martin still remained grave, and -thoughtful. His brow, indeed, gathered into a stern frown when the -name of the next witness was pronounced, and Frederick, Count Lieberg, -was called into court. - -The foreign appellation, and the rank of the witness, caused a -movement of curiosity amongst the spectators, and a slight murmur, in -the midst of which, Lieberg advanced, and took his place in the -witness-box, with that sort of calm and impressive demeanour, which -bespeaks both attention and belief--very often, alas! where neither is -due; for those who have been accustomed to frequent senates and -courts, must have observed how much attention an empty speech will -gain from an attractive tone and manner; and how readily a falsehood -is believed, when the face of the teller bears the appearance of a -firm conviction. Let the reader be sure that the lie is as much in the -manner as the words, and that its success depends more upon the former -than the latter. - -Lieberg's handsome face, too, and fine person, the accurate taste of -his dress, and his military carriage, all struck the spectators, and -the court, and prepared them to give full credit to every word that he -uttered. The judge alone, long accustomed to remark the slightest -changes of the human countenance--whose memory was, in short, a -dictionary of looks--remarked a something when the eye of the witness -lighted on the prisoner Martin, which made him say to himself--"There -is hatred there." It was no permanent expression, but one that passed -like a gleam of lightning, over his face, and was gone--a flash of the -eye, a sudden convulsive curl of the lip, a momentary contraction of -the brow, and then all was calm again. - -After stating who and what he was, and that he had visited the house -of Mr. Carr for the purpose of hiring some shooting in the -neighbourhood, Lieberg went on to give, in a clear and perspicuous -manner, and, as usual, without the slightest foreign accent in the -world, his account of all that occurred on the night of the robbery. -Nor was that account far different from the truth, for Lieberg well -knew that truth is always more convincing than falsehood, and, -consequently, he contented himself with as little of the latter -ingredient in his story as was possible, consistent with his purposes. -The only part, then, of his statement which was calculated to deceive, -was that he had been roused out of his sleep by a scream, and was -issuing forth from his room to see what it was, when he received a -blow on the head, which stunned him for a few minutes. He next -proceeded to say, that on recovering his senses, he found himself -bound, and, looking through his half-closed eyes, saw two men in his -chamber, rifling his trunks and dressing-case. They remained there, he -continued, for some time, talking aloud, and then went away, leaving -him still tied. - -"Have you seen either of those men since?" demanded the examining -counsel. - -"I have," replied Lieberg, firmly. "I see one of them now,"--and he -fixed his eyes upon Harry Martin, with a stern look. - -The judge smiled, as he saw the direction of his glance; but the -counsel bade the witness point out the man, if he still saw him in -court. Lieberg immediately held out his hand towards Martin, -saying--"Of the four prisoners in the dock, the one upon the extreme -right, I can swear to, as one of those whom I saw in my room that -night." As he spoke, he bent his eyes full upon Martin's face, and the -prisoner returned his stare, with a look as proud and powerful as his -own; and again a murmur ran through the court, as the spectators -remarked the glances which those two men interchanged. - -"Do you see in the court the second man who was in your room?" -demanded the counsel. - -"I think that the other prisoner, at the further end of the dock, is -he," said Lieberg; "but I cannot swear to him." - -After a few more questions, the examination in chief was ended, and -Count Lieberg was turned over to the hands of the prisoners' counsel, -who proceeded to cross-examine him at length. - -It is a terrible engine, a cross-examination, in the hands of one who -knows how to wield it properly. It is a sort of mental torture, for -the purpose of making a witness confess the truth, but which, like the -rack and the thumb-screw, has as often brought forth falsehood, as -that which is sought to be elicited; and yet it is impossible, -perhaps, to do without it. The proud spirit of Lieberg writhed -within him at all that he was obliged to endure, during his -cross-examination, but with the wonderful command which he possessed -over himself, he covered, for a long time, all his feelings with an -exterior of cold composure; revenging himself, from time to time, upon -the counsel, by a bitter sneer, which made the court smile, though his -own lip remained unmoved and stern. - -He was made to go over and over again the exact position in which he -stood, when he received the blow that stunned him; and a number of -questions were asked which seemed directed to puzzle the witness, more -than to accomplish any other object; and then the counsel demanded, -suddenly, whether he were not actually up, and at the door of his -room, when he heard the scream he had mentioned? - -"I have already said," replied Lieberg, "that it woke me from my -sleep; and I must appeal to the court, whether this course of -examination is to be persisted in?" - -The judge, however, did not see that the question was at all -objectionable, and the counsel had the pleasure of finding that he had -irritated the witness. He then went on to ask him, by what signs and -external marks it was that he recognised the prisoner; and he made him -acknowledge that the faces of the men he had seen were covered with a -black crape, and their figures enveloped in smock frocks. - -"How was it, then," the counsel asked, "that the Count recognised one -of them so rapidly?--was it by his feet, which might have appeared -from under the smock frock--or was it by his hands?" - -Lieberg replied that it was by his general appearance; and, knowing -that his visit to the prisoner's cell might, sooner or later, be made -a subject of discussion, he determined, with his usual decision of -character, to touch upon it at once himself. - -"I remember him," he said, "by his general appearance, and also by -another indication. I have told the court that I heard him speak for -some time----" - -"But," exclaimed the counsel, interrupting him, and evidently prepared -for what was to follow, by some intimation from Martin himself--"but -you have not heard him speak in this court; and I will now ask you, -Count Lieberg, upon your oath--remember, you are upon your oath, -sir--whether you did not visit this prisoner in York Castle, for the -purpose of entering into a compromise with him, which would have -nullified your evidence here this day?" - -The counsel for the crown here interfered, and the court declared that -the question could not be so put in such a shape, though the counsel -for the prisoner asserted that it was necessary for his defence. -The very discussion, however, produced what the keen lawyer -desired--namely, a doubt in the minds of the jury; and Lieberg's eye -gathered, in a moment, from the countenances around him, that an -advantage had been gained by his adversary. He decided at once upon -his line of conduct, and, bowing to the court, said, with a degree of -rapidity which rendered it difficult to stop him--"The question has -been asked, and I am not only willing, but desirous, of answering it -at once. It is very easy for a hireling advocate, by base -insinuations, to affect the character of a witness, but the stain must -not rest upon my honour. I did visit the prisoner the night before -last; but it was, as I explained to those who gave me admission, for -the purpose of hearing him speak in common conversation, with a view -to make myself quite sure of his identity. He threatened me, it is -true, if I gave evidence against him, and----" - -But the court again interfered, in a peremptory tone, signifying -distinctly, that neither the counsel nor the witness could be allowed -to go on in the course which they were following, and Lieberg's -cross-examination was soon after terminated, the barrister who -conducted it being satisfied with the impression which he had -produced, and which remained unfavourable to Count Lieberg; for -suspicion is one of those evil weeds which, when once planted, can by -no possibility be eradicated from the soil in which they have taken -root. - -Lieberg left the witness-box with a frowning brow, but took a place in -the court to see the rest of the proceedings. At the next name that -was called, there were two hearts that beat in the court--that of the -prisoner, and that of Count Lieberg; but it was the heart of the -latter which throbbed most violently when the crier pronounced the -words--"Helen Barham!" He looked round the people, and thought it -strange to see the indifference upon the faces of all; for so intense -were his own sensations, that he forgot the crowd were not aware who -Helen Barham was, and that the name, for aught they knew, might -appertain to some inferior person in the household of Mr. Carr. When -she appeared, however, and lifted her veil, her extraordinary -loveliness produced at first a dead silence, and then a low murmur of -admiration. Helen's cheek, which was unusually pale when she entered, -grew crimson as she saw the multitude of eyes upon her, and read in -every look the effect of her beauty upon the crowd. To one, feeling as -she did, that admiration was a very painful part of a situation -already too terrible. She turned pale again--she turned red--she felt -as if she should faint; and, while in this state, an old mumbling -officer of the court put a book into her hand, ran over indistinctly -some words she did not hear, and then added, in a louder tone--"Kiss -the book!" Helen obeyed mechanically; and, after a short pause, to -allow her to recover herself, her examination began. The counsel for -the crown addressed her in a softened voice; and while she spoke in -answer to his questions, and detailed all that had occurred on the -night of the robbery, the prisoner, Martin, never took his eyes from -her face. At the same time, the dark light of Lieberg's--if I may use -a term which seems a contradiction--poured upon her countenance -unceasingly. It seemed as if he were trying to intimidate her by that -stern fixed gaze; but Helen had now regained her composure, and -proceeded unwavering, with her soft musical voice, in a tone low -indeed, but so clear, that each word was heard by every ear. There was -no backwardness no hesitation; and there was not a heart in that hall -which did not feel she was uttering the simple, undisguised truth. She -told how she had been awakened; how she had seen the face of one of -the robbers; how she had uttered an involuntary cry; how he had rushed -towards her, with the intention of burying her testimony against him -in the silence of the grave, and how he had spared her. - -She paused for a moment, while a tear or two ran over her cheek, and -hers were not the only eyes in the court that shed bright drops. - -She then went on to tell all that had occurred afterwards, till the -period when she was left alone in Sheffield; and then the counsel took -a grave, and somewhat sterner tone with her, saying--"Miss Barham, I -feel deeply for your situation, after the promise that you have made, -for the purpose of saving your life; but before I propose to you the -question which I am about to ask, I beg to remind you, first, that no -promise, exacted under fear of death, can be held binding for one -moment; secondly, that you have a duty to your God and country to -perform--to the laws, and to society in general, which duty must be -accomplished unflinchingly; and I now ask you, by that duty, however -much pain it may give you--Do you, or do you not, see in this court -the man whose face you beheld on the night in question?" - -Helen paused, and there was a dead silence through the whole hall. - -"I will not prevaricate in the least," she replied, in a voice still -firm, though her face was very pale, "and I know fully what I expose -myself to; but I will not answer, in any way, a question which -endangers the life of a man who spared mine when my death would have -ensured his safety. I will not say, whether I do see him or do not see -him, and I will bear no testimony against him whatsoever." - -Again there was a profound silence in the court; and then the counsel -expostulated, and the judge, in a mild but serious manner, brought -forward every argument which could be adduced, to persuade Helen -Barham to answer the question asked her; but nothing moved her, and -when he added a threat of using the authority with which he was -invested for punishing contempt of the court, she replied in a mild -and humble, but still a firm tone--"I came hither, my lord, with a -full knowledge of what you might be obliged to do; and I have only to -beseech you, in consideration of the circumstances in which I am -placed, to deal with me as leniently as possible, believing that it is -a firm belief I should be committing a great crime, were I to act -otherwise, that makes me maintain a silence which, whatever it may be -called, does not border in the slightest degree upon contempt." - -The good judge looked down, evidently distressed and puzzled how to -act. But the counsel for the crown--resolved at all events to -gain some admission which might prove the fact he wanted to -establish--demanded, somewhat suddenly--"Is it your final -determination, Miss Barham, not to point out in this court the man -whose face you saw on the night in question?" - -"I did not say he was in the court," replied Helen, who had studiously -kept her eyes turned from the dock ever since she entered--"I know not -whether he is in the court or not. I merely said that I would not -answer any question on the subject. If it were to affect my life -itself I would make the same reply, for that life which he spared he -has every right to require again, if by the sacrifice of it his own -can be shielded." - -"I fear," said the judge, "that the dignity of the court must be -vindicated. Miss Barham, I warn you, that if you still refuse to give -evidence, I must commit you for contempt, as the most lenient method -of dealing with you." - -Helen bowed her beautiful head, replying, in a low tone--"I know it, -my lord." - -"Let the warrant be made out," said the judge; "and let the witness be -removed in custody." - -As he saw Helen quitting the witness-box in charge of the officers of -the court, Harry Martin took a quick step forward to the front of the -dock, as if about to speak, but at that moment a warning voice was -heard amongst the crowd, exclaiming--"Harry!" - -His eyes ran rapidly round to that side of the court, and he saw his -wife with her two hands clasped, gazing with a look of agony in his -face. He instantly cast down his eyes again, and drew slightly back, -while one of his companions in captivity whispered--"Well, that girl -is a diamond!" - -In the meanwhile, a pause had taken place in the court; and the judge, -anxious to get rid of the impression which Helen's conduct had -produced upon himself as well as others, directed the next witness to -be called. The name of Mr. Carr was accordingly pronounced, the -counsel at the same time asking some one who stood near if that -gentleman were well enough to appear. Ere an answer could be given, -however, Mr. Carr himself was supported into the witness-box, and was -accommodated with a seat. He was deadly pale, and shook very much, as -if affected by cold or fear; and he gave his evidence in so low a -tone, that the examining barrister was more than once obliged to bid -him raise his voice. He, as the rest of the witnesses had done, -detailed all that he knew of the robbery, but as his room was the one -which had been the most completely rifled, he appeared to have seen -more of the actual robbers than any one else. There were four of them, -he said, and he had had a good opportunity of marking them well while -they tied him to the bed-posts, and stripped his chamber of all that -was valuable in it. He had not seen their faces, it is true, but -nevertheless, from their general appearance, he could swear to them -anywhere. - -Towards this part of Mr. Carr's evidence, he seemed to become heated -by the thought of the property he had lost, and he spoke much louder -and quicker than before, but just then there was a little bustle and -confusion on the opposite side of the court, and Mr. Carr raised his -eyes. What he saw there no one knew, but his voice fell, and his -countenance changed; and when the counsel told him to point out the -persons who had robbed him, if he saw them in the court, Mr. Carr -gazed into the dock with a vacant look, and shook his head, saying--"I -do not think any of those are the men. The three on this side, indeed, -might be amongst them, but that man beyond "--and he pointed to the -prisoner Martin--"was certainly not one." - -A murmur of surprise, and it must be said of indignation, took place -at the counsel's table, for lawyers are not easily deceived in such -matters, and there was not one man there who was not perfectly -convinced that the prisoners at the bar were the persons who had -committed the robbery, and, moreover, that Mr. Carr knew it to be so. -The examining counsel made one more effort, by asking Mr. Carr how he -happened to be so sure in the case of Martin. - -"Because," replied Mr. Carr, "none of the housebreakers were so tall -and powerful." - -"And yet," said the barrister, turning round to his brethren, "two of -the other prisoners are taller than he is. My lord, I think it is -inexpedient, after what we have heard, to call any further witnesses." - -"I think so too," said the judge; "but I shall let the case go to the -jury." - -The prisoners declined making any defence, and the judge remarked it -was scarcely necessary for him to sum up the evidence, adding--"A more -disgraceful case I have never had the misfortune to see tried." The -jury, without quitting the box, returned a verdict of "Not Guilty." - -The judge then addressed the prisoners, saying--"A jury of your -country has acquitted you of a great crime, and I will not take upon -myself to make any observation tending to impugn the only verdict it -could return under the circumstances; but, at the sane time, you will -feel that there are facts connected with this trial which give it a -peculiar character, and that the same are never likely to occur again. -If, then, either or any of you have hitherto led a vicious or criminal -life, let the danger you have now run be a warning to you.--I do not -think, sir," he continued, addressing the leading counsel for the -crown, "that after what has taken place, we can deal very severely -with Miss Barham. Let it be notified to her, that upon due petition -the court will order her discharge;" and he turned, to his paper to -see what was the next case set down for trial. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII. - - -"The climate, not the heart, he changes who flies across the wave." So -said the old Roman, some thousand years ago, and doubtless what he -said was true, both in his own day, when men cultivated a firm, fixed -spirit within them, and also in the present, in the case of some -individuals, to whom has descended the gem-like hardness of the -antique mind, on which lines, once engraved, are never to be effaced. -Nevertheless, in the rapid change of scene, in the running from land -to land, in new sights and new excitements, in the companionship of -fresh acquaintances, and even in the every-hour collision with our -fellow-creatures which takes place only in travelling, one wears away -the sharpness of some sorrows, as the gem which has rolled for ages in -the waters of the Tiber, or which is cast up by the waves of the Ægean -Sea, though it retains the figures which were cut into it ages ago, -loses the sharp outline that it received from the graver's tool. - -As there is scarcely a plant on earth from which the bee cannot -extract honey, so there is scarcely a scene in the wide world from -which the mind that seeks real wisdom cannot draw a moral; and every -moral has its consolation. The very aspect of strange cities, whatever -be the grief in our heart at the time, brings its comfort, derived we -seldom examine how, and often mistake when we do examine, but wrought -out justly and reasonably, by the silent working of that spirit within -us, which, if we would let it, would always deduce its homily from -every object of the senses. We wander through the streets of a great -town, we gaze up at the tall houses, we mingle with the busy crowd, we -see the sunshine streaming upon some mansions, and the deep shade -resting upon others; at one window we behold a group of merry faces, -at another the close-drawn curtain, indicative of sickness, anguish, -and death. From the one door, with tabor, and pipe, and garlands, and -scattered flowers, goes forth the bride to the altar; from another, -streams out the dark procession of the grave. On each countenance that -we meet is written some tale of joy or sorrow; each street has its -history, each dwelling presents an episode in the great poem of human -life. We return to our own chamber with a calmness in our sorrows, -with a resignation in our melancholy that we have not before felt--and -why? - -Is it the universality of human misery that gives us a false support? -Is it, as the most misanthropical of philosophers has declared, that -there is comfort for each man in the sorrows of his fellow-creatures? -Is this the process by which we derive consolation from mingling in -the busy haunts of unknown races of beings like ourselves, and -discovering the same cares, pursuits, and joys, and griefs throughout -the world? - -Oh, no!--it is, that we are taught our own littleness, as one -individual ant in a whole ant-hill; and from the sense of our own -littleness we gain humility, and from humility resignation, and from -resignation love and admiration for that great God who made the -wondrous universe, of which we are an atom--some knowledge of his -power--some trust in his wisdom--confidence in his goodness, and some -hope in his protecting arm. - -Who is there that has ever stood amongst the multitudes of a strange -city, that has not asked himself--"What am I in the midst of all -these? what are all these to the God that made them? and is not that -God mine?" There may be such, but those who seek it will ever find, in -the contemplation of any scene where the workings of Almighty will are -displayed, some balm for those wounds which almost every man, in the -great warfare of the world, carries about beneath his armour; for--to -end as we have begun--there is a drop of honey in every flower. - -Morley Ernstein had executed his purpose; he had quitted England to -search--not for happiness, but for forgetfulness--not forgetfulness of -her he loved, but forgetfulness of himself and of his situation. But -alas, reader, it must be acknowledged, he sought not the drop of honey -in the way that it might most easily be found! The same impatient -spirit was upon him, which rebelled against the share of human sorrow -that was allotted to him; and, full of its suggestions he struggled to -drown thought and reflection, rather than to find comfort by their -aid. Pride, too, as we have shewn, had its share in his feelings; he -was angry with himself that his heart had bent before any blow. He -accused himself of weakness, not knowing where he was really weak; he -strove to steel his bosom, and, in fact, only hardened his external -demeanour. - -A fit of illness which overtook him at Calais, of no very serious -character or long duration, only served to increase his irritation and -impatience. He had been angry before with the weakness of his mind, as -he called it; he now felt a degree of scorn at himself and at human -nature, for that weakness of body which yields to any of the trifling -accidents of air and climate; and the very irritation which he felt, -increased and prolonged the sickness under which he laboured. - -At length, however, he was convalescent, and being permitted to go out -for an hour or two, walked forth into the town, thinking that in its -streets he might find something to call his mind away from himself. -But little indeed can the good town, whose name was written upon -Mary's heart, display, even to the eyes of an Englishman, to occupy or -interest him for a moment. It is a sad, dull place, but in those days -the communication between France and England having been interrupted -for many years, and only opened for a few, there was a kind of local -colouring about Calais which supplied the want of other attractions. -There one saw a great many things that one had never beheld before. -Postilions were to be found with enormous pigtails, and as much wood -as leather in their boots; ropes served for harness, and peasant women -came to market covered with great ornaments of gold. The contrast, -indeed, was strong between the two sides of the water, and Morley -Ernstein's eye soon became occupied, even when he believed his mind -was taking no part in any of the objects around him. - -The dull lethargy which comes upon the spirit of man under the -influence of any bitter disappointment, is never so easily thrown off -as when fancy is awakened by some of the magic tones of association. -There are few places in this good world that are not linked on to some -interesting event in history, and even the small, dull town of Calais -itself figures in the records of the past on more than one important -occasion. Nothing, however, presented itself, in the aspect of the -place, or in anything on which his eye rested, that could carry the -mind of Morley Ernstein away to other days, till he paused for a -moment, after a ramble round the market-place, before a bronze bust, -which is not easily to be passed unnoticed. - -There are some heads, as the reader must often have remarked, which -are very beautiful in painting, but which lose all their interest when -sculptured; there are others, however, which seem to demand the marble -or the bronze; and if we compare accurately the busts that have come -down to us from ancient times with the history of the persons whom -they represent, we shall find that the man of fixed and powerful -thoughts, of stern and rigid determination, affords almost always the -best subject for the statuary, as if the character of his mind -required something analogous to receive the expression which it gave -to his features. Of all the heads in modern times, perhaps that of the -Cardinal de Richelieu was the one which afforded the finest subject -for the sculptor. All the paintings of him are weak when compared to -his character; it is in bronze that his image ought to go down to -posterity. - -The moment Morley's eyes fixed upon his bust, the lightning of the -mind flashed back into the chasm of past years--the scenes of other -days, the block, the axe, the chamber of the torture, and all the dark -implements with which that terrible man built up the fabric of his -greatness, came before his eyes in a moment, and, for the first time -since the cloud of sorrow had fallen upon him, his spirit found a -momentary sunshine in the memories of ancient lore. - -He stood and gazed, then, with his arms folded on his chest, while the -people walking to and fro passed and repassed him, and many a one -commented as they went, and assigned him a history and a character -from their own imagination. How seldom is it, in the busy world with -which we mingle, that any of the conjectures regarding our thoughts, -our feelings, our state of existence, are correct! How rarely, from -any of the indications that man's external demeanour affords to -society, can one single trait of the heart's countenance be divined! -Alas, dear reader, that it should be so! but to one another we all -wear a mask. - -One man, as he passed by Morley Ernstein, and saw the traces of care -and thought on his countenance, settled it at once that he was some -young prodigal flying from his creditors--a very natural supposition -in the town of Calais or Boulogne. Another, moralizing with a friend -who walked beside him, declared, from his youth, his gloomy look, and -his distinguished attire, that he must have killed his best friend in -a duel, or committed some of those other dark crimes which society -never punishes, but conscience, sooner or later, always does; another -set him down for an indifferent _milord:_ - - - "Parfait Anglais voyageant sans dessein, - Achetant cher de modernes antiques, - Regardant tout avec un air hautain, - Et méprisant les saints et leurs reliques." - - -But at that moment there was one near him who knew better; and while -Morley continued to gaze at the bust of Richelieu, careless altogether -of what any one thought of him--shut up, in short, like the lady of -the Arabian giant, in a glass-case of his own sensations and thoughts, -through which he could be seen, but could not be approached--he was -suddenly roused by hearing his name pronounced, and, turning round, -saw a countenance not less striking than that of Richelieu himself, -nor, upon the whole, very different in character. - -The first impression was not pleasant, for the loneliness of heart -that he felt upon him, made him repugnant to all companionship. -Neither was the man he saw one in whom he was inclined to trust, or to -confide--one whose sympathies were with him, or upon whose counsel he -could rely; but yet, to say the truth, when he remembered the charm of -his conversation, the power that he seemed to possess of leading the -mind of others, with whom he held any communication, away from all -that was unpleasant or painful, to brighter objects and to calmer -thoughts, the first shrinking feeling of unwillingness passed away, -and he stretched out his hand frankly, exclaiming--"Lieberg! I little -dreamed of meeting you here." - -Now the reader may remark, with great justice--"What, then, Morley -Ernstein was by this time willing to seek entertainment!--If so, his -sorrow was on the wane." He may likewise observe, that after all the -acts and deeds committed by the worthy gentleman who now stood before -him, it would surely have been more characteristic of Morley Ernstein -to turn his back than to hold out his hand. True, O courteous -reader!--true, in both cases--with the qualification of a "_but_." Did -you ever happen to take, under the influence of any of the many ills -that flesh is heir to, a dose which seemed somewhat bitter at first, -but which produced great relief to the sick heart, or the aching head? -If you have, you will know that though you might nauseate the remedy -at first, you sought it eagerly again as soon as you had experienced -the benefit thereof. Now Morley Ernstein was exactly in that -situation. Under the first pressure of grief, he had turned from the -very thought of amusement with disgust; but in mere occupation he had -found a mitigation of pain; and while gazing at the bust of that great -and terrible man, and suffering his mind to run over the scenes of the -past, he had felt an interval of tranquillity which he had not known -for many a-day. Conscious therefore that in Lieberg's society he would -find more of the same kind of relief than in that perhaps of any other -man living, he was not unwilling to take the same medicine for his -wound again, although there might be still a degree of repugnance -lingering at his heart. In regard to the second point, let it be -recollected, dear reader, that although our good friend, Count -Lieberg, had done everything on earth which Morley Ernstein would have -looked upon as base and villanous, had he been aware of the facts, not -one particular of all those transactions with which the reader is -fully acquainted had been made known to him either by Helen or Juliet; -and he was utterly ignorant of the whole. He looked upon Lieberg -merely as a man of the world, with better feelings than principles; -for although Morley was somewhat philosophically disposed by nature, -he wanted totally that experience which, in the end, convinces us that -the separation between good principles and good feelings is much more -rare than youth and passion are willing to admit. - -Principle may be one check upon a man, good feeling another; the man -who has both is sure to go right, but the man who has either will not -go far astray, and in this case too you may know the tree by its -fruits. Of Lieberg's conduct to Helen Barham, of his conduct to her -brother, Morley was ignorant; and though at first, as I have said, he -felt but little disposed to like the society of any one, yet the -second impulse made him hold out his hand, and utter the words that I -have mentioned. - -"I as little thought to see you in Calais," said Lieberg, in reply; -"but I did trust to overtake you in Paris; for on my return to town, I -heard that you had suddenly quitted England, that something had gone -wrong with you, and that you were about to make an autumnal wandering -in other lands." - -Lieberg paused, seeing that the allusion which he had made to the -cause of his companion's quitting England made Morley's brow knit -heavily, and his eyes seek the ground. "To say the truth," continued -Lieberg, "I am not in the best spirits myself, and I am somewhat -aweary of this working-day world. I tried all the various resources of -Great Britain for shaking off the dulness of this season of the -year--fired a gun or two upon the moors, spent a day at a fashionable -watering-place, and finding that everything was vanity and vexation of -spirit, set off, post haste, to overtake you in Paris, and see if you -would take a grumbling tour with me through foreign lands." - -The picture which he gave of his state of mind was adapted with -infinite art to the mood which his keen and penetrating eyes saw at -once was dominant with his companion. A faint, and, as it were, -unwilling smile, was Morley's only reply; but he passed his arm -through that of Lieberg, and as they turned back, towards the inn, the -latter proceeded--"We can go, you know, across from Paris to Cologne, -then ramble along the banks of the Rhine, make our way through the -Tyrol into Italy, spend the cold season at Rome or Naples, and then, -if you like it, '_mitescente hyeme_,' return to England. Or," he -continued, "if that suits you not, we can ramble still farther, plunge -into Calabria, visit the blue shores of Greece, see the fairy-tale -wonders of Constantinople, range through the scenes of the crusades in -Syria and Palestine, and scour on fleet horses the sandy deserts of -Egypt. Where need we stop, Morley? where need we stop? I have no tie -to one quarter of the globe--you have none either, that I know of; the -world is all before us, and the wonders, not only of a hundred -countries, but a hundred ages. Where shall we not find some astounding -record of the mighty past? Some of those marbles, which, in their -slowly perishing grandeur; teach us the littleness of all things -present, and, amongst the rest, of the cares and sorrows that we may -both be suffering? Of those cares and sorrows we will speak no more; I -ask you not what are yours--you question me not regarding mine. But -let us onward, onward together, through all the varied scenes of -earth, pausing no longer anywhere than while enjoyment is in its -freshness, taking the grape while the bloom is upon it, and the flower -before a leaf is shed. Once more, what say you?--shall it be so?" - -There was something in the tone in which he spoke, in the picture that -he presented, in the very rapid succession of objects which he -proposed, that seemed addressed with careful calculation to the weaker -part of Morley's character--to the rash, the impetuous, the -excitement-loving spirit, which had been long kept down by the -influence of the better soul within him. There was nothing in the -scheme against which that better soul could raise the warning voice; -there was no one thing suggested which could be branded with the name -of evil. It was like offering to an eager and a fiery horse a wide and -swift career, while, faint at the far extreme, appeared a goal hung -with prizes, which seemed to glitter, though dim and confused from the -distance at which they were placed. - -Morley hesitated not, but replied, his eyes for a moment lighting up -with the fire which used once to be kindled so readily in them--"I -will go willingly, Lieberg. It is, in fact, the scheme I had laid out -for myself, only improved and brightened by having you for my -companion. I have been ill since I have been here; but to-morrow they -assure me I shall be ready to continue my journey." - - - - -CHAPTER XLIII. - - -"Providence," says a powerful but dangerous author of another -land--"has placed Disgust at the door of all bad places." - -But, alas, she keeps herself behind the door as we go in, and it is -only when we come out that we meet her face to face! The road to evil -is undoubtedly a flowery path, smoothed down and softened with every -care, so that no obstruction, no difficulty, may retard our steps, or -keep us within the bounds of right. It is only when we would turn -again that we discover the thorns. - -Such may seem a strange homily wherewith to begin an account of the -journey of Morley Ernstein and Frederick, Count Lieberg. It is -nevertheless an undoubted fact, dear reader, that of all the many -persons well calculated to smooth that high road to vice, of which we -have just spoken, the young Baronet could have found none more -dangerous than the man who, placed side by side with him, commenced, -on the day following that with which we terminated our last chapter, a -tour through lands where temptation is cheap, example abundant, and -punishment rare--except, indeed, that silent punishment of the heart, -the sentence of God's own law, to which man has sometimes added -corporeal infliction, but from which he can never take away one fiery -drop. - -They sat side by side in Morley's carriage, turning over that of Count -Lieberg to servants and baggage; for, as we have seen, Morley had no -less than three men in his train--the courier, the groom, and good -Adam Gray--while Lieberg was armed with a courier and a valet, so that -they were plenty certainly to occupy both vehicles. The conversation -between the two travelling companions was, of course, modified by the -circumstances in which they were placed. It was no longer the wide, -discursive, rambling play of fancy which had characterized their -communications at an earlier period of their acquaintance, but it was -full of deeper thoughts and feelings. It was no longer the even flow -of a bright and sparkling rivulet, dancing rapidly on, uninterrupted -by any obstacle, glistening over the pebbles of its bed, and whirling -in murmuring eddies from the banks; but it was the mountain-torrent, -amongst rocks and precipices, now pausing in deep silent pools, now -dashing through stones and crags, and now plunging, in an eager -cataract, over the edge of the precipitous cliff. - -It might be that Lieberg's mind had itself taken a different mood from -the various scenes through which he had lately gone, from the violent -passions which had actuated him, from the bitter disappointment of -pride, and vanity, and love. Or was it that he purposely gave to all -he said that tone which made it harmonize with the mood and temper of -his companion at that moment? Who shall say which? Certain it is, -however, that he, as usual, led the conversation, and led it in that -exact strain which bore the mind of Morley Ernstein along with him. He -suffered the pauses that took place to be long; he forced not his -fellow-traveller to speak; he meditated, as well as Morley, and only -roused himself from his silence to cast forth some fierce and flashing -sarcasm at the world and all that it contains, or to utter some deep -and stern comment upon human happiness or human efforts. It was like -the stillness of the storm's approach broken by the flash of the -thunder. Then, if he found his companion so disposed, he would go on -in a rambling and meditative manner, with a dark gloom pervading all -he said, like the shadow of the cloud, remaining even when the voice -of the tempest is still. - -"Do you see that mother nursing her child, Morley?" he said, after a -pause, as they drove through one of those small, miserable villages, -to be found so frequently upon the road from Calais to Paris--"do you -see yon mother nursing her child? Is it not a pretty sight?" - -"I think it is," replied Morley, somewhat surprised at the sneering -turn of the lip that accompanied his words. - -"Ay," continued Lieberg, "it is indeed a sweet sight to see the sowing -of hopes that go on from blight to blight, till all are blasted to the -very root. For what is she nursing it, Morley? For sickness, and -sorrow, and disappointment; for anguish of body and of mind; to find -virtue become a curse, or pleasure alone in vice; for sin, crime, -misery, and death, the grave and corruption, and hell hereafter! It is -a sweet sight, indeed; and yet, if there be truth, either in Holy -Writ, or in worldly experience, such is what we have just seen. The -child was a girl, was it not?" - -"I think so," replied Morley, gloomily. - -"Poor thing!" said Lieberg--"the more her misery. Men can find -pleasure, or, at all events, relief from their cares, if they are wise -enough to seek it. Women are altogether slaves--their minds to -prejudices, their bodies to passions or to follies. They are worse -than any other slaves, the slaves of two masters--of man, and of -vanity." - -Morley replied not, and the conversation dropped; but it is true, and -therefore must be admitted, that the tone assumed by his companion was -that which harmonized with the feelings in his own bosom, although he -might see in many cases the falseness of his arguments, and the -fallacy of all his deductions. Those feelings were of angry -discontent, and he would not take the trouble to refute Lieberg, even -where he perceived he was most wrong. It was like hearing a man who -has deeply injured us accused of faults that he has not committed--too -often do we listen, and internally dissent, but are silent, and -perhaps are pleased. - -After a pause of some minutes, Lieberg took up the same topic again, -pointing out how superior was the situation of man to woman; but still -the theme was, that man could drown every sorrow and every care by -varying excitements. It was too pleasant a doctrine for Morley, in his -state of mind at the time, willingly to resist, and he yielded -gradually to the belief that the only course for him to pursue was, to -drown the memory of Juliet Carr by anything that could occupy or -interest him. He proposed to himself innocent objects, it is true; but -where is the man who can gallop his horse headlong at a fence, and say -that he will not leap it? - -The first day's journey passed in such conversation as we have -described, and the carriages paused at Beauvais, for the night. It was -yet light; and to while away an hour ere dinner was ready, Morley -Ernstein, without giving any notice to Lieberg, who had gone to -another room, strolled out to the fine old cathedral, and entered -those doors which, in Roman-catholic countries, are never shut against -the worshipper. - -He gazed up towards the high transept, the magnificent proportions of -which must ever bow the heart to religious feelings, first calling to -taste, and taste leading on imagination, and imagination bringing a -thousand devout images in her train, as is always the case when -appealed to by anything grand and solemn. There is something, also, in -the architecture of Gothic churches, which has certainly a more -devotional effect than the light and graceful buildings of the Greeks. -There are near relationships between all grand sensations. Awe is the -sister of Devotion; and I believe that feelings truly sublime can -never be awakened in the human heart without ideas of religion rising -up with them. Man often becomes sensible of his littleness in the -midst of the works of his own hands; the eye runs up the tall column, -till it loses the tracery of the capital in the airy gloom above; he -stands at the foot of it as an insect, and thinks of the God for whose -worship that structure was raised, and to whom it is less than the -ant-hill on which we set our unconscious feet. - -Morley Ernstein felt the influence of the place. The shady hour; the -solemn arches; the sober hue of the building; the solitary lamp at a -shrine on the other side; the kneeling figure of a woman, half -hidden in the gloom; a receding step, that echoed along the vacant -vault;--all made him feel inclined to stay and meditate; and the -better spirit seemed to think her hour was come again, and lifted her -voice to take the bitterness from his wounded heart. It was in vain, -however, for the fiend was near him, and ere Morley had reached the -end of the choir, Lieberg was by him, and his hand upon his arm. - -How was it that he whiled Morley away from those contemplations, which -were likely to lead him to higher and holier feelings than those which -his counsels could inspire? It was by no light laugh--it was by no, -bitter sneer--it was by none of those means which he might have -employed at another time. He knew that there was a spirit dwelt in the -air of that place which would not suffer any method of the kind to -succeed. He called Morley's attention, then, to the beauties of the -building, he descanted upon columns and arches with the most refined -and delicate taste, he destroyed the grand effect of the whole by -engaging his companion's fancy in the examination of details, and, -drawing him out of the church, after having taken a turn round it, he -pointed to some of the grotesque ornaments, the grinning heads, and -monstrous forms which found place in the architecture of that day, and -then, and not till then, he ventured upon a sneer. - -"See, Morley," he said, "how these people think fit to decorate the -temples of their God, with heads of devils and serpents! Thus is it -with us all, I fear; and if we were to look to the temple which we -raise to God in our own hearts, we should find it as full of grinning -fooleries as the outside of a French cathedral. The very image that we -draw of him, nine times out of ten, if we could embody it, would be no -better than the great idol of Juggernaut; and, alas! like that idol, -we often make it, in bloody triumph, roll over a crowd of human -things, crushing all sweet affections, and joys, and happiness, -beneath the wheels of one superstition or another. Is it more -drivelling or more foolish to ornament a temple like that with toads, -and bats, and dragons of stone, than to suppose that the God who made -us and gave us powers of enjoyment, should quarrel with us for using -those powers, or tasting pleasure wherever we find it?" - -"It must depend upon the kind of pleasure, Lieberg," replied Morley, -somewhat sharply. "God will never quarrel with us, I am sure, for that -which neither injures ourselves, nor other individuals, nor society in -general--which neither degrades the spirit that he has given us, nor -takes away from the glory of the giver. But it is a wide subject, -Lieberg, which I will not discuss with you in my present mood; one -thing, however, is very certain, that man's foolish imaginations can -no more alter the nature of God, than those foolish ornaments can -affect the prayers that are offered in sincerity beneath those walls. -He has told us what he is, and with that we must rest satisfied." - -Lieberg made no farther reply, for he was well aware, that one evil -thought, that one dark doubt in regard to right and wrong, once -implanted in the human mind, remains for its time buried in silence -and apparent forgetfulness, till the summer day of temptation causes -it to germinate and produce the richest harvest which a tempter can -desire. He left the subject, therefore, were it was, and the following -morning the two companions proceeded on their way towards the French -metropolis. - -They stayed not long in that capital, nor shall I pause upon all the -events that occurred there. Lieberg took care that Morley should not -want temptation, and it was not by any ordinary means that he -stimulated him to yield to it. He urged him not, he argued not with -him in order to induce him to plunge into the ordinary dissipations of -youth, but he proceeded by the sap and mine: every word, every tone, -and every look being directed to show without an effort--to impress -upon the mind of his companion as a self-evident truth, that a greater -or a less degree of vice was an inevitable necessity, an incident in -the life of every young man, without which, youth never reached -manhood. He took it for granted--or, at least, he seemed to do -so--that Morley's views on those subjects must be the same as his -own--nay, that he must be already in some degree dipped in the stream, -which is certainly neither that of immortality nor oblivion; and he -more than once thought fit to suppose that his young companion went -hither, or went thither with views which never entered into his head. -At the same time, as his acquaintance was very extensive in Paris, he -contrived that his fellow-traveller should be cast, whether he liked -it or not, into such society as he thought fit. - -Tools for any work are never wanting in Paris; a thousand accidents -brought about a meeting between Morley and this fair lady, or that -beautiful girl; and amidst the bright, the gay, and the fascinating, -there were many willing and well-skilled to lead youth upon the -flowery path of passion. A moment of strong temptation came, working -itself up by various accidents like clouds gathering together for a -storm. Lieberg watched it coming, and chose the precise moment when -the whole fabric of Morley's good feelings and good principles -tottered, for the purpose of making a great effort to overthrow them -altogether; but he strove for it, not as other men would have striven. - -It was a sombre evening, the moment of danger he knew was to be -towards nine o'clock that night, and Lieberg sought not to make his -companion pass the hours in any occupation which might banish thought -and reflection; on the contrary, it seemed as if a deep and heavy -gloom had fallen upon himself; his conversation was of the darkest and -desponding character; and, as they sat alone together, he skilfully -called up every idea that might pile such a load upon Morley's heart -and mind, as would impel him to anything in order to cast it off. - -"Such evenings as this make me sad," he said, with his dark, bright -eyes resting mournfully upon the young Englishman. "Autumn, indeed, is -always to me a time of darkness. It is the death-bed of the year, and -still, when I think how many pleasures have slipped by us -untasted--how few will ever return again,--when I think of the -emptiness of many things that I have sought and cared about, I feel a -cloud come over my spirit that I would give worlds to disperse! What a -difference, Morley," he continued, looking out of the window--"what a -difference between this evening and that on which I some time ago met -you in the park, with a beautiful girl hanging on your arm, and -looking as if she loved you!" - -Morley shrunk as if he had been rending open his heart, and bent down -his eyes upon the table, but Lieberg went on--"I, too, was happier -then," he continued; "but those dreams fade, and I do believe, after -all, that with women, the virtue and the high principle which we -admire is but coldness of nature. They will be to all appearance as -fond, as attached, as devoted, as may be, but put some small -stumbling-block in their way, and we shall find that they will whirl -all our happiness to the wind without a hesitation or a care." - -Morley stretched out his hand to the Burgundy that stood by with a -sort of convulsive grasp, filled the tumbler to the brim, and drank it -off without a pause. - -"Give me the woman of passion," continued Lieberg--"she who yields to -the impetuous torrent of her love without fears of the consequences or -thoughts of the future--a thousand to one she betrays me, it is true, -but still she is mine while I possess her, and she can never inflict -upon me the pang of the cold-hearted, virtuous coquette, who raises -love almost to a pitch of agony, and then disappoints it with an agony -more terrible, verifying the Icelandic fable of the damned, whose -torture is, to be first burned in the heart of Hecla, and then plunged -into its eternal snows. There have been periods in my life, Morley, -when I have felt more bitterly than you know of; and it is ever in -such dull times as this that the memory of all which is sad and dark -in the past comes upon me. I wish the Salon was opened; I think I -could go and stake my last louis, to see if, by the gambler's feverish -joy, I could cast off this oppressive weight upon my breast. Give me -the wine, Morley, and let us have the windows closed--I love not the -world nor anything in it!" - -Thus went he on for some time in a tone of dark despondency, which -made the moral poison that mingled with all he said ten times more -potent and dangerous than when it came diluted with gayer things. Had -he presented to Morley's mind the memory of Juliet Carr in all her -purity and goodness, he would have called up a warning angel rather -than a fiend; but it was the memory of sorrows alone that he recalled, -of that anguish of mind which--as corporeal pain will sometimes drive -the wretch, in a moment of madness, to fly to deadly poison for the -repose of death--will often urge on the spirit to a thousand harmful -things, even for a moment's relief. - -As he proceeded, the load seemed to lie more and more heavy upon -Morley's heart. At first it bore him down, and seemed to overpower -him, but gradually he rose to struggle against it; the wine seemed to -strengthen him; he took another and another draught, but then he -paused, saying, he would drink no more: Already, however, it had -produced some effect, not in intoxicating, not in clouding his senses, -but in sending that fire through the veins which none but the -Burgundian grape can produce. He became impatient of Lieberg's gloomy -tone--he was glad when the clock struck nine. - -"Ha! there is the hour," cried Lieberg. "Now will you come to the -Salon, Morley? We shall find some excitement, at least, in those -mischievous pieces of pasteboard." - -"No," answered Morley, "I have an engagement to-night; my carriage -must be by this time in the court;" and hurrying away to escape -further question, the sound of wheels were heard the moment after. - -A dark smile came upon Lieberg's countenance. He, too, went forth, but -he was not absent more than an hour; and then, speaking a word to his -valet as he passed, he walked into the sitting-room, and sat down to -read. It was past one o'clock when the valet entered, suddenly -saying--"That is his carriage now, sir." - -Lieberg went out into the corridor, and passed Morley Ernstein, as, -with a slow step, the young Englishman mounted the stairs. He gave him -but a word of salutation, and hurried on; but Lieberg marked the -haggard eye and the flushed cheek, and, entering his own bed-room, he -stood silent for a moment in the midst of the floor, with a look of -fierce triumph. It was as if he had won a great victory. - -But there must have been a motive for all this. There was, and his -words showed it: "He has fallen!" he cried--"he has fallen! The first -plunge is taken! Who shall stop him now?--Neither Heaven nor hell. He -shall go on--he shall go on! and ere many a year, I will show her this -god of her idolatry as low and empty a licentious debauchee as any -that crawls through opera saloons, or spends his days and nights -between the gaming table and the brothel!" - - - - -CHAPTER XLIV. - - -At breakfast the following morning, the two travelling companions met -again, and by that time a great change had come over the aspect of -Morley Ernstein. A change in a very small particular, but one so -remarkable that it instantly struck the eyes of Lieberg, surprised and -puzzled him. Morley was grave--perhaps one might say, sad--but there -was a calm, a tranquillity in his grief which had not appeared in his -demeanour since his parting with Juliet Carr. There seemed none of -that bitterness, that struggling against the hand of fate which had -before characterized his sorrow: he was sad, as we have said, but he -was no longer moody, indignant, and discontented. - -Although, alas! we have no window through which to look into the -breast of man, and see the springs and wheels of thought and action as -they work, yet imagination may pry into the motives, and, perhaps, -obtain some insight. It is but supposition, reader, yet we will try to -show the causes of the change in Morley Ernstein. Previous to this -period, the share of pride, which is in every human heart, had fixed -itself upon his high and steadfast adherence to right; there had been -in his bosom, in short, a sense of deserving; and a feeling of -ill-treatment and angry repugnance to submit to the will of God had -risen up when the first touch of sorrow lighted on him. He seemed to -think that he had a right to happiness, and that to make him take his -part in human griefs was an injustice. - -Of course it must not be supposed that he acknowledged such sensations -to his own mind; I paint them in the broad light as I believe they -stood, without the veils with which the deceitfulness of man's heart -covered them to Morley's own eyes. Had he analyzed his feelings, in -truth he would have discovered that--though he might have experienced -sorrow, deep poignant sorrow, at his disappointment under any -circumstances--the bitterer, the more fiery part of his grief would -have been absent, had he not set up a claim to deserving a better -fate. He had looked round, saying, as did the apostle, but with a -different feeling--"What man convinces me of sin?" - -Such had been his state up to the day before, and now the change which -had come over him was produced by self-abasement. He no longer stood -in the same proud position in his own eyes, he felt all his weakness, -all the weakness of human nature, and his spirit was bowed down in -humility before the will of God. He could no longer say--"I have -deserved;" and although his sadness was increased by knowing that he -had himself erred, yet it was a more wholesome grief than that which -he had before experienced, and bitter repentance opened his hearth, so -that resignation could take the place of despair. - -I have said that his demeanour puzzled Lieberg; he could not -comprehend the change that he saw in Morley Ernstein; but the truth -is, his own character was so different, that similar events would with -him have produced the reverse result. His spirit was one neither to -sorrow nor repent, and the consciousness of evil would but have made -him raise his head to meet the avenger; he might bow, indeed, under -the force of circumstances, but it was only for the purpose of an -after-struggle. He watched his companion attentively, then, but he -commented upon nothing that he saw; he took no note of their -conversation on the preceding evening, or of any events which might -have followed, but he began in a lighter, though not a gay tone, -asking Morley how he had slept, and adding--"What a stormy night it -has been." - -"Indeed!" replied Morley; "I did not hear it." - -"Innocence sleeps sound," said Lieberg, with a laugh-- - - - "'Virtue, without the doctor's aid, - In the soft arms of sleep was laid; - Whilst vice, within the guilty breast, - Could not be physick'd into rest.' - - -"Is it so, Morley? But after all, what conventional nonsense those -poets write! Well may it be said that they deal in fiction, and their -morality is not a bit more real than the rest. A pretty sort of -morality, truly, one finds in all these moral poets, and other -righteous personages; they think no more of manufacturing a falsehood -to serve the cause of truth, as they call it, than a poor, honest, -wicked man like myself thinks of drinking my cup of coffee. Now what a -gross lie it is--so gross, indeed, as to be quite impotent--to tell us -that virtue is happiness, and that innocence always sleeps -comfortably! For my part, everything that I see around me makes me -believe, that, in this world at least, virtue is more akin to misery -than to happiness; and how many pangs and sorrows are there that from -time to time disturb the repose of innocence, and break the rest of -the purest and the best!" - -"That is true," replied Morley, thoughtfully. "Griefs may often break -the sleep of innocence, but can vice ever repose, Lieberg? And as to -the happiness or unhappiness of the good and the bad, thank God there -is another world where things may be made even!" - -"Your English proverb says," rejoined Lieberg, "that 'a bird in the -hand is worth two in the bush.' I would rather take out my stock of -happiness here, my good friend." - -"I have been thinking much over that subject this very morning," -answered Morley, "and have made up my mind upon the matter, Lieberg." - -"And to what conclusion?" asked his companion. - -"That the balance even here is in favour of right," replied Morley. -"Supposing that there be an equal portion of misfortunes and -disappointments, successes and advantages, allotted to the virtuous -and the vicious--and there is nothing either in reason or experience -to show that the bad man is more favoured by fortune than the -good--the very nature of the virtuous man's own mind leaves his -pleasures not only more pure, but more poignant from the freshness of -his heart, while his sorrows are diminished by resignation to the will -of Him who sent them, and by those bright hopes which lighten half the -load of life." - -"I am glad to think that you have got up such a comfortable -philosophy," answered Lieberg, "for of late I have certainly seen that -you are very sad, Morley, and I have striven to the best of my power, -though somewhat vainly, to cheer you." - -"I thank you for it deeply," replied Morley, extending his hand, "and -I wish I had been wise enough to get up this philosophy, as you call -it, before. You would not have found it, then, so difficult to soothe -me, Lieberg." - -"It is an excellent good philosophy," answered his companion; "and the -only part of it with which I might be inclined to quarrel, my good -friend, is the actual estimation of what is right and what is wrong, -what is innocent and what is vicious. I do not take for granted the -dictum of every would-be philosopher--no, nor of every puritan--when -he tells me that a thing which makes me very happy, and does no harm -to anybody, is a vice or a wickedness;--but there is no use of -talking any more about it. Ethics are a very uncertain science; -what's excessively wicked in one country is highly virtuous in -another--polygamy is an honoured observance in Turkey. Dwindle it down -to bigamy in England, and it becomes a great crime, for which you send -the poor wretch to hard labour in a penal colony, as if the fool's act -would not be punishment enough if we did but compel him to abide by -the consequences, and live with the two wives at once." - -Lieberg laughed aloud, half drowning Morley's reply--"The Christian -has always a standard of morality, Lieberg." - -The former, however, wished to pursue the subject no more, for he was -satisfied with the advantages he had gained, and was well inclined to -leave the boundaries of vice and virtue vague and undefined. - -He therefore turned the matter off with a jest, and as their breakfast -concluded, demanded--"Well, Morley, what shall we do to-day?" - -"For my part," answered Morley, "I shall quit Paris this very day, but -I do not wish to influence your conduct, Lieberg, as you many have -affairs to keep you here somewhat longer. I wish to be away from the -place, and will wait for you anywhere that you like, till you rejoin -me." - -Lieberg's eyes flashed with an angry expression for a moment, when -Morley talked of leaving the French capital so suddenly; but the -latter part of his companion's speech cleared his brow again, and he -replied--"Nay, nay, I will go with you. I have nothing to do here, -unless it were to take leave of some of the fair girls we know; but as -you are in such haste, we will do without even that. Doubtless, as the -poet says-- - - - 'Fresh freres will clear the bright blue eyes - We late left swimming o'er.'" - - -All the arrangements were soon made, passports were signed, bills were -paid, accounts were closed, horses were procured, and, ere night, -Morley Ernstein and his companion were some miles on their way towards -the banks of the Rhine. - -It was rather late in the year for the German watering places, and -about one half of the company which, during the summer, had thronged -the picturesque villages of Nassau and Baden had taken its flight -towards greater cities. A number still remained, however, to linger -out the last fortnight of the season, and roulette and rouge-et-noire, -and certain select gambling parties, went on with only the greater -vigour from the want of that excitement which the more extended -society of the full season brought with it. It is just at that time of -year that the arrival of strangers--especially if they come with some -little display of importance--creates the greatest sensation, and it -may be easily believed that the two handsome English carriages, the -servants and the couriers which accompanied Morley and his companion, -made many a head protrude itself from the windows, and many an idler -gather round the vehicles. The appearance of those within them did not -diminish the interest felt, and some questions were asked of the -servants as to the names of the two gentlemen, which soon circulated -amongst the inhabitants of the place. The dinner at the table-d'hôte -passed off pleasantly; Lieberg meeting with several persons whom he -knew, and Morley being placed next to a most respectable looking old -German Baroness, with her white hair beautifully arranged round her -fair though wrinkled face. Notwithstanding the melancholy which still -hung heavily upon Morley Ernstein, the frank and ladylike manner of -his fair neighbour at the board, soon seduced him into conversation, -which the society of the young and the beautiful, perhaps, might have -not been able to effect. - -In the evening, he strolled with Lieberg into the great hall where the -company had assembled, intending but to gaze for a moment at the -splendour which such a place generally displays, and then to wander -out into the walks round about which had been cut with careful taste -to give every attraction to the little town. Very different indeed was -the scene presented from that which he had often witnessed before in a -Parisian gaming-house. Roulette and rouge-et-noire, were, it is true, -going on in one part of the vast hall, and card-tables were to be seen -laid out in another; but besides the parties occupied with such -dangerous pursuits, there were various gay and glittering groups -moving here and there, or seated at various tables taking different -kinds of refreshment. A band was playing in the open space before the -manifold windows of the building, the night was clear and warm, for -the time of year, and everything that heart could do had been done to -render the scene splendid, and to banish thought by forcibly engaging -the mind with a whole host of amusements. - -Again Lieberg, as they moved onward, met with many acquaintances--some -of them foreigners, some of them Englishmen. Indeed, in every place, -and amongst every nation, he seemed to have friends, and he took care -to introduce his young companion to all the most distinguished -personages present; princes, and counts, and barons without number, -and more than one noble lord whom Morley had often heard of as men of -high repute, but had never met with before. - -Not anxious for much society, Morley Ernstein, at length, disengaged -himself from Lieberg, telling him that he was about to stroll out -through the walks; but the moment after he was stopped by a -fine-looking elderly man, of a fresh and pleasing, though somewhat -melancholy countenance, who held out his hand to him as an old -acquaintance. After a moment's thought, Morley recollected the old -nobleman whom he had met in London, and to whom he had been introduced -at the house of Mr. Hamilton. Well pleased at what he remembered of -their conversation on those occasions, he returned his greeting -warmly, and willingly sat down beside him for a few moments in one of -the windows. - -"I hope you are not in search of health, Sir Morley," said Lord -Clavering. "You do not look so well as when I met you in London." - -"Oh, no!" answered Morley; "my health is good; but I am seeking what -most people seek, after they have found the uselessness of seeking -happiness--I mean amusement. But I trust your lordship is not less -fortunate in point of health, though I am afraid, from your asking me, -that you yourself have been driven to these baths by some of the -unpleasant ills of the flesh." - -"Not exactly so," replied the old nobleman, "though I always think -that mineral waters are medicines with which nature herself furnishes -us for almost all diseases, if we do but apply them rightly. It is now -many years ago since I myself received great benefit from these -waters. I had just suffered a deep and terrible affliction which, -through the mind, had preyed upon my constitution, and no one expected -that I should ever recover. I was then a younger son, seeing life, as -it is called, in the Austrian service. I accordingly threw up my -commission, and was returning home to die in England, little cared -for by anybody, and, to say the truth, caring little for anybody -myself--except, indeed, one who has also been snatched from me since, -by the inexplicable decrees of God. I paused, however, at this very -place; and though at that time I thought life a very valueless -possession, and was prepared, like Cawdor, 'To throw away the dearest -thing I owed, as 'twere a careless trifle,' I remained here for six -weeks, and by so doing recovered health and life." - -"And have you never had to curse the waters since?" asked Morley, -gloomily, "and to wish that you had not tasted them?" - -"No, my young friend," replied the old lord; "though I thought at that -time, as you seem to think now; yet I have since had to bless them for -affording me time to judge better of many things, and to learn -submission to the will of the Almighty--nay more, for having left me -to the enjoyment of many blessings, the calm sunshine of health and -ease, and that degree of freshness of heart--notwithstanding some -bitter sorrows and deep disappointments--which enables me still to -feel many endearing affections, partaking, perhaps, less of the eager -passions which are the portion of youth, but more of the permanent -convictions of experience. I can now love worth," he continued, with a -smile, "better than beauty, and seek in the companion of my later -hours the friend rather than the mistress." - -"I have been wrong, my lord," said Morley, "and gave way to a -bitterness of spirit which I do not wish in general to indulge----" - -At that moment Lieberg came up hastily, and spoke to his young -companion in a low voice, saying--"Will you do me a favour, Morley? I -know you hate play of all kinds, but I know also you do not care about -losing a crown or two. The old Baroness Von L----, next whom you sat -at dinner, is very anxious for a quotidian game of whist. She has -pressed me into the service, and there is the old Prince of -Naggerstein, but we cannot get a fourth, all we can do. Come, only sit -down for one rubber. I hate that dull drivelling game as much as -anybody, but I could not well refuse." - -Morley rose and walked slowly to the table, feeling that it was -utterly impossible he could take the slightest interest in any one of -all the gambler's pursuits. In his eyes, rouge-et-noir was as stupid -as whist, and whist as stupid as draughts. Of all the games that were -ever invented, if he had been forced to choose one, it would probably -have been marbles. He sat down to play, however: the old lady was -charmed with his politeness; the Prince of Naggerstein was courtesy -itself. Morley soon found that the stakes were enormously high, and -that the two old opponents of Lieberg and himself were a couple of -thorough-paced gamblers. Lieberg seemed to discover the fact at the -same moment, and gave a warning look across the table towards Morley. -He himself played well and carefully, but during the first rubber the -young Englishman could not bend his attention sufficiently on the -game, made several mistakes, and the two companions were losers of a -very considerable sum. - -"For Heaven's sake, Morley, be careful!" said Lieberg. "You have lost -me five hundred louis by not playing up to my lead. We must have our -revenge, however, for it is impossible to rise with such a loss as -that. I understand the old lady's game now; only be careful, and we -shall recover." - -In the evening, he strolled with Lieberg into the great hall where the -company had assembled, intending but to gaze for a moment at the -splendour which such a place generally displays, and then to wander -out into the walks round about, which had been cut with careful taste -to give every attraction to the little town. Very different indeed was -the scene presented from that which he had often witnessed before in a -Parisian gaming-house. Roulette and rouge-et-noir, were, it is true, -going on in one part of the vast hall, and card-tables were to be seen -laid out in another; but besides the parties occupied with such -dangerous pursuits, there were various gay and glittering groups -moving here and there, or seated at various tables taking different -kinds of refreshment. A band was playing in the open space before the -manifold windows of the building, the night was clear and warm, for -the time of year, and everything that heart could do had been done to -render the scene splendid, and to banish thought by forcibly engaging -the mind with a whole host of amusements. - -Again Lieberg, as they moved onward, met with many acquaintances--some -of them foreigners, some of them Englishmen. Indeed, in every place, -and amongst every nation, he seemed to have friends, and he took care -to introduce his young companion to all the most distinguished -personages present; princes, and counts, and barons without number, -and more than one noble lord whom Morley had often heard of as men of -high repute, but had never met with before. - -Not anxious for much society, Morley Ernstein, at length, disengaged -himself from Lieberg, telling him that he was about to stroll out -through the walks; but the moment after he was stopped by a -fine-looking elderly man, of a fresh and pleasing, though somewhat -melancholy countenance, who held out his hand to him as an old -acquaintance. After a moment's thought, Morley recollected the old -nobleman whom he had met in London, and to whom he had been introduced -at the house of Mr. Hamilton. Well pleased at what he remembered of -their conversation on those occasions, he returned his greeting -warmly, and willingly sat down beside him for a few moments in one of -the windows. - -"I hope you are not in search of health, Sir Morley," said Lord -Clavering. "You do not look so well as when I met you in London." - -"Oh, no!" answered Morley; "my health is good; but I am seeking what -most people seek, after they have found the uselessness of seeking -happiness--I mean amusement. But I trust your lordship is not less -fortunate in point of health, though I am afraid, from your asking me, -that you yourself have been driven to these baths by some of the -unpleasant ills of the flesh." - -"Not exactly so," replied the old nobleman, "though I always think -that mineral waters are medicines with which nature herself furnishes -us for almost all diseases, if we do but apply them rightly. It is now -many years ago since I myself received great benefit from these -waters. I had just suffered a deep and terrible affliction which, -through the mind, had preyed upon my constitution, and no one expected -that I should ever recover. I was then a younger son, seeing life, as -it is called, in the Austrian service. I accordingly threw up my -commission, and was returning home to die in England, little cared for -by anybody, and, to say the truth, caring little for anybody myself? -except, indeed, one who has also been snatched from me since, by the -inexplicable decrees of God. I paused, however, at this very place; -and though at that time I thought life a very valueless possession, -and was prepared, like Cawdor, 'To throw away the dearest thing I -owed, as 'twere a careless trifle,' I remained here for six weeks, and -by so doing recovered health and life." - -"And have you never had to curse the waters since?" asked Morley, -gloomily, "and to wish that you had not tasted them?" - -"No, my young friend," replied the old lord; "though I thought at -that time, as you seem to think now; yet I have since had to bless -them for affording me time to judge better of many things, and to -learn submission to the will of the Almighty--nay more, for having left -me to the enjoyment of many blessings, the calm sunshine of health and -ease, and that degree of freshness of heart? notwithstanding some -bitter sorrows and deep disappointments? which enables me still to -feel many endearing affections, partaking, perhaps, less of the eager -passions which are the portion of youth, but more of the permanent -convictions of experience. I can now love worth," he continued, with a -smile, "better than beauty, and seek in the companion of my later -hours the friend rather than the mistress." - -"I have been wrong, my lord," said Morley, "and gave way to a -bitterness of spirit which I do not wish in general to indulge----" - -At that moment Lieberg came up hastily, and spoke to his young -companion in a low voice, saying--"Will you do me a favour, Morley? I -know you hate play of all kinds, but I know also you do not care about -losing a crown or two. The old Baroness Von L----, next whom you sat -at dinner, is very anxious for a quotidian game of whist. She has -pressed me into the service, and there is the old Prince of -Naggerstein, but we cannot get a fourth, all we can do. Come, only -sit down for one rubber. I hate that dull drivelling game as much as -anybody, but I could not well refuse." - -Morley rose and walked slowly to the table, feeling that it was -utterly impossible he could take the slightest interest in any one of -all the gambler's pursuits. In his eyes, rouge-et-noir was as stupid -as whist, and whist as stupid as draughts. Of all the games that were -ever invented, if he had been forced to choose one, it would probably -have been marbles. He sat down to play, however: the old lady was -charmed with his politeness; the Prince of Naggerstein was courtesy -itself. Morley soon found that the stakes were enormously high, and -that the two old opponents of Lieberg and himself were a couple of -thorough-paced gamblers. Lieberg seemed to discover the fact at the -same moment, and gave a warning look across the table towards Morley. -He himself played well and carefully, but during the first rubber the -young Englishman could not bend his attention sufficiently on the -game, made several mistakes, and the two companions were losers of a -very considerable sum. - -"For Heaven's sake, Morley, be careful?" said Lieberg. "You have lost -me five hundred louis by not playing up to my lead. We must have our -revenge, however, for it is impossible to rise with such a loss as -that. I understand the old lady's game now; only be careful, and we -shall recover." - -He spoke in English, which language the other two did not understand, -and Morley, vexed with himself, continued at the table. He did now -pay attention--nay, more, he became interested, eager. The dark bright -eyes of Lieberg were fixed upon him sharply from the other side of the -table, and Morley fancied that he read in them anxiety to see what he -was about to play. It was, on the contrary, only to mark how far the -gambling spirit of the place was getting a hold upon his mind. The -scheme had been well arranged, and it was so far successful, that Morley -felt that dangerous degree of excitement which he had never experienced -before, the first symptoms of the growing disease--of that fell and -terrible disease, which, when once it has taken full possession of any -human being, never leaves him till it has destroyed him--the immedicable -fever of the mind. - -Once he raised his eyes from the table, and saw Lord Clavering standing -opposite to him with a look of melancholy interest in his face. Morley -averted his glance, and went on eagerly with the game, the impetuosity -of his nature affecting him in this, as in all other pursuits, and -carrying him on with a vehemence which he wished to restrain without -being able. As his mind was clear and rapid, and his memory good, he -played well now that he paid attention; Lieberg also managed his game -with admirable skill, leading Morley on almost to the very last with the -expectation of winning. - -The end of the rubber was again approaching; Morley Ernstein had -played, the Prince of Naggerstein had just made a trick; the result of -the whole depended upon Lieberg's next card, and while he paused, as -if in thought, Morley again lifted his eyes. Lord Clavering was still -there, but another figure now stood beside him which made the young -Englishman turn, for a moment, as pale as death. The next instant the -blood rushed from his heart into his face and temples, he saw and -understood nothing more of what had passed at the card-table, except -that Lieberg had played, and that the game was lost. - -Rapidly paying what the other party had won, Morley turned away, saying, -in a determined tone, that he would play no more. Lieberg marked the -look, and said, in a low voice to himself, "The time will come!" But the -next instant, following Morley with his eyes, he saw him standing -beside one of the most lovely creatures he had ever beheld, with a -degree of agitation in the manner of both, which not even all the -crowd that was around them could repress. The lady was dressed in deep -mourning, but Lieberg had no difficulty in recognising the same fair -being whom he had once seen with Morley in the park, and with Lady -Malcolm upon another occasion. - -What were the sensations of Morley, as he stood beside Juliet Carr, -and, with a low voice and beating heart, enquired into what had passed -since he left her! Juliet was not less agitated than himself. It was -evident that she was glad, not sorry to see him, though melancholy -mingled with her joy, and she left the soft, fair, trembling hand in -his as long as he thought fit to detain it. She told him that the -cause of the mourning which he beheld was the death of her father, and -those tidings, it must be owned, produced but one sensation in -Morley's heart. He had respect for Juliet's grief, however, and for a -moment or two bent down his eyes for fear glad hopes should sparkle up -in them, and jar with her natural sorrow. In the brief pause that took -place, Lord Clavering, who had stood by with Juliet's arm resting in -his, watching with no slight interest, apparently, the agitation of -his fair companion and her lover, disengaged himself from her, -saying--"I will see if the carriage is there, Juliet. Sir Morley, will -you take care of this lady till I return; I will not be long." - -"Oh, Morley," said Juliet, the moment he was gone, "I have one great -favour to ask of you--a favour that will make me as happy as anything -can!" - -"Name it, Juliet," replied Morley; "are you not sure that, to make you -happy I would sacrifice life itself?" - -"Never sit down again to a table like that, Morley," said Juliet. "You -know not the agony of watching one that we love with a countenance -full of passions which only the dark spirits of this place can impart. -Promise me, Morley--promise me, if you have ever loved me. You cannot -tell what I have suffered within the last five minutes." - -"I do promise you, Juliet," replied Morley; "but you know not what I -have suffered during many weeks. I told you, Juliet, that I could not -answer for what occupations I might seek, in order to cast off the -misery which your loss inflicted on me." - -"That which is wrong," replied Juliet, "depend upon it can but add -gall to the well of bitterness. Oh, Morley, for my sake--for Juliet's -sake--strive for better consolations. To know that you are happy, were -the only happiness that I could now possess; and I am sure that such a -heart as yours can never find anything but wretchedness in vice." - -"I will trust," said Morley, "that the state of despair which might -well drive me to any source of relief is to last no longer. Where are -you to be found, Juliet? I will come early to-morrow; and you must -then give me up at least an hour--to myself and by myself, Juliet." - -She shook her head mournfully, but replied at once--"We are at the -place called the Towers. Come if you like, but it is all in vain. I -would fain be with you often, Morley--I would fain be with you always, -to advise--to counsel, to soothe you; but it must be as a sister. I -can never be more." - -"This must be explained," answered Morley; but at that moment Lord -Clavering again appeared, saying--"The carriage is here;" and at the -same time offering his hand to Juliet to lead her from the hall. - -Morley, however, would not give up his post till the last minute, and -he himself conducted Juliet to the side of the carriage. He waited -with a heavy heart and frowning brow, till the old nobleman, taking -his seat by Juliet in the vehicle, ordered the coachman to drive to -"The Towers." Then, after pausing moodily for a moment or two before -the door of the building, he looked up into the sky, and, with a deep -and long-drawn sigh, turned into the paths that wound away, through -the woods, up towards the summit of the hills. - - - - -CHAPTER XLV. - - -Night and meditation were friendly to Morley's spirit; he wandered on, -rising higher and higher as he advanced, over the busy world of -emptiness, of folly and vice that he had just left in the great hall. -The fresh breeze of the mountain played around his head, and quieted -the feverish throbbing of his temples. He looked up to the Heavens, -and saw star beyond star, till the deep blue sky seemed, to his -intense gaze, to grow white with the multitude of brilliant orbs that -shone forth from the very bottom of the depth. Was it possible that he -could see that infinite immensity of worlds without thinking of God, -without wondering at the mightiness of his power, without asking -himself if his goodness or his strength could ever fail, and without -deriving thence powers of endurance--ay, and powers of resistance, -too--which no other philosophy could have afforded? - -The very sight of Juliet Carr, too--the very words that she had -uttered, though their import was sad, and though not a ray of hope -could be elicited from anything that she had said, woke the better -spirit in the bosom of her lover, and led his thoughts on to higher -and to holier things than those to which the earthly spirit would have -prompted him. - -He wandered on, thinking of endurance: for the first time since the -bitter disappointment that he had met with, the heavenly spirit in his -bosom seemed to have free sway, to clear away, as in days of yore, the -mists and shadows of earth from his eyes, to unveil the skeleton face -of earth's ordinary pleasures, and to show him the rankling corruption -of even the fairest forms of vice. - -"I will endure," he thought, "firmly, strongly, resolutely. I will -endure with resignation, with submission, with the courage of a man, -with the humility of a Christian. Juliet shall not grieve to see me -plunge into those things which my own heart condemns. I will learn, -once for all, whether there be any real and substantial obstacle -between us; and if my life must be passed in sorrow and regret, I will -not add remorse also to the burden." - -He had now climbed high up the side of the hill, with nothing but the -stars above him, and turning his eyes from them down upon the town -below, he beheld the place where he had so lately sat, with the lights -glittering from the manifold windows, and the music sighing faintly up -to his distant ear. The sight and the sounds only filled him with -disgust; and it was with regret that, after remaining for some time -longer upon the hill, he took his way back again to the busy haunts of -men. - -On arriving at the inn, and entering the rooms which had been assigned -to himself and Lieberg, he found considerable confusion and disarray. -The cause was soon explained to him, for the moment after he appeared, -his companion issued forth from the left-hand room, saying, with an -eager look--"What say you, Morley, to a journey by night? I have just -received intelligence which obliges me to set off for Munich -immediately--every hour is of consequence. Will you come?" - -Morley thought of Juliet Carr, and replied, that he was sorry that he -could not go--that it was impossible. Lieberg pressed him much, and -seemed mortified that he would not consent; but his friend explained -to him that he had made an engagement for the following morning which -he could not break; and it was at length arranged that they should -meet at Augsburg or Munich, Morley adding, with a faint light from -hope still shining in his bosom--"If nothing should occur on either -part to prevent it." - -In less than half-an-hour the wheels of Lieberg's carriage rolled -away, and Morley, finding that it was hopeless to attempt to sleep, -sat up and read for some hours. How few books are there, amongst all -the many that come from the hand of man, on which the mind can rest -when the heart is sad! How often is even the very best of human -productions taken up and laid down, looked at and cast away, as the -sad thoughts wander round the one painful subject to which they are -fixed, like an animal tethered in a field to one particular point, -which he may turn round and round in every direction, but from which -he can never break away. Many a book will amuse the couch of pain, -will draw away the mind from corporeal uneasiness, but the anguish of -the heart has a property in our thoughts that cannot be dissolved; and -if any work can call us from that anguish, even for a moment, its -chief characteristic must be goodness. Wit, and fancy, and imagination -jar sadly with the tones of sorrow, but high and pure philosophies -come as a balm to the wounds of the spirit. - -It was over some of the smaller poems of Milton that Morley paused; -and though he could not go on very connectedly, yet there was a depth -and a freshness in the whole as invigorating as the waters of a clear, -cool river to the limbs of one who has wandered far through a hot day. -His spirit seemed to plunge into that well of pure poetry, and rose up -refreshed. - -At length he retired to rest, and though he slept not for some hours, -yet his thoughts were calm. He determined that he would go early on -the following morning to see Juliet Carr--that he would not wait for -any formal time of visiting, although he saw that she was travelling -with a party consisting of persons whom he believed to be nearly -strangers to him; and he lay and revolved all that he would say and -all that he would do, with the usual vain calculation of man, who -never till the end of life learns to know that the very next minute is -not his own. Thus passed the first four hours of the night, and then -came a short period of repose, broken with thought running into -dreams, and then came deep and profound slumber. - -It seldom, if ever, happens that we can obtain sleep when we most -require it, but the unbidden guest visits us at the times when we wish -him most away. Morley Ernstein slept longer than he intended, but, -nevertheless, it was not late when he woke; his watch pointed to a -quarter to eight, and, starting up, he rang eagerly for his servant, -intending to proceed upon his errand at about half-past nine. There -was a note in the hands of old Adam Gray as he entered, and, as may be -easily imagined, it was with some emotion that Morley opened it when -he saw the hand writing of Juliet Carr; but that emotion was greatly -increased when he read the contents. - -"We go early," she said; "and though I will never refuse to see you -when you think fit to come, I am inclined to believe that it would be -better you should not come to-day at all. I could say nothing, Morley, -to console you. All that I could tell you would, perhaps, but make you -the more unhappy. For me the dream of life is over, and I feel from -what passed last night, that it agitates us both too much at present -to meet frequently. I will not say 'too much for me,' because I resign -myself entirely to my fate--it is fixed and determined--I hope -nothing, I fear nothing, I expect nothing. There is only one thing -that I pray for in this life, to know that you are happy, and never, -by any chance, to have cause to think otherwise of you than I have -always hitherto done. Such is my fate, Morley, and such must be the -fate of every woman situated as I am; but with a man it is very -different. Suffer the memory of these days to fade away--I do not say -forget me, for that I think you will never do; but remember me only as -one that is dead. Form other ties, open your heart to other -attachments, and believe me, that I shall experience the only -consolation that I can receive in knowing that your affection for me, -and the bitter disappointment that we have both undergone, has not -permanently affected the happiness, or in any degree changed the -nature of the man I love." - -"When did this come?" exclaimed Morley, in a tone that made the old -man start. - -"About an hour ago, sir," replied Adam Gray. "I knocked at your door, -but you were sound asleep." - -Morley cast down the paper, dressed himself as rapidly as possible, -and hurried out. - -There were two or three people lounging quietly at the door of the inn -called "The Towers," without any one of those signs and appearances -which indicate to the eye of the experienced traveller that a -departure is about to take place. There were no boxes in the passage, -nor leather cases, nor cloaks and shawls, nor portfolios and -drawing-books, the stray volume of a new romance, nor the couriers' -innumerable straps and buckles. There were two or three men with -whiskers, and one with mustachioes, and each bearing about him that -indescribable something which points out the travelling servant; but -they were all in a state of calm tranquillity; and Morley, by the -whole aspect of the place, became convinced he was not, as he had -feared, too late. He went into the house, then, and enquired of a -person whom he met, and whom, from certain signs and symptoms, albeit -as unlike an English innkeeper as possible, he took to be the master -of the hotel, where he should find Miss Carr? - -The man stared, and then replied, that there was no such person there. -Morley next asked for Lord Clavering, which name immediately brought -up a look of intelligence in the innkeeper's countenance; but the -answer that instantly followed, at once damped the young Englishman's -hopes. - -"Oh, they are gone--they are gone!" replied the man. "They have been -gone three quarters of an hour." - -"Who do you mean by they?" demanded Morley. - -"Why, the old 'milord', and the lady, and the beautiful young lady, -and all--maids and servants and couriers, and all," answered the host. - -"Are you sure they are the persons I mean?" said Morley with the last -faint hope struggling up. - -"I will shew you their names in the book," rejoined the innkeeper; -and, taking him into a small room at the side of the passage, he -opened a huge book before him, and pointed to a long string of names, -half way down the page. - -Morley read, but he soon saw enough, for there stood the words--"Lord -Clavering, Lady Malcolm, Juliet Carr." He turned away in, silence, -with his heart full of bitter thoughts, and, taking his way back to -the inn, he gave but one order--"Let everything be prepared for -departure." - -"Do you know, sir," said Adam Gray, after hesitating for a moment or -two--"do you know, sir, that Miss Juliet is here? I saw her maid this -morning, in the street, and I did fancy that note came from her--" - -Morley waved his hand impatiently, and the old man stopped. "She is -gone," replied Morley Ernstein; "do as I told you, Adam." - -"Will you not take breakfast, sir?" demanded the old servant, with a -wistful look in his master's face. - -"No, no!" answered Morley, impatiently; and Adam Gray quitted the -room. He paused musing at the door, however, laying his finger upon -his bald forehead, and muttering to himself-- - -"If I was sure it was she who is making him miserable--I would--that I -would! But she never seemed to have any pride in her. What right had -she, indeed? But I can't think it's her doing; she was always a good, -kind young lady, as ever lived, and I am sure I thought she was fond -enough of Master Morley, as well she might be. She wont find such -another match in a hurry. But I'll watch, and see; she may be playing -the fool after all, for there's no knowing about women--they are so -devilish uncertain." - -With this moral reflection old Adam Gray concluded his soliloquy, and -went to give the orders with which his master had entrusted him, in -regard to preparing for departure. Ere noon all was ready, and Morley, -alone in his carriage, with his arms folded on his chest, his brow -bent, and his hat pressed over his forehead, drove out of the little -town, while many a foreign idler of the baths stood gazing at him, -sneering at the gloomy aspect that they did not comprehend, and -pointing him out as the true personification of English spleen. - -Buried in the depth of his own thoughts, Morley cared little what -comments were made upon his appearance. The brief glimpse he had had -of Juliet Carr, the momentary revival of hope, had but plunged him -into deeper gloom now that it was gone, and for a time all the better -feelings which reflection had produced passed away, and left him as -bitter in spirit as ever. There was one strong, predominant -determination, however, in his mind, which was, to seek another -meeting with Juliet wherever she had gone; to induce her to give him -reasons for her conduct; to make her speak plainly why she debarred -him and herself of hope, why, if she loved him, as she did not deny -that she did, she made him miserable now that her father's death had -removed his opposition to their union. - -Such were the feelings with which he went on through the wild valleys -and deep ravines that led him back to the banks of the Rhine. This is -not the journal of a tourist, reader! but still I must pause, to say a -word or two upon the scenes through which Morley Ernstein now passed, -because those scenes were not without effect upon his mind. At first -the impression was imperceptible, but gradually it became more and -more strong, operating like some fine restorative balm, and producing -a slow but salutary effect, as he journeyed on. It is not through the -ear alone, nor by the written words addressed to the eye, neither by -the tale, nor the fable, nor the moral, that man's heart may receive -instruction, if he will but take it. There is not--I say again--there -is not a sight, there is not a sound, from the flower in the valley to -the cloud-covered peak of the mountain--from the song of the lark to -the thunder of the storm, which does not speak to the heart of man -sweet counsel, and wisdom without end; sinking softly, calmly, almost -imperceptibly, into the mind. - -The mere aspect of nature's ever-varying face must, if we will let it, -tranquillize the passions, harmonize all the jarring affections of our -nature, and with a solemn, and a soothing voice, proclaim to us the -love, and the wisdom of Him-- - - - "Who shapes our fate, rough-hew it how we will." - - -Such also was the effect upon Morley Ernstein, as he journeyed onward, -though it was produced very slowly. When he first raised his eyes, the -mouth of the valley through which his course had been directed was -just opening out upon the Rhine. High on either side rose grey ruins, -pinnacled upon the ancient mountain-tops, all that remained of the -feudal domination of the past; dark, and solemn, and sad, each itself -a legend, appealing more strongly to the imagination than any of those -with which tradition had ornamented the walls. Fancy might there range -at liberty, might people the deserted halls with life, might see fair -faces gazing from the casementless windows, might cover the winding -roads with the bands of horsemen, and might see the plundered -merchants, or the train of captives, borne up to the hold of the -lordly robbers who reigned in the towers above. The ruined church -called fancy to other creations--the bridal song, and gay procession, -the joyful birth of the young heir, the dark funeral of the departed -lord, and all the manifold acts to which the ceremonies of religion -lend their aid. - -It is true, the imagination of Morley Ernstein, occupied with one sad -subject, was not disposed to tear his mind away from the present; but, -still, as the eye rested upon this object or upon that, his thoughts -would stray for a moment to the scenes of the dim past; or, leaving -his own fate for an instant, would find a temporary occupation in that -of others. The merry vintage was going on; and on every bank, and on -every hill, thousands and thousands of the peasantry, rejoicing in the -reward of honest industry, poured forth their songs as he passed by. -While he gazed around, perhaps, he pictured to himself the return home -of the labourers he saw, the embrace of affection, the soft domestic -love, and all the household joys that were never to be his; but still -he was not so selfish that he could not bless God for the happiness of -others, though he himself could not partake of it. The better spirit, -reader, gained the ascendancy, and in deep and pensive thought, calm -though sad, he went upon his way. - -All those who have travelled along the banks of the Rhine--and few -there are who have not done so, now-a-days--know well, that though, -perhaps, the Rhone presents more picturesque beauties, there is -scarcely any spot on earth where, to loveliness of scenery, are joined -so many thrilling memories, and such a wide extent of associations. -Well might it be called the Storied Rhine; for there is not one step -along its banks which has not its history; and from the ages of the -Roman domination, down to the "Now," when the stranger stands beside -it, there is scarcely a year in the wide course of time, which has not -marked the Rhine by some great event. He, indeed, must have become -dead to life, or never have been alive to half the wonderful things -that life presents, who can wander by the side of that mighty river, -without giving himself up to dreams of the past--ay, and perchance of -the future. - -Morley Ernstein was neither; and though the tone of his own feelings, -of course, gave a colouring to all his thoughts, yet his meditations -on the things around him soon became deep and long, and in those -meditations he himself found relief. - -Thus passed the next four days, but, as he went from inn to inn, he -perseveringly strove to trace the road that Juliet Carr had taken. -Once only, however, he met with the name of Lord Clavering, with the -words, "and party," attached to it; and he knew not why, but a painful -feeling that Juliet Carr should be included in the party of another -passed across his mind. He strove to banish it instantly; he asked -himself, with a sort of scornful smile, if he were jealous of Lord -Clavering; but still the idea continued painful; and now, convinced -that Juliet had taken the same road which he was following, he simply -pointed out the name of the party to his courier, and directed him to -search for it in the inn-books, and let him know when he found it -again. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVI. - - -When the fall of Napoleon Buonaparte had opened the gates of Europe to -the little body of islanders who had been knocking at them for so many -years in vain, the first that rushed in to see all the wonders of the -great continental fair, were, of course, the great and the wealthy, -having every means at hand to satisfy to the full the expectant -innkeepers and postilions, who were well prepared to make the purses -of our good countrymen pay for the sights which and been so long -forbidden. But in the rear of these, only by a very short distance, -came a number of very respectable people of an inferior class, who -were firmly resolved to have their holiday also, and that it should be -spent on the Continent. The means of locomotion, indeed, were not so -plentiful then as now; no steam-boats bridged over the Straits of -Dover; no railroads saved one the trouble of seeing anything in Europe -without depriving one of the pleasant consciousness of making a tour. -People set out actually to travel in those times; and many a worthy -citizen of London contemplated the journey to Paris with as much wild -excitement, and strong sense of personal enterprise and merit in -braving danger, as did Le Valliant, or Bruce, or Cook, or any other -traveller of past days. - -To facilitate them in their undertaking, however, there was -established, at a house on the eastern side of the Haymarket, what may -be called a dépôt of _voituriers_, where a man was almost always to be -found or heard of, ready, for a specified sum, to carry any lady, -gentleman, or child, who might be locomotively disposed, from one part -of Europe to another. In truth, the manner of travelling was not at -all an unpleasant one, and being then in its first freshness, fewer -tricks were played upon the traveller, more conveniences provided for -him, and the rogues and vagabonds with which Europe is superabundantly -supplied, had not then fully discovered that the trade of _voiturier_ -was one which afforded them great facilities for the exercise of their -talent. - -It was one day, then, in the month of September, a short time after -various events had taken place, which have been related in this true -history, that a Swiss _voiturier_, ready, for any man's money, to go -to any part of the civilized world, was standing in the shop in -question, having left his horses and carriage in the good town of -Calais and come over to England, for the express purpose of seeing -what the English could be about, that nobody had hired him up to that -late period of the year. The master of the house expressed himself not -a little grieved that such was the case, but assured him that he had -not had one single application, and was in the very act of counselling -him to go back to Switzerland empty, when a tall, powerful, and -good-looking man, dressed in black, and with a very pretty and -lady-like young woman leaning upon his arm, entered the shop, and made -some enquiries, which instantly caused the Swiss to raise his ears, -and listen with great attention. - -His knowledge of the English language was certainly very limited, but -at the same time he understood the meaning of the word carriage, and -was well aware that the word Naples, though somewhat different from -the Italian name of the place, was applied by us Englishmen to the -City of the Syren. Be soon found, then, that the gentleman was -bargaining to be carried, lodged, and boarded by the way, from the -town of Calais to that of Naples. He, moreover, understood, that two -ladies and a child were to be of the party, so that four places, out -of the six which his vehicle afforded, might be speedily secured. He -perceived, likewise, that the gentleman made his bargain shrewdly and -strictly--in fact, as a man accustomed to deal with a world which has -rogues in it; and as he thought he saw an inclination on the part of -the master of the shop to risk losing a customer by demanding too -much, he hastened to join in to the best of his abilities, and make -his bargain for himself. His next discovery was, that the gentleman in -black could not speak a word of any language but his own; and that the -lady who was with him could only converse in French of a certain sort; -but after about three-quarters of an hour's discussion, the whole -matter was arranged satisfactorily, and the Swiss set off again for -Calais, to prepare for a journey to Naples, to which city he was to -convey the party of travellers, upon terms set down in a written -agreement. - -When all had been settled, the two future travellers took their way -through the streets of London to one of the small houses, which, -placed in the neighbourhood of the more fashionable parts of the town, -afford to the younger and poorer branches of distinguished families -many a convenient residence at no great expense. - -"No. 15, did you not say, Jane?" said the gentleman, addressing the -lady on his arm. "It seems a wonderfully nice house; I wonder how that -is kept up." - -Knocking as he spoke, he asked the servant who appeared--a man in -mourning livery--if Miss Barham were at home. But even while he was -putting the question, the door of what seemed a dining-room opened, -and a distinguished looking elderly man, apparently not in the best -health, came out, saying, to some persons within--"Well, gentlemen, -all I can say is, that he shall hear the whole particulars. You have -dealt candidly with me, in shewing me the deeds, and, without giving -an opinion on the case, I will promise you to communicate the whole -facts fairly." - -As he came forth the door was closed, and the servant who was in the -passage drew back to give him egress. - -"That is Mr. Hamilton, the famous banker," observed the gentleman in -black, in a whisper, to his fair companion--"a very good man, they -say." - -At the same moment the servant replied, that Miss Barham was at home, -and ushered the two up to the drawing-room, while a great deal of loud -talking, with evident haste and eagerness, was heard from the chamber -which they passed on the right. - -"What name shall I give, sir?" demanded the servant at the -drawing-room door. - -"Martin," replied the stranger; and the moment after Mr. and Mrs. -Martin were announced, in a loud tone. - -In an elegant, though somewhat small drawing-room, with everything -which could contribute to comfort and convenience around her, sat -Helen Barham, not less beautiful than ever, though with a deep shade -of melancholy hanging upon her fair brow, and a colour, almost too -delicately lovely, in her cheek. She raised her eyes as the man threw -open the door, and then started up with a look almost of alarm, -paused, and hesitated till the servant was gone, and then, with one of -her radiant smiles, chasing away the cloud, like the sun at noon, she -pointed to a chair, saying--"I am glad to see you--pray sit down. I -know not what startled me, but the name brought back painful -memories." - -"I do not wonder at it, ma'am," answered Harry Martin--"though, after -all, I think, if I were you, it would bring up the proudest and -happiest memories that could come into my heart. Memories of having -done, Miss Barham, what there are not two people in all Europe would -do--ay, not only of having saved a fellow-creature from death, but of -having saved him from perhaps worse destructions. I have come to thank -you, ma'am--and my poor wife, too; and the first name we shall teach -our baby to pray for is yours--isn't it, Jane?" - -Jane Martin went round the table, and dropping upon her knees beside -Helen Barham, kissed her hand, and bathed it with tears. - -"Oh, no, no!" cried Helen, trying to raise her. "Pray do not do -so!--you agitate--you distress me. I did but keep the promise I had -made." - -"Ay, ma'am, and nobly," replied Harry Martin; "give me those that _do_ -keep their word in this world of promise-breakers. But Jane has got -something to tell you, she will say it better than I can, for such -words are so new in my mouth that they come rather awkwardly." - -Helen turned an inquiring look towards Jane Martin, who had now risen, -and was standing by her side, wiping away the tears that the sweet -feelings of gratitude had drawn forth. "He means me to tell you, -madam," said the latter, "something that I am sure, if I judge you -rightly, will repay you for all you did, and all you suffered on that -terrible day at York. He has determined, madam, more out of gratitude -to you and one other, who has befriended us, too, in our time of need, -to change his way of life altogether. We are going to a far country, -ma'am, as far from England as we can get, without going out of Europe; -I mean to Naples, where I had once an uncle, who is, I believe, living -still. There we may do honestly and industriously, and, if possible, -in time, will pay back everything that is not rightly ours." - -"Oh, do so!--do so!" cried Helen, gladly; "the blessing which that -very thought will give you, will be worth any other kind of -happiness." - -"I begin to think so too, Miss Barham," replied Harry Martin; "and one -thing more I will say, which is, that I know what will make me the -happiest man alive." - -"What is that?" said Helen; "I am sure if it be possible for me to -help you I will. I cannot forget that, besides sparing my life when -many other people would have taken it, you aided to deliver my brother -from the power of those who would have most basely used the means of -injuring him which they possessed. Tell me what it is; I am far more -capable of doing something to show my gratitude now, than I have ever -been before, and if money--" - -"No, no!" exclaimed Harry Martin, "it is not money that I want, Miss -Barham! All I wish for is an opportunity of serving you. But do you -know, Miss Barham," he added, after a moment's pause, "I am almost -sorry to hear you have money to spare." - -"Why so?" said Helen, in some surprise. - -"Why, I don't know well how to tell you what I mean," replied Harry -Martin; "but it's this, you see, Miss Barham from what I know, I don't -see how you or your brother can have much money to spare, if he gets -it in a way that may not some time or another bring you into a worse -scrape than the last." - -Helen Barham's habit of blushing had not been lost, even in all the -painful scenes she had lately gone through, and the blood came warm -into her cheek at the man's words, though she knew that they were not -intended to offend or pain her. There was something in them, however, -which caused her mind instantly to refer to her late position--to the -position of danger and temptation in which she had been placed when -first she was presented to the reader's eyes--and the very thought -made the true modesty of her young and candid heart shrink as if from -contamination. - -"You are mistaken, in this instance," she said, mildly; "a great -change has taken place in our situation. I cannot tell you all the -particulars, for I do not know them; and, indeed, I believe on some -account I have been purposely kept in the dark--but it has been -discovered that a large property rightly belonging to my brother has -been kept from him. It was old Mr. Carr who first told me of the -facts; since then, the matter has been referred to several London -lawyers, who are so perfectly convinced the property cannot be -withheld any longer, that the solicitor is quite willing to advance my -brother any money that he needs--more so, indeed, than I could -wish--for William is yet too young to use it rightly." - -"He'll never be old enough," replied Harry Martin; "but, however, -whatever is for your good is a blessing; and, I trust, notwithstanding, -though God may give you, young lady, the fortune you well deserve, I -shall some day be able to show you my gratitude. I wont ask to see your -brother, Miss Barham, for the meeting would not be very pleasant to him -or to me, but I can tell him one thing, if he would have health or -happiness either, he must live a very different life from that which he -was following when I knew him. Why, we ourselves, who did not stick at -a trifle, as you may well suppose, used to get sick of his way of -going on." - -Helen Barham cast down her eyes, and for a moment or two made no -reply. It was painful enough for her to think that her brother should -ever have been the companion of the man who stood before her; but to -bear that even the profligates, the lawless, and the reckless, were -outdone by the son of her own mother, was terrible indeed. Her -silence, however, arose from other sensations, likewise produced in -her bosom by the words of Harry Martin. The stores of the past, the -things that have been--ay, and the things that are--are often garnered -up in our hearts like the inflammable substances of a magazine, -apparently cold and lifeless, but requiring only a spark to blaze -forth. That spark is frequently a mere accidental word; a look, a tone -will sometimes communicate the flame. There had been a deep anxiety -preying upon Helen Barham for some weeks, a new anxiety, a fresh -grief, which mingled with all the others painful feelings in her -bosom, and produced a sort of dread, which cast an additional gloom -over every prospect. She had remarked in her brother a bright red spot -in the pale cheek, increasing towards nightfall, an eye full of -unnatural lustre, a hurried and fluttering respiration, a slight but -frequent cough--all of which she had seen once before in another, a -few months previous to the time when the turf was laid upon her -mother's head. She had questioned him eagerly and often; she had -endeavoured to prevent him from committing excess in various ways, but -he had always insisted that he was quite well, and any attempt to -restrain his inclinations seemed but to irritate him, and to drive him -to wild extremes. Lately she had tried hard, and successfully, to shut -out his state of health from her mind: she had kept the truth at a -distance; but the words of Harry Martin not only opened her eyes, and -showed her that her brother was hurrying on towards death, but that it -was his own deed. - -"I fear," she said, in reply--"I fear that his health has suffered -very much! Indeed, he is anything but well; and I trust, when all this -business is settled, to induce him to try a better climate." - -"Induce him, Miss Barham," said Harry Martin--"induce him--" - -He was going to add--"to try a better life," but he gazed in the fair -face of Helen Barham, saw the deep melancholy that overspread it, and -felt afraid that he might add one drop more of bitter to the lot of -her, who, born with every endowment of person and mind which the -prodigal hand of nature could bestow upon a favourite child, had been -placed in circumstances where beauty was peril, where excellence was -trial, and where tenderness was anguish. He would not add another -word, but paused in the midst of what he was saying, and then turned -abruptly to his wife, exclaiming--"Come, Jane, let us go, we are only -keeping Miss Barham. God bless you, madam, and protect you. May you -find kind friends wherever you go, and may every one be as honest to -you as you have been to me. God bless you, I say, and make you happy, -and give me some opportunity of helping you when you need it." - -Thus speaking, he turned away and left the room, followed by his wife; -and Helen, bidding them adieu, resumed her occupations. - -They had not been long gone, however, when her brother came in, with -his face flushed and excited, and a look of triumph in his -countenance. "I have him," he said--"I'll do for him, Helen! We have -got hold of the only admission that was wanting. I'll make a beggar of -him before I have done with him!" - -"I hope not, William," answered Helen, reproachfully. "I hope you will -make a beggar of no one upon the earth. You, of all people, William, -ought to know how terrible a thing it is to be a beggar. But who is it -you are talking of?" - -"Ay! that I sha'n't tell you, Helen," replied William Barham, with a -laugh. "I know you'd be for interfering, and that wouldn't do. The -business is my own, and I'll manage it myself. You shall know nothing -about it till it's all done; and who can tell if the matter may not be -more for your advantage than you think?" - -"Well, William," rejoined Helen, with a sigh, "as I said to you -yesterday, if you do not tell me more, tell me nothing. But listen to -what I have to say to you. The man, Harry Martin, who was tried at -York, has been here to thank me. You know very well that he took, and -destroyed, those papers which were so dangerous to you. Now, I think, -as you say you have money to spare, you ought to send him some -immediately." - -"Not I," cried William Barham, though his face for a moment had become -very pale. "You say he destroyed the papers. He can't do anything -against me, then--I shall send him no money. You were a fool for not -letting him be hanged," and he turned sullenly from her, and left the -room. - -Helen Barham leaned her head upon her hand, pressed her handkerchief -upon her eyes, and wept bitterly. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVII. - - -THE night was dark and tempestuous, the rain beat violently against -the windows of the carriage, the wind blew so vehemently as to shake -it upon the springs, and the hollow moanings of the gale, as it swept -down the valley of Treisam, sounded like the screams of souls in -torture. Once or twice, but once or twice only, the features of the -scene around were displayed for an instant by a sudden flash of -lightning, and rock, and chasm, and rushing stream, swelled into a -torrent by the deluge that was pouring down, started out from the -darkness and instantly disappeared again. The effect was fine, but -awful; and for the sake of postilions and servants, Morley Ernstein -would have willingly turned back, but that the storm did not commence -till Freiburg was left far behind, and had not reached its height till -the carriage was nearly half way through the pass, known by the gloomy -name of the Valley of Hell. To go on, then, was a matter of necessity, -and Morley contented himself with calling old Adam Gray into the -inside of the carriage, to shelter his white hair from the storm of -night. The journey, indeed, was not without danger, for the pit of -Acheron was certainly never darker than the Höllen-Thal, in the -intervals of the lightning; and the windings of the road, amongst -rocks and streams, are conducted with a greater regard to brevity than -to the traveller's neck. - -"It is a dreadful night, indeed, sir," said good old Adam Gray, with a -shudder, "and it seems to be a terribly wild country. Why, the -carriage can scarcely get on, and I believe will be broken in pieces -before we get to the end of the stage." - -"Oh, no!" replied Morley; "it is too well built for that, Adam; and -the darkness makes you think every jolt worse than it is. Through this -very valley General Moreau made his famous retreat, bringing with him -his baggage and artillery, so it is impossible that it can be so very -bad." - -"It's bad enough, sir, any way!" exclaimed Adam Gray, as the carriage -passed over an immense stone, producing a jolt that nearly knocked the -heads of the travellers against the top of the vehicle. "I would -almost sooner be a cannon than a Christian to go through here--at -least in this dark night!" - -"I certainly should have waited till to-morrow," replied Morley, "if I -had known we should have such a storm, but now it is not to be helped, -and the stage, I believe, is not a very long one. We must sleep where -we can for to-night, as there is no use of attempting to go on to -Schaffhausen." - -The way, however, seemed to Adam Gray interminably long, for the -German drivers, with very proper caution, proceeded at a rate -certainly somewhat slower than that with which an English -broad-wheeled waggon wends its way along the drawing-room roads of our -own favoured land. At the end of about an hour the storm decreased, -the sharp gusts of wind ceased almost entirely, the lightning no -longer illuminated the valley from time to time with its fierce glare, -and the rain itself subsided into a thin and drizzling mist, through -which the lamps of the carriage poured a red and confused light, -occasionally catching upon some wild rock, or bringing forth from the -darkness the large boll of some old tree, but generally showing -nothing but the dim expanse of vapour which wrapped the harsh features -of the valley in a foggy shroud. - -How long they had thus gone on through that tempestuous night, Morley -Ernstein did not know, but he judged by guess that the next post-house -could not be far off, when the sound of what seemed a distant call met -his ear, and, turning to old Adam Gray, he said--"Well, Adam, your -rough journey will soon be over; we must be coming near Steig, for I -hear voices, and some persons shouting." - -"Perhaps some one has got hurt in this terrible night," replied Adam -Gray. "God send us well out of this horrid place!" - -Morley Ernstein listened eagerly, for the old man's words brought -suddenly into his mind the very probable case of some accident having -happened in such a storm and such a scene; and, letting down the -window, he put his head out, gazing round to see if he could descry -anything, but in vain. - -A moment or two after, however, a loud shout from the right, and at no -great distance, showed that the lamps of the carriage, though of no -great service either to the travellers or the postilions attached to -it, had sent their glare far enough into the gloom of the valley to -reach the eyes of some person in distress. The shout was repeated -again and again, and Morley thought that he distinguished an English -tone and English words, though let it be remembered that such sounds -may very well be heard in Germany, without the speakers being -Englishmen or knowing one syllable of our native tongue. This Morley -recollected, but, nevertheless, he was just as anxious to give -assistance as if he had been quite sure that the persons calling for -aid were his fellow-countrymen. - -The postilions, although they must have heard the cry fully as well as -those within the carriage, did not seem in the slightest degree -disposed to stop, but went on with the same indifferent jog-trot, -which probably they would have continued if the father of each of them -had been drowning in the stream below. Three times did Morley himself -call to them before they condescended to pay any attention. They at -length brought up, however, and quietly asked what was the matter. -Without waiting to inform them, but bidding the servants get down to -aid him, Morley sprang out of the vehicle, drew one of the lanterns -with his own hands from the socket, and called aloud, in very good -German, to ascertain where were the personages who had been so -vociferously appealing for help. - -The reply left him no doubt as to its being an Englishman who now -spoke, for the very first sentence was adorned with one of those oaths -which unhappily are but too often in the mouths of our countrymen. -"Holloa hoy!" cried the voice. "D--n you, if you don't make haste you -will be too late! This way, I say--this way!" - -It was not without some difficulty, however, that any means were found -of reaching the spot from whence the voice proceeded. The bank was -steep and rugged, large masses of rock and stone obstructed the way, -and the darkness of the night, increased by the mist, prevented Morley -Ernstein and his servant from seeing more than a few yards even by the -aid of the lantern, which the young gentleman himself carried. All -this delayed them much, but still they advanced, guided by several -voices talking rapidly and eagerly together; and bad French and bad -English were to be heard spoken in sharp and sometimes angry tones, -between people who seemed to have a very great difficulty in making -themselves mutually understood. - -At length, however, the exact place where all this was going on became -more distinct; and the forms of two men, two or three women, a child, -four horses, and an overturned coach, were seen against a back ground -of white spray and foam, occasioned by the stream--now swelled, as I -have before said, into a torrent, and dashing in angry fury amidst the -crags and rocky fragments which encumbered the valley. The men and -most of the women were all gathered closely round the carriage, and -seemed to be holding on thereby as if endeavouring to move it, while -one of the group was giving eager orders to another, in a somewhat -extraordinary compound of English and French, to attach the horses to -the overthrown vehicle in a particular manner, and endeavour to pull -it up; while the man to whom he spoke seemed to have taken the wise -resolution, in the first place, of not understanding him, and in the -next place, of not doing what he was told when he did. - -Such was the state of things when Morley Ernstein approached within a -few yards of the carriage, and perceived that the vehicle, and -whatever it might contain, was certainly in a very dangerous position, -being balanced as nicely as can be conceived, upon the edge of a -second bank, and apparently only kept from falling over into the -stream by the weight of the persons who held it down. Such was the -first fact that presented itself to Morley's mind; but there was -another point which struck him nearly at the same time--namely, that -the figures of two, at least, out of the personages in the group, were -quite familiar to him; and the combination of the voice which he had -heard, with the appearance of the people now before him, instantly -brought to his recollection our old acquaintance Harry Martin, and his -wife. The latter, it would seem, instantly recognised the young -Baronet in the person who now came to their aid, for at the very -moment that Morley recognised her husband, she exclaimed--"Oh, how -fortunate! It is Sir Morley, Harry--it is Sir Morley Ernstein!" - -"That is luck, indeed!" cried Harry Martin. "We shall now have -somebody to help us." - -The matter was soon explained; the Swiss driver of the vehicle in -which Martin had engaged a certain number of places for himself and -his family, had, in the darkness of the night, mistaken a small -cart-road on the right, for the highway to Steig, had soon become -embarrassed amongst the rocks, and had ended by overturning the -carriage in the most dangerous part of the valley. - -"The worst part of the whole job, is," said Harry Martin, "that the -old woman is a good deal hurt, I am afraid; and we couldn't get her -out the carriage, as it lies there. I had nobody to help me but this -d--d fellow, and he will not help at all." - -With the aid of Morley and his servants, the vehicle was soon freed -from the dangerous situation in which it hung, and drawn back into the -bad cart-road from which it had strayed. The jolting, however, was so -terrible to poor old Mrs. More--who had, as her son-in-law declared, -received considerable injuries--that she now very willingly agreed to -do that which she had at first refused, and quit the rough and -ill-hung coach for Morley's more comfortable conveyance. - -Finding that the distance to the post-house was not more than an -English mile, the young Baronet determined to go the rest of the way -on foot, sending only one servant with his carriage, and giving the -places thus left vacant to the women, whom he had found in such a -deplorable situation in the valley. Harry Martin's wife and the little -boy took their seats beside old Mrs. More, in the inside. There was -room for another behind, but there were still two persons to be -provided for, both foreigners--one seeming the mistress, and the other -the maid. The lady, however, insisted that her attendant should go, -saying--"You are bruised, Marguerite, and I am not; I can walk very -well." - -The attendant needed no great pressing, but took her place at once, -and Morley Ernstein, offering his arm to her mistress, gave directions -to his courier to remain with the Swiss, in order to aid him in -getting his carriage safely back into the main road, and then -proceeded, with Harry Martin on his right hand, talking sometimes to -one of his companions, sometimes to the other. The lady spoke very -little English, but French she understood thoroughly, although her -accent betrayed the tones of a southern land; and, now that the danger -was over, she laughed with light-hearted gaiety at the misadventures -of the night, though a tone of sadness mingled every now and then with -her merriment, when she mentioned the situation of the poor old lady, -Mrs. More. The impression produced by her conversation upon the mind -of Morley Ernstein was altogether agreeable; and indeed it must be a -hard case, where a young and graceful woman and a young and -accomplished man, finding their way on together along a road they do -not know, in a dull and drizzly night, dislike each other very much in -the end. - -The mind of Harry Martin seemed, for the time, wholly taken up with -the accident which had happened to Mrs. More, for whom he apparently -entertained as much affection as if he had been her son. Although he -in no degree affected to have forgotten Morley Ernstein, and spoke to -him in a tone of respect--perhaps one might say, of gratitude--yet he -referred, not even by a word, to the circumstances of their previous -acquaintance. Morley himself kept aloof from any such topic also, on -account of the proximity of his servants' ears, though he determined, -if occasion served, to enquire into all which had lately occurred to -his companion, and to ascertain by what train of events he now found -him in a remote part of Germany, with his wife and family. The -opportunity was soon given to him. On their arrival at Steig, they -found the little post-house full of bustle and confusion. Poor Mrs. -More had been taken out of the carriage, and removed to bed, it having -been found that her leg was broken in two places. Her daughter was in -the room, attending upon her, with no little distress of mind; and the -fair Italian, who had accompanied Morley Ernstein--though there was -evidently a little struggle in her breast as to whether she should -stay below in the hall, and pass the evening with the young English -gentleman, or go up and give what assistance she could to the sufferer -up stairs--decided, at length, in favour of the more amiable, though -less pleasant occupation. Bidding Morley a graceful good night, she -left him and Harry Martin in possession of the great, odd-shaped room, -which is almost always to be found on the lower story of a German inn, -and proceeded to the chamber of Mrs. More, where, we may as well add, -in passing, she shewed much good humour, and benevolent attention, -aiding Jane in putting her child to bed, and soothing and tending her -mother. - -In the meantime, Morley Ernstein's servants busied themselves in -preparing their master's room, taking care of the carriage, and -removing a part of the contents to the house; while the courier paid -the postilion within a few florins of the sum he intended to charge -his master, ordered the best of everything for his own supper, and the -next best for that of Sir Morley, and looked into the saloon three -times to see what the young gentleman was about, and to prove that he -was very attentive. - -On the part of Sir Morley Ernstein, the first proceeding was to send -for the post-master, and to enquire where a surgeon could be procured. -No good one was to be heard of nearer than Freiburg; and, accordingly, -a man on horseback was sent off by Sir Morley's directions, to bring -the best bone-setter that the capital of the Breisgau could afford. -Then--after various enquiries as to the real situation of the old -woman, after some going to and fro between her chamber and the saloon, -and all the little bustles, orders and counter-orders, enquiries and -replies, examinations and discoveries, precautions, preparations, and -annoyances, which attend the first arrival at an out-of-the-way inn, -on a dark and rainy night, after a journey of adventures and -mishaps--after all this was concluded Harry Martin stood upon the -other, with his arms crossed upon his broad, bull-like chest. - -"You see, Sir Morley," said the latter, at length, as if in -explanation of his feelings towards Mrs. More--"you see, that I am -very anxious about this old woman, for she has been kind to me ever -since I first knew her, and ended by saving my life. She was -the first one, sir, that ever made me think--love being out of the -question--that any one could care about me for myself, and she has -always kept tight to the same way of acting by me; though, God knows, -little was the good I ever did her or hers! However, I am sure I ought -to be well contented with the world, for when I was at the hardest -pinch that ever man was at, I found people to be generous to me, -people to be true to me, and people to be zealous for me, which, -altogether, was what saved my life, when I as much deserved to be -hanged as any man that ever was born." - -"How was that?" demanded Morley Ernstein, not doubting, indeed, the -truth of Harry Martin's confession, but merely desirous of hearing -something more of his history: "I left you in a fair way of making -your escape, I thought." - -"Ay, sir, so you did," replied his companion, "but I was fool enough -to put my foot in a trap, and was caught. I should have been hanged, -too, if it hadn't been for that noble girl Miss Helen Barham, who -should be a queen if I had my will. She kept her word with me in spite -of all that any one could say, and she'll go to heaven for it, if it -was for nothing else, for she's given me time to think and to change -my life altogether, and that's what the law would not have done. My -wife was reading me the Bible, the other day, where it says--'There's -joy in heaven over one sinner that repents;' and if it be so, -which I don't pretend to doubt, she must have made the place very -happy--which, indeed, I suppose it was before--for certainly I was as -bad as I could be, but now I have repented a good deal, and mean to do -so a great deal more. It would not have been the case, sir, if it -happened any other way at all; if they had hanged me, I should have -died game; and if I had got off by some trick of the lawyers, some -flaw in the indictment, or something of that kind, I should have been -at the old work again in a week; but to see that beautiful girl sit -there, badgered by the judge and all the lawyers, and quietly make up -her mind to go to prison sooner than to break her word with a man like -me,--why, sir, it changed my whole heart in a moment; and I thought to -myself, if I get off this time I will lead a different life altogether -for your sake, you angel, just to shew you that I'm not altogether so -bad as people think!" - -By degrees, Morley Ernstein obtained a general idea of all that -occurred to Harry Martin, since he left him in the north of England. -It was not with little interest that the young Englishman questioned -him concerning Helen Barham, and we need hardly say that it was with -pleasure he heard, not only her praises from the man beside him, but -an account of the actions which had called forth his gratitude. It was -with great satisfaction, too, he learnt that a change had taken place -in her pecuniary affairs and that competence, if not wealth, was at -all events assured to her; for though he had written to Mr. Hamilton -about her before he left England, and placed her future fate beyond -doubt, he was not a little pleased to find that she would be dependant -upon no one. The relative situation into which they had been thrown, -the high qualities of her mind, the compassion that he had felt for -her--ay, the very temptation which had at one moment assailed him, had -left a tenderness in his feelings towards Helen Barham, which was -certainly not love, and yet was something more than friendship, It was -a sensation, strange, complicated, difficult to be defined even to his -own mind; it was the blending of many memories and many sweet -impressions into something like the affection of a father for a child, -something like the love of a brother for a sister, and yet differing -from both, inasmuch as there was nothing conventional in it, inasmuch -as there was no bond or tie of duty, inasmuch as it differed from the -common forms and modes into which the rules of society shape our -feelings as well as our actions. - -The presence of such sensations in his bosom was rendered more -sensible to him by the conversation taking place at that moment, than -it had ever been before, and he paused for some short time thinking -that it was all very strange, and enquiring into the nature of the -things within him. The man Martin, in the meantime, remained beside -him, with his keen, intelligent eyes fixed upon his countenance, -apparently reading, or attempting to read, the thoughts that were busy -in his breast. - -At length he said--"Well, Sir Morley, I am going to bid you good -night, and I thank you very heartily for all the kindness you have -shewn me. There's one thing I can't help saying, however--and you must -not think me impudent or meddling for saying it, though I must not -mention any names--but I can't help thinking, sir, that you have -thrown away your own happiness, and quitted the good, and the true, -and the beautiful, to follow one that you'll find out some day, -perhaps when hope, and comfort, and peace are all ruined together. -Forgive me for saying it, sir, but I owe it to one who has been kind -to me to give him a warning. I wish you good night, sir!" - -"Stay, stay!" cried Morley; "explain what you mean, at least, before -you go." - -"No, no, I can't say any more," replied Harry Martin, moving steadily -towards the door, "I have said all that I have a right to say; and I -only add, that if you watch you will see, and if you enquire you will -find out. You will be convinced, at last, although I should think that -you had had enough to convince you already." - -Without waiting for further question he turned and quitted the room, -and Morley remained bewildered and surprised, applying the words just -spoken to Juliet Carr, although they referred to quite a different -object; and asking himself how the man who had just left him could -have gained such a knowledge of his affairs. Surprise was certainly -the first feeling, but suspicion is a guest that finds but too easy -admission into the human heart. - -"Peace, and comfort, and happiness are indeed gone already," he said, -"and gone by her act--must I call it by her fault? Can this be -trifling?--Love, they say, is blind.--Can it be coquetry? Can she be -sporting with my misery?" - -But, as he put the question to his own heart, the idea of Juliet Carr, -in all her beauty, in all her frank simplicity, in all that -openhearted candour which gave the crowning grace to her demeanour, -rose up before his sight, and he became not only angry with himself -for having given credit to one word against her; but angry also and -indignant, with the man who had uttered aught that could raise a doubt -of her sincerity in his mind. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVIII. - - -Early on the following morning the carriage of Morley Ernstein stood -prepared for departure before the little inn at Steig. He had sent to -ask after the health of the old woman who had suffered from the -accident of the preceding night, and had heard, certainly with -pleasure, that the surgeon made a favourable report of her situation, -though he at once pronounced that she must remain for many weeks in -the room to which she had been carried. For Martin himself the young -gentleman had not asked; nor did he speak more than a few words to him -when he met him at the bottom of the stairs, in descending to go into -his carriage. Although convinced that the man intended well, he was -still angry, to say the truth, at the words which the other had -addressed to him on the preceding evening; the more angry, perhaps, -because he felt irritated with himself on account of the shade of -doubt which lingered in his own mind, which he had combated during the -whole night without being able to conquer it, which had fled but to -return, and which still raised its head against reason and -argument--ay, and even conviction itself. - -With one of the party which he had encountered the night before, -however, he did stop to speak for some minutes. It was with the -Italian lady, who had been his companion on foot from the place where -the accident had occurred to the inn; and he now perceived clearly--a -fact of which he had only a faint notion from his glance during the -preceding evening--namely, that she was a young and very pretty woman; -not exactly beautiful, for there was not a feature in her face which -deserved that often misapplied epithet, if we except the eyes. They, -indeed, were remarkably fine, as most Italian eyes are--bright, -sparkling, and full of merry light, but chastened withal by a frequent -look of feeling and thoughtful meditation. To behold them, and to -watch their expression for any length of time, reminded one of a -sunshiny prospect with an occasional cloud floating over it and -varying by its soft shadows the sparkling brightness of the scene. - -With her, then, Morley stopped to speak for some time, enquiring after -her health, and hoping that she had not suffered from the accidents of -the night before. She replied, gaily, that she had nothing to complain -of, except that she was stopped on her journey, which, indeed, was not -only an annoyance, but a misfortune. It would be two or three days, -she said, before the carriage would be able to proceed, and delay -would be most inconvenient to her, as she had engagements in Milan and -Venice, on account of which she had determined on going by the -Brenner, as the pass most certain to be open. If she could but reach -Constance, she would soon be able to find a conveyance for the rest of -the journey which was not to be done at Steig. - -Morley hesitated; English prudence came in the way--the question which -every Englishman first puts to himself, "What will people say," -instantly suggested itself; and it took him a minute, which under such -circumstances is a long time, ere he could make up his mind to do that -to which good-nature prompted him. How often is it that good feelings -are panders to bad actions! Alas! too frequently do they lead us so -near the door of evil places, that we are tempted to go in. Morley -Ernstein took his resolution at length, and replied, that if she were -not bound by any means to go in the same conveyance which had brought -her so far, a seat in his carriage was much at her service. - -Many persons may, perhaps, enquire whether her sparkling dark eyes had -anything to do with Morley's civility. I can conscientiously -reply--"Nothing in the world." He would have made the same proposal if -she had been as ugly as Cerberus perhaps more readily; and the only -part that her bright eyes could take in the business, was to make her -even a more dangerous companion than that three headed gentleman -himself. - -She did not refuse the young Baronet's proposal, but laughed with an -arch look as she accepted it, saying--"You are afraid of your -reputation. Is it not so? All Englishmen are so prudent and careful! -We Italians have much more confidence in virtue, bad as they call us; -but I am not the least afraid, though my reputation is much more -likely to be endangered than yours--for I, too, have a reputation to -lose." - -She spoke the last words somewhat proudly, and there was a frankness -in her whole demeanour which pleased Morley Ernstein, and set him more -at ease. The carriage was ordered to wait for half-an-hour, the -voiturier was easily settled with, the trunks and packages were -removed to Morley Ernstein's chariot, and the young Englishman -followed the fair Italian into the vehicle, a third place being taken -therein by her maid. Good Adam Gray looked grave; and although his -brow was somewhat cleared when he saw that his master and the strange -lady were not to be without a companion, yet, to say sooth, the old -man was not well satisfied. Whether it was experience or nature taught -him that, for a young man like Morley to sit side by side, during a -somewhat long journey, with a gay and pretty Italian girl was a -dangerous sort of proximity, matters very little; but Adam Gray could -not help fancying that the matter might end ill, having no great faith -in the virtue of any lady born beyond the precincts of the four seas, -and, perhaps, not quite so much confidence in his master's powers of -resisting the impetuous fire of his own nature as Morley really -deserved. - -Now might I, dear reader, trace the journey of the young Englishman -and his fair companion, tell all that took place between them, and -point out how she gradually won upon Morley Ernstein--amused, pleased, -interested him. I might dilate upon all the little incidents of the -road, all the attentions which he thought himself bound to pay her, -all those small and accidental circumstances which occasionally lead -people on, to use Shakspeare's expression, upon "The primrose way to -the everlasting bonfire." There were many of those things took -place--there was the flash of similar thought, there was the -admiration of similar objects, there were the slight differences that -give variety, there were the touches of feeling which, like the -cabalistic words pronounced by the magician, in the tales of eastern -lands, open the heart, however firmly it may be locked against -intrusion. But we must pause upon very few of these matters, and will -only notice two little incidents, and one brief part of their -conversation. - -At the moment they set out, Morley made up his mind not to stay at -Schaffhausen, but to go on to Constance at once; it must be admitted -that he took this resolution from an unacknowledged conviction that he -was not doing the most prudent thing in the world, in travelling with -the fair Italian at all. In fact, he wished not to make more than one -day of the journey. It was somewhat later, however, than he had -calculated upon when they arrived at Schaffhausen, the hour of the -table-d'hôte was over, dinner could not be obtained for an hour, and -the host enquired, as if it were a thing absolutely necessary to be -done, at what time they would like to see the falls. The lady looked -in Morley's face, and left him to answer. It seemed to him that there -would be a rudeness in not giving her a choice; and the consequence -was, they went to see the falls together, by the light of a fine -afternoon, and returning to Schaffhausen remained there that night. - -In the saloon to which they were shown there was a piano; and Morley's -companion, in one of the unoccupied moments--of which there are more -in inns than in any other places, perhaps, in the world--walked up to -the instrument, ran her fingers over the keys, with a touch of -complete mastery, and hummed, rather than sang, a few bars of a -popular opera; but it was done in a manner which left Morley in no -doubt that her voice itself had been cultivated with the utmost care. -It may easily be supposed, then, that the evening did not pass without -music--without that enjoyment, which, whether we may consider it an -entity or not, is in all its forms one of the greatest blessings that -ever was bestowed on man. - -Music--what is it? How can one say what it really is? Substantial it -is certainly not, or rather, I should say, material. Where is it to be -found? Is it not in the spirit itself? Is it not, in fact, one of the -highest and holiest qualities of the soul; a perception of that -harmony which we may well believe to be an attribute of God, from -finding it in all his works--from seeing it in all his revelations of -himself. In what part of creation is it that the heart of man may not -find music, if he will? Sweet sounds may, indeed, by the ear produce -the impression most distinctly; but sights presented to the eye will -raise exactly the same sensations in the spirit; and sounds, and -sights, and sense, all link themselves together in memory, shewing -their near affinity to each other and their reference to one -harmonious whole. Nevertheless, on this earth the grand expression of -that innate music, which--as fire is latent in every existing material -thing--lies hid in every object of the spirit's action, is still to be -found in the union of sweet tones; and as the reader may easily -imagine, from all we have said of his character, no one was ever more -deeply moved by the power of harmony than Morley Ernstein. He -listened, then, entranced to the singing of the fair Italian, perfect -as it was in every respect, for nature had given her, in her rich -Italian voice, an instrument such as no art could fabricate; and -science and long study had taught her to wield all its powers with -unrivalled effect. Taste, too, and, apparently, deep feeling were not -wanting; and when she had sung something exquisitely beautiful, and -then looked up in Morley's face to see the effect it had produced on -him, there was as much music in her eyes as on her lips. - -These, reader, are the two incidents which I promised to relate; and -now for the conversation. Their second day's journey was verging to a -close; a sort of soft languor had come over the fair Italian--a touch -of melancholy, such as almost every one must feel in drawing nigh the -moment of parting from one with whom we have held sweet intercourse -even for a few short hours. They had glances of the Rhine as they -rolled along; they caught the distant towers of Constance, to which -they were rapidly approaching; gleams of far mountains; and, once, a -sight of the wide lake met their eyes as they advanced; and all told -them that the time of separation was coming. The maid was apparently -asleep; and, at all events, Morley and his companion, were speaking -French, which she did not understand. The sights before their eyes, -the yellow evening tint that was spreading over the sky, not only led -their thoughts to that moment of parting, but brought the conversation -suddenly to it also. The lady looked up, from the reverie of a minute -or two, with a smile, in which there was a touch of the sadness of -which I have spoken. - -"Well," she said, "we are now drawing near our journey's end. I have -to thank you much for your kindness. It will prove of great service to -me, and, I trust, be of no disservice to you. You see we have passed -along our way without meeting any one, so that neither your reputation -nor mine can have suffered." - -"I know it is very foolish," answered Morley, in his usual frank -manner; "but I do not deny that I may feel the prejudices of my -country in these respects, though not sufficiently, I hope, to prevent -me from doing what is courteous and right. But still, I do think it -would be a dangerous practice, generally speaking, for young and -pretty ladies, such as yourself, to travel alone with any man unallied -to them in blood." - -"Why?" demanded the Italian lady, simply. - -It was rather a difficult question to answer with sincerity; and, -after hesitating for a moment, Morley Ernstein said--"Why, nobody can -tell where they go to--how they spend their time. In short, they throw -off that sort of responsibility that they owe to society--the eyes of -the world are no longer upon them." - -"And is it only the eyes of the world which keep people from doing -wrong?" asked the lady. - -Morley laughed, and, wishing to change the subject, he answered--"Many -other inconveniences might happen, you know--they might fall in love -with each other, or do a thousand things of that kind." - -"Oh, then I am quite safe!" replied the lady--"for I never yet saw the -man whom I felt the least inclination to fall in love with in my -life." - -"Perhaps you are incapable of love," said Morley. "There are some -women so happily constituted by nature, that they never know what it -is to be touched by any but the more tranquil affections." - -"Perhaps such is the case," she rejoined quite seriously, "or perhaps, -what is more likely, I may spend all my feelings upon matters of -imagination. A song, a piece of music, a scene in a play, will move me -in a degree that I cannot describe. I have generally remarked, and am -inclined to believe it is an invariable rule, that people of a strong -imagination are very seldom troubled with strong affections." - -Her observation threw Morley into a reverie. He asked himself whether -it were true, and paused in doubt, not having sufficient experience to -solve the question at once by his own knowledge, and plunging into -those metaphysical deductions, which lead as often to what is false as -to what is true. - -The lady went on to say--"I hope--indeed I am sure, that such is the -case with myself; for I would not for the world feel such passions as -I see depicted and hear told. Thus I know myself to be perfectly safe, -and can trust myself in any situation without fear." - -"And yet," rejoined Morley, with a meaning smile, "you are an -Italian." - -"True," she answered, with one of her sparkling looks; "but perhaps -the very fact of the existence of such strong passions amongst my -countrywomen, as you would insinuate, may have been my warning and -safeguard." - -"Where there is no danger, there is no need of a safeguard," said -Morley. "You acknowledge, then, that it is by reason, and not by -nature, that you are guided." - -"You must not press me too hard," exclaimed the lady, laughing--"you -know we women never understand how to argue. All I know is, that I -never did love, and never shall love any man--not even you, fair sir," -she added, laughing--"though you have certainly been much more kind -and courteous than most of your countrymen; and the only way I can -repay you is, by asking you to come and see me, should you visit -Venice, or, at least, should you be there some two months hence. I may -then be enabled to return your courtesy in some shape, and perhaps may -procure you the means of seeing more of the city of the waves than -foreigners usually do see." - -"I will certainly avail myself of your invitation," replied Morley; -"but you forget that, owing to the strange way in which our -acquaintance commenced, I am ignorant, up to the present moment, even -of your name." - -"Oh, that omission will soon be remedied," answered the lady--"my name -is Veronica Pratesi. You will easily find me in Venice." - -Thus ended the conversation to which we wished to refer. The lady and -Morley spent the evening together at Constance, and part of the next -morning. A carriage was easily procured to convey her on her way, and -Morley placed her in it, and bade her adieu with feelings of regret. - -Her sparkling manner, too, was somewhat overshadowed by passing -clouds. At one moment, she was gay and bright as ever; at the next, -fell into deep thought. She bade him farewell however, with all the -levity of a Frenchwoman; but as soon as the adieu was spoken, and -while something was doing to the interminable harness, she gazed down -into the bottom of the vehicle, as if to prevent herself from having -any more last words. The moment the driver's whip cracked for -departure she turned round to look at Morley again; and her face was -then overclouded. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIX. - - -"Hi! ha!" said Lieberg, as he sat at breakfast with Morley Ernstein, -in the Golden Stag, at Munich--"so you met with the cold and fair -Veronica, and actually travelled with her in your own carriage. I -trust, Morley, you did not fall in love with her, for there is no hope -there. When she first appeared at the opera at Naples--" - -"What! she is an actress, then?" demanded Morley Ernstein. - -"A singer--a singer," replied Lieberg--"the famous cantatrice. But, as -I was saying, when first she appeared at Naples, all the dissolute old -nobles of that kingdom, and half-a-dozen others of your own, Morley, -thought no expense would be too great to add this fair linnet to their -aviary. Various were the proposals made to her, more flattering to her -avarice than her virtue; but to every offer of the kind Veronica -returned but one answer--that of silent contempt. Then came the young, -and the gay, and the fascinating; and many a woman, Morley, as you -well know, surrenders to the wordy siege of a penniless young -libertine, who has resisted the golden bombardment of his grandfather. -But it was all in vain: Veronica gave them to understand that she -objected to young fools just as much as to old ones. Some were driven -into the despair of matrimony, and made what they called honourable -proposals, after having made what, by a plain inference, she was bound -to consider the reverse. But Veronica answered that whatever she -thought of their former offers, she thought still worse of these, -adding, that whatever folly she did commit, it should not at least be -the folly of marriage. Every one then said that she would make her own -choice, and would select some one, either for his rank, his person, or -his mind. But four years and more have since passed; all ranks, -classes, conditions, and degrees, have been at her feet, and Veronica -has continued to shew herself exactly the same piece of ice which she -from the first declared herself to be." - -"In fact," said Morley, "a cold coquette." - -"No," answered Lieberg gravely--"no. I was at Naples the time the -thing first began, and I must do her the justice to say, she gave no -encouragement to any one. People always will seek what is difficult to -be had; and that quality, together with her singing, her fine eyes, -and her beautiful figure, were the great attractions. She sets up for -a sort of Corinne, too, writes poetry, goes about and sees the world, -makes an immense deal by her singing, and is a person very much -_recherchée_ in Venice, I can assure you." - -"Is she a Venetian?" demanded Morley. - -"No," replied Lieberg--"she is a Milanese, but she lives principally -in Venice, because, as she says truly, it is a city without noise, and -there is nothing she abhors so much as the rolling of carriage-wheels, -except the plaudits of a theatre." - -"Then the fact simply is," said Morley, "she is a woman without -passions, and whose vanity takes a high tone." - -"In the last, you are right," answered Lieberg--"with regard to the -first, I doubt. There is something in the flashing of her eye, in the -brightness of her smile, and, occasionally, in the impetuous torrent -of her song, that gives the lie to her whole conduct. But as I do not -know her in private life, and never intend to know her either, I -cannot say, with any certainty, what is really beneath the appearance -of coldness. I never put myself in a situation to fall in love with a -woman with whom I am not likely to succeed; and if you will take my -advice, Morley, you will keep out of the way of Veronica Pratesi, -especially as you are very fond of music." - -"I am not at all afraid," replied Morley; "there is not the least -chance of my ever falling in love with a barrel organ, let the tunes -be ever so pretty." - -Lieberg smiled, well pleased to see that a bitterness not natural to -his young companion still held possession of him, so far as to affect -even his speech upon ordinary occasions. The conversation dropped -there, and at the end of about ten days, once more in full -companionship, their carriages were rolling down into the valley of -the Inn. - -I forget who it is that has said, that there is consolation in all -things. Perhaps he meant _for all things_; but I believe that the -observation were more just when taken in the most apparent -sense--namely, that from all things that do surround us, we may -extract consolation if we will. I have dwelt upon this topic already -perhaps at too great length; and what I have said respecting the -scenery on the Rhine, and its effect upon the mind of Morley Ernstein, -need be repeated here in regard to the scenery of the Tyrol: only, as -the objects around him were here grander and wilder, so the -impressions conveyed were more strong, more elevating, and also more -permanent. - -It would seem to me impossible, did I not know that it is frequently -done, for any man to stand in the presence of gigantic mountains, or -dwell long amidst the snowy peaks, and cloud-mantled summits of the -Alps, without finding his heart enlarged and his spirit raised by the -sublime aspect of the world around him. It is possible, however--but -too possible; and, although such was not the case with Morley -Ernstein--although he felt his bosom expand, as it were, to take in -the sensations produced by such majestic sights--the mind of his -companion remained unchanged, whatever was the scenery through which -he passed. And yet, let me not be mistaken; perhaps his mind also did -undergo some alteration, not in its nature, not in its character, but -in its capacity. The evil spirit might, in its own dark purposes, -assume a loftier range, but without the slightest difference in the -ends proposed, without a change even in the means employed. The -sensation of joy and satisfaction at any progress made, of dark -malevolence and angry impatience when aught obstructed its course. -might become more energetic, more grand, more awful, though all the -rest remained the same. There is a sublime in bad as well as in good, -and the feelings of Lieberg, it would appear, were in intensity, as -much influenced by the sights which presented themselves hourly to his -eye in the Tyrol, as even that of his companion. - -One thing, however, is to be remarked, the country in which they now -were was quite new to Morley, but not so to Lieberg. He had seen it -often before, and the freshness of first impressions was at an end. -Nevertheless he gladly took part with his fellow traveller, in all his -wanderings through that bright scenery; he climbed the peaks of the -mountains with him; he gazed down into the valleys; he trod the wide -tracks of snow; he accompanied him through the deep woods of pines; he -stood upon the edge of the beetling precipice, or gazed over the wild -dark lake; and it must be said, that his companionship gave additional -charms to the expedition. Untiring in mind and in body, seeming never -to know weariness for a moment, always well pleased at whatever course -was taken, and always deriving a fresh current of thoughts, equally -new and striking, from every change of scene that presented itself, -Lieberg kept the thoughts of Morley Ernstein in a continual state of -excitement, pleasing, though too strong. Occasionally, indeed, some of -those strange observations, or perverted trains of reasoning, to which -I have already adverted more than once, would burst forth, as it were, -irrepressibly; and dark and awful words, betokening a spirit angry -with, and rebellious to the will of God, would startle Morley at the -very moment when his own heart felt inclined to raise itself in praise -and adoration. - -It was thus one day, after climbing nearly to the summit of a high -peak, that they stood with their feet among the fresh fallen snow of -the preceding night. There was a bright blue sky above them, and a -light cloud rolled round the edge of the mountain, about half way -down, while, beyond it--bursting forth in strong relief of light and -shade--appeared one of those splendid valleys, surrounded on every -side by Alps, and a thousand lesser hills rising up from the bottom of -the depth, and bearing high their ancient castles to catch the -noon-day sun. Morley gazed round with feelings of love and gratitude -towards that Being who has robed the earth in splendour, and cast a -mantle of beauty over all his works. But then, even then, as their -eyes rested upon an infinite multitude of things, varying through -every form of loveliness, and running up in magnificent harmony, from -the fair delicate flower on the edge of the snow, to the stupendous -sublimity of the icy crags above their head--it was then, even then, -that Lieberg, after several minutes of dark thought, exclaimed, "Where -shall man flee from God, from him, who has pronounced himself a God of -vengeance--from him whose will is death and destruction--who has -allotted a portion of sorrow to every being he has created, and cast -the miserable insects he has formed into a sea of wretchedness, and -strife, and mutual destruction? Where shall man flee from this fierce -God? If he go into the cities, the pestilence and the sword, the -midnight robber, the slow disease, the poisoned cup, the faithless -paramour, disappointed hopes, agonized limbs, pangs, and death, meet -him there; he can scarcely breathe the air without drawing in some -calamity; he can scarcely lay himself down to rest without finding an -asp upon his pillow. If he climb to the top of the mountains, and take -refuge in the solitude of these eternal hills, the lightning and the -rending fragment, the false footing and the thundering avalanche -follow him there, and crush the writhing object of tyrannical power, -as man himself sets his foot upon the worm." - -Morley turned round, and gazed at him with sensations of wonder and -horror; but after a moment's pause, the awful cloud which had hung -upon Lieberg's fine brow, passed away, and noticing the expression of -his companion's countenance with a smile, he added--"You are -surprised, Morley, to find such gloomy feelings in one so gay as I am; -but, perhaps, it may be the conviction of all life's many miseries -that teaches me so eagerly to drain its scanty joys." - -"No, Lieberg, no," answered Morley, somewhat sternly; "I was not -surprised at finding such gloomy feelings; but I was surprised at -finding such impious thoughts, and hearing such blasphemous words." - -"But are they not true ones?" demanded Lieberg, with his eye flashing. -"For what did God make man, but to curse him?" - -"Man is his own curse," replied Morley. "We see it in everything. Are -not his luxuries and his vices the cause of his diseases? Are not his -strife and contention the effect of his own pampered passions? Are not -almost all the evils that beset him, in a civilized state, the work of -his own refractory will, opposed to the declared will of God? You may -say that God formed him with those passions, and therefore that still -the curse was his; but God gave them to him for good, not for evil; -and not only with beneficent generosity left him to choose the good or -evil course, according to his own volition, but guarded him against -the one by warning and exhortation, and persuaded him to the other by -every inducement, and every reward. Man is his own curse, Lieberg; man -is his own curse, and if, as we daily see, he brings two-thirds, at -least, of the misery that exists upon his own head, by his own act, -we may very well conclude, that the rest of the load also was -purchased in times past by errors and disobedience of the same kind." - -"By eating an apple in a garden," said Lieberg, with a sneer, turning -on his heel to descend the mountain. - -"By rebellion against God, in some shape!" replied Morley. - -Lieberg paused suddenly upon the verge of the crag, with his eye -flashing fiercely, as if from personal offence, and for an instant the -same demon-like expression came over his whole face, and even form, -which had once caught the eye of Helen Barham. As he stood there, with -his fine limbs thrown into strong action while balancing himself -proudly upon the very edge of the precipice, and with the dark shadow -on his haughty features, he certainly looked like one of the fallen -spirits come down to hold dangerous communion with mortal men. The -passion which moved him, however, passed away in a moment, and, -without saying another word, he proceeded in his descent. - -Though nothing that could be called a dispute had taken place, yet -this conversation cast a shadow both upon Morley and Lieberg, during -the rest of the day. They proceeded in the afternoon to Meran, and put -up at the little inn, where stories of Hofer, and thoughts of past -times, served, like the evening sun, to clear the clouds away, and -they rose for their journey the following morning in a more cheerful -mood. - -I have said this book is not a road-book--I wish to Heaven it were, -for there are few things more pleasant than journeying lightly along, -taking the reader as one's companion, and discussing with him, in a -quiet, easy kind of way, sometimes the bright and beautiful things of -nature, sometimes the follies and absurdities of man; telling a story -here, gleaning an anecdote there; moralizing on the strange destinies -of states and individuals; looking into the domestic home of the -peasant in one place, sitting down with the statesman in his -retirement in another; sometimes listening to the thunders of -eloquence, sometimes to the music of the shepherd's pipe. But all this -must not be, and we must hurry upon our way with Morley and his -companion passing along by the side of the clear and sparkling Adige, -and issuing forth into the plains of Lombardy; but, strange to say, -with far different feelings from those which are described by -universal tourists in the language of conventional admiration for the -land of song and ancient arts. - -The weather in the Tyrol had been fine and warm, for the season of the -year. The days had been clear, the nights fine, as if summer had come -back in the train of autumn, to usurp, for a time, possession of the -earth in despite of winter. The scenery had thus appeared to the -highest advantage, and the Lombard plains seemed flat and meaningless -to the eyes of Morley Ernstein, as they bent their way towards Verona. - -After sleeping in that fine old city, seeing all the curious monuments -Which it contains, Juliet's apocryphal tomb, and that splendid -amphitheatre which first wakes up in the mind of the traveller the -images of the mighty past, that Rome is destined to call forth still -more vividly, it became a question whether they should proceed on -their way southward, while the weather was yet fine and clear, or turn -aside to visit Venice, and other places of interest on that side of -Italy. - -Lieberg seemed somewhat anxious to go on, but Morley had dreams about -Venice which he wished to realize. It was to him a place of greater -interest than Rome itself. He had few sympathies with the Cæsars, but -with "_The Rialto, Shylock, and the Moor_," he had a thousand, and -easily induced his companion to give up his own opinion, and accompany -him, by Vicenza and Padua, to the City of the Sea, proposing, as they -returned, to pass by Mantua and Modena, on their way to Naples. - -Venice is certainly a place of enchantment--the only town I ever saw -which leaves fancy far behind. Morley Ernstein yielded to the magic -influence of the place, as he had yielded to the effect of every other -beautiful thing along the road. The buildings, the pictures, the air, -the Adriatic, the moonlight walks in the Piazzetta, the solemn -mysterious gloom of the jewel-fretted dome of St. Mark's,--all excited -his imagination to a pitch which he had thought scarcely possible; he -lived as if in another world; he felt as if his Spirit were refreshed -and renewed. The powers of enjoyment came fully back upon him, and the -vein of melancholy, of unfading and unfaded regret, that mingled with -every pleasure, seemed now to elevate and not to lower the tone of his -sensations. - -Such was his state of mind when, one day as he was waiting for Lieberg -on the Sclavonian quay, and gazing thoughtfully over towards the -ghost-like church of the _Salute_, a lady crossed him, dressed, as is -very common there, in black, and gliding along with a quick but -graceful pace, her head bent down, and her veil closely drawn around -her face. She had passed him before she seemed to take any notice; but -then she suddenly stopped, and turning round, as if she partially -recognised him, and wished to make herself sure, she raised her veil, -shewing him the countenance of his fair companion Veronica. - -Morley sprang forward with real pleasure, for the effect of Lieberg's -description of her character and conduct was yet strong upon his mind, -but she looked at him reproachfully, though she held out her hand, -saying--"You had forgotten your promise. I have heard of your being in -Venice these five days." - -"I had not forgotten, indeed," replied Morley; "but, if you recollect, -you gave me to understand that you would not be here so soon." - -"True--true," she said; "but I did not stay in Milan as long as I -expected--I wanted to get back; and now I am mortified, because I dare -say you have seen almost all that is worth seeing here without me. I -wanted to shew you everything myself, and to see your enthusiasm, to -call it forth, to force it into action. My countrymen, and almost -every other nation upon earth, make a mistake about you English; they -say you have no enthusiasm, but I believe that England is the only -country where true enthusiasm is to be found. The difference is, that -with us there is the gilding upon the surface--with you the gold is in -the heart; with most nations it is a painted shrine having little -inside, but with you it is the oaken casket, and the jewels within; -now, you have deprived me of the pleasure of seeing these jewels--I -mean, making you display your enthusiasm; and therefore I am very -angry with you." - -"You shall not be angry with me long," said Morley--"for I have not -yet seen one half there is to see, and my enthusiasm is in such a -state of excitement, that I could run wild upon almost any subject -connected with Venice." - -"That is right--that is right," she tried; "and you must let me shew -you all. Where are you going now? My gondola is at the end of the -quay; but who is this coming here, as if to join you? Oh, I -remember!--that dark, terrible man Lieberg; I have seen him in Naples -in days of old. I never loved that man: there is something fearful -about him. You are travelling with him, I hear. Beware--beware!" - -Almost as she spoke, Lieberg came up, bowing low to the fair Italian, -but without addressing her, and Morley could evidently see that he was -not well pleased to find him in her society. - -"I am sorry," he said, addressing his friend--"that I shall not be -able to accompany you as I intended, for I find letters at the -banker's this morning, which require an immediate answer." - -Veronica's features sparkled with pleasure, which she took not the -slightest pains to conceal. "You shall come with me, then," she said, -"and we will row across to one of the islands, go to the Armenian -convent, or to Murano--No, that is too far--we will go down the Grand -Canal, and see some of the pictures. There are pictures here that make -one live three hundred years ago, and speak with people that have been -long in their graves." - -"A pleasant employment, madam, for a dull morning," said Lieberg. -"Sometimes the dead are as pleasant, and less dangerous companions -than the living," answered the lady, in a marked manner. Lieberg bowed -low, with bitter emphasis, replying--"Undoubtedly!" - -Veronica could not but feel his meaning, and her eyes flashed for a -moment angrily, but the next instant the look of irritation passed -away, and giving her hand gaily to Morley Ernstein, she said--"Come! -your friend is not an Englishman, and therefore we can expect no -enthusiasms from him." - -In a minute or two after, however, as they were walking on together, -she said, in a low voice--"Has he been slandering me? Has he dared to -say aught against my name?" - -"No, indeed," answered Morley Ernstein; "nothing of the kind, I assure -you. He told me he had seen you at Naples some years ago--" - -"But his words implied something," she exclaimed, hastily--"he spoke -as if he wished to give you a warning, and evidently alluded to some -existing danger. What was it? Tell me, my friend, if you are frank, as -I believe you. Did he, or did he not, mean to imply that I was like -some of our light women of the theatres, who seek for men, such as you -are, to plunder and deceive them?" - -"Not in the least," replied Morley; "he thought, on the contrary, that -you might captivate but to make me unhappy; in fact, that you might -sport with love after having excited it." - -"I seek not to excite it," said the lady in a grave tone; "I never -have sought, and I have warned you fully." - -"You have," answered Morley, "and I have no fear. My heart is cased in -iron, fair lady, as hard as your own, and there is no danger of my -deriving aught but pleasure from your society." - -The lady looked up in his face with a gay smile, conscious of grace -and powers of captivation, perhaps doubting a little her companion's -capabilities of resistance, and half inclined to try them, if but to -shake his too great confidence. In short, dear reader--for in truth I -must be short--Morley Ernstein and Veronica Pratesi were in as -dangerous a situation as ever two people were in this wide world; both -of them a good deal too confident of their own powers, and trusting -themselves too far in every way. - -At the end of the quay was the lady's own gondola, and in it, half -sitting, half lying, as is the case in those luxurious contrivances, -Morley Ernstein skimmed along over the waves of the lagune during the -rest of the day. That in itself was dangerous enough, but the -conversation of his fair companion, the sights they met with, the -feelings, the thoughts, the enthusiasms which those sights called -forth, the excitement of the scene and the circumstances, all rendered -even that first day very perilous indeed. Darkness at length fell, and -Veronica insisted that Morley should dine with her, and spend the rest -of the day at her house. It was a small but beautiful dwelling, with a -delicately carved marble staircase, leading down to one of the -principal canals; and as Morley found that he could not leave Lieberg -without some explanation, he obtained her permission to return to the -inn on the promise of being back with her again immediately. Her -gondola conveyed him to Danielli's, and waited for him while he went -up and told Lieberg of his engagement. - -His companion gazed in his face with a look of some astonishment, and -then exclaimed, laughing--"On my life, Morley, either this woman is a -coquette, which is a name she never bore, or else she is in love with -you." - -"Neither, my good friend," replied Morley. "If I did not feel sure -that she was neither one nor the other, my conduct would be very -different." - -"Well, go on, Morley--go on," said Lieberg, shaking him by the hand; -"if you win Veronica Pratesi, you will indeed be an extraordinary -person. But you will not win her; so take care you don't get yourself -into a scrape." - -To some it may seem, that Lieberg was very kind in his apprehensions -for his young friend, but with others it will be doubted whether his -warnings were likely to deter him from, or lead him on upon the path -which he was pursuing. We will not take the pains of solving the -problem, but will only tell what was the real effect which his words -did produce. They instantly suggested to Morley's mind the -question--"Is it possible to win Veronica--to call that fascinating -creature my own--to accomplish that in which so many had failed?" -There were three distinct sources of temptation in those three ways of -putting the question. Passion, fancy, vanity--all raised their sweet -voices together; and although Morley, like Ulysses, tried to stop -his ears against the song of the Sirens--or, in other words; -turned away his mind from the idea--yet, throughout the whole of his -after-communication with Veronica, that question came like a vague -sound, heard, though he would not listen to it--"Is it possible to win -her?" - -The devil never miscalculates in his dealings with human nature, and -in choosing his word, he always selects the right one for his own -purposes. - -He found Veronica alone, standing in one of those beautiful halls -which have seen the fair and the bright of other days, and seem in -their very atmosphere to bear the memories of more poetical times, -even in the steam and rail-road age in which we live. She was -arranging flowers in a large antique vase, and the classic lines of -her beautiful figure accorded well with every object that the room -contained, while an air of intense thought, all too deep for the light -employment in which she was engaged, harmonized the whole--like the -low tones of some fine instrument in the bass, pervading with its -solemn sounds a fine and complicated piece of music. - -Veronica looked up from the flowers as Morley entered, but seemed -scarcely to see him for a moment or two, so intense was the fit of -musing into which she was plunged. Then, with a graceful wave of the -head, and a smile at her own abstractedness, she gave him her hand, -saying--"You have been long; and, as I always do when left alone, I -had fallen into a reverie." - -"A sweet or a bitter one?" demanded Morley. - -"Mixed," she replied, "as all things on earth are. But come, dinner -will be ready in a few minutes, and in the meanwhile I will sing you a -song, which has never been heard by any ears but yours. It is by a -young composer, named Bellini, who will one day be a great man." - -The reader may imagine how the evening passed--music, and poetry, and -deep thought, and bright fancies,--Wit, and Imagination and Feeling, -sporting like three sweet children on the carpet, while the good old -nurses, Judgment and Prudence, were kept at the back of the door. -Twice a fit of musing fell upon Veronica. Was the cause of it fear? -Did she doubt herself? Did she doubt her companion? Who shall say? One -thing is certain--she and Morley Ernstein were equally resolved not to -fear anything, which is, in general, a strong sign of being afraid. It -was late when they parted, and both started when they found how late, -for the minutes had gone so rapidly that each thought the night was -not far spent. They only left each other to meet again the following -morning early, Veronica exacting a promise that Morley would see -nothing more in Venice without her. - -"I cannot refuse your friend's company," she said, "if it needs must -be so; but I shall never like him, even if he were to call me an -angel." - -Lieberg, however, refused to be of the party, saying, with a -sneer--"The housemaids in England, Morley, have a proverb which sets -forth the inconveniences attending upon the number, three; at least, -in reference to social things. Now, what is good for a housemaid is -good for a king or a count, and therefore I will not render your party -of the obnoxious number. So fare you well, and success attend you, -though I am quite willing to take you a bet of five thousand pounds -this moment that you do not succeed." - -"I shall succeed in all I seek for," replied Morley, "for I shall seek -for nothing that is not very easily obtained." - -Once more the gondola skimmed along the canals, and once more Morley -and Veronica, side by side, were borne over the bright Adriatic -waters, throughout a world of beautiful things, and indulging their -fancies to the utmost. Veronica told Morley again all that she had -told him before about the coldness of her nature, and the -impossibility of her ever loving any one; and Morley laughed, and -assured her that the warning was unnecessary; and then they both -smiled and continued the subject of love, till, landing at a palace on -the Grand Canal, they walked thoughtfully into the vacant rooms hung -with pictures beautiful and inestimable in themselves, but falling -into sad decay. The first thing that their eyes rested upon was a -small but exquisite painting of the marriage of St. Catherine, by Paul -Veronese, and before it they paused for several minutes without -uttering a word. - -"It is strange," said Veronica, at length, "that such things should -exist." - -"As love, do you mean?" demanded Morley, with some surprise. - -"No, no, no," replied his fair companion with playful vehemence; "I can -easily conceive love, though I never felt it, and can conceive its -leading one to anything, to excess of every kind, jealousy, revenge, -sacrifices of all kinds--everything, in short, but marriage. Why any -man, because he is attached to a woman, should wish her to make -herself a slave, I cannot understand; but still less, how any woman -can consent to such a folly. She would love him ten times better if -she were not bound by a hard oath; and he would not so soon cease to -love her, as men usually do, if he did not first make her a slave." - -Morley did not reply, but went on musing, and Veronica once more -brought back the conversation to the subject of love, uttered a few -gay and saucy sentences in defiance of the great power, and then fell -into a more pensive train, ending in a fresh reverie. - -Thus passed the day; and when they once more reached the steps of her -own house, she said--"I will not ask you to stay with me to-day, for I -must go to the theatre. You may come and see me there if you like. You -will not often have the opportunity, for I have to-day taken a -resolution to give up the stage for ever. I require it no longer as a -resource, and my feelings are changed towards that profession in which -I once found triumph and delight. I used to imagine that there is -something glorious in embodying a great writer's conceptions, or in -giving voice to the melodious visions of some great composer; but now, -I know not why, I feel sick of it altogether, so I shall only sing the -five nights for which I am engaged, and once more for the poor of the -city. Come and hear me then!--But do not applaud. I would not for one -half of Europe see you clap your hands with the vulgar crowd; I should -not be able to sing a note afterwards." - -Had Morley Ernstein been experienced in love, he would have known the -invariable maxim that the moment a woman separates one particular man -from the rest of the world in her feelings towards him--whatever -seeming those feelings may put on--the gates of the heart are thrown -open for love to ride in triumphant. - -Morley was not experienced, however; he went to the theatre, and he -saw Veronica in one of those tragic operas where song gives intenser -voice to passion. He obeyed her instructions to the letter, for the -deep and breathless interest that he took in the scene, the thrilling -delight that the full, rich, exquisite tones of her voice produced, -left no room for that critical approbation from which springs -applause. He was near enough for her to see him as well as he saw her, -and for a moment, when their eyes first met, her voice sank and -wavered; but then it burst forth again with power only increased, and -the rapturous plaudits of all who were there present, showed that she -had that night excelled all which she had ever done before. - -Morley waited for her coming out, and offered her his hand to lead her -to her boat. She seemed pale and fatigued; he uttered not a word of -praise or admiration, but led her on almost in silence. - -"You must not come to-night," she said; "I am tired and exhausted, so -I will go to bed and sleep. Come early to-morrow, we will see sights -all day, and in the evening I will have some people to meet you at -dinner whom you will like to see. Canova is here, and--" - -"Pray do not have any one," said Morley, "unless you yourself wish it. -I would rather spend the evening as we spent the last." - -She looked in his face by the moonlight for a moment as they stood by -the edge of the canal, and then answered, in a voice tremulous and -almost mournful, "It shall be as you like." - -What will you have, reader? Two, three, four, five days passed away, -and passed in the same manner. Veronica became pale and thoughtful, -Morley Ernstein agitated and apprehensive. - -Lieberg no longer sneered, but sometimes looked in Morley's face, and -once laid his hand on his arm, saying--"In my course through life, -Morley, I have seen more men render themselves miserable by throwing -away happiness that was offered to them, because their vanity was -engaged in the pursuit of that which they never could obtain, than by -any other means. Morley, you know your own business best; but, I -beseech you, let no such vanity affect you, for happiness is never -offered to a man twice in life." - -Morley made no reply, but gazed steadfastly forth upon the blue waters -before him. - - - - -CHAPTER L. - - -On, how often in life, when struggling with temptation, in the -darkness of error and of wrong!--oh, how often would we give the best -jewel we possess, for one ray of light to guide us back to the bright -path that we have forsaken. That light, indeed, is always to be found, -till life itself is at an end, though with more difficulty at every -step that we take onward in the darkness; for the hand of a beneficent -God has planted beacons all across the stormy sea of life, to guide us -into port, if we would look for them. But besides these--these -steadfast lights, which mark out the right track, and should keep us -ever from deviating--there are a thousand circumstances arising, -apparently, by the merest accident, which cross our course, like -wandering boats, to hail us as they sail, and tell us we have gone -astray. It is for some of these that we long when we first find -ourselves chartless, amidst the waves of error. We look not for the -beacons that guide us back, but too often gaze afar for some distant -sail to follow her in hope of help and guidance. - -Morley Ernstein leaned his head upon his hand on the morning after his -conversation with Lieberg, and, with his brain all in confusion, his -heart full of contention, he would have given all he possessed for any -little accident which would have forced him away from Venice. He was -ashamed of his own irresolution--he felt that he was hurrying on to -the destruction of a life of hopes--he felt that he could never love -but one--that his love for her--his pure, high, holy love--even in -agony and disappointment, was better, far better, than the fiery cup -of mere passion; and that though he might know delirious joys and -feverish happiness with another, yet the sorrowful memory of Juliet -Carr was worth a world of such enjoyments. But he was fascinated, the -magic spell was over him--like the glamour, which the Scotch, of old, -attributed to the gipsies,--compelling him to follow wheresoever the -charmer would. Poor Morley, however, had not to contend against his -own passions only, there were obstacles thrown in his way by others; -and though on that very morning he took the same resolution which he -had followed in Paris, to quit the place at once, yet he was prevented -from acting upon it. - -"Lieberg," he said, going down to the saloon, where breakfast waited -him, "you will think me eccentric and capricious; but I much wish to -leave Venice to-day." - -"Nay," said Lieberg, in reply, "that is scarcely possible, for me, at -least; and I think, Morley, you will not, a second time, deal so -brusquely with me, as you did in the French capital. Wait for me, only -till the day after to-morrow; and then, however wrong I may think you, -I will accompany you at once." - -"Why do you think me wrong?" demanded Morley, sharply. - -"If I must speak the plain truth, Morley," answered Lieberg, "I think -you wrong, because I know all that has happened to you. I am aware -that you have been trifled with, deceived, made a sport of, by one who -was not worthy of you, and whose conduct you will one day see in its -proper light; and I am sure, also, that you have now within your grasp -a treasure, which would make you the envy of one half of Europe, and -that you will not take it, out of weak regard for a woman who has -parted with you, in the most cruel manner. I say you are wrong, -Morley, in point of justice to yourself, and equally so to Veronica, -for she is not one to exact from you any ties, but those of love; and -it would be less painful far to part at an after period, if you find -that you cannot be happy together, than to leave her now, when you -have taught her to fancy you everything that she has dreamt of as -forming the being for whom she could regard the whole of the rest of -the world with coldness. But you would be happy! She is too -enthusiastic and devoted, ever to lose that dream; and you would find -in her that love which alone can give you felicity, and that endless -variety which would keep up the charm to the last hour of life. -However, to-day you cannot go, for you forget you left your carriage -at Mestre, with a broken spring, and it cannot be repaired before -to-morrow." - -Strange, that a broken spring should have an effect which no argument -could have! Morley had hardened himself against Lieberg's persuasions; -but the broken spring gave him an excuse for staying, which was valid -to himself; and though it could hold good but for one day, that was -all Lieberg wanted. It was enough to let his words have their effect -in silence. - -"That is unfortunate!" replied Morley; and, retiring to his own -chamber, he sent the courier to have the carriage repaired at once; -but in the meanwhile he thought of all that Lieberg had said, and -dressed himself hastily, to go to the house of Veronica. - -There was one point rested on his mind, more than all the rest of -Lieberg's persuasions. He had alluded to the conduct of Juliet Carr, -almost in the same terms which had been used by Harry Martin. Indeed -the latter had never mentioned Juliet's name; but an eager and -impetuous character, like that of Morley Ernstein, always applies what -others say vaguely, to the subject most interesting to itself at the -time. - -On this point, then, he paused, and pondered with exactly the same -train of thought which Lieberg could have desired, asking himself--"Is -it, then, true? Is it, then, self-evident to everybody but myself, -that my feelings have been sported with, my heart trampled upon, my -love despised, and rejected without reason, without cause? And shall I -cast away my chance of happiness with another, on the account of one -who so treats me?" But then, again, came the question--had he that -chance of happiness with another? Did that fascinating being really -love him? Was he not deceiving himself, in reading all that was -strange and peculiar in her manner as marks of a growing feeling new -to her heart? - -With confusion of mind and thought hardly describable, Morley buried -his eyes in his hands, as if to let the troubled current of ideas work -itself clear. But it was in vain he did so, and finishing his toilette -hastily, he snatched up his hat, and issued forth. In a few minutes -the gondola glided up to the steps of Veronica's house, the door -opened to admit him, the servant did not even go on to announce him. -All spoke as plainly as signs can speak, that he was regarded in that -dwelling as no other person was regarded; that he was one and alone in -the favour of its mistress, and that her feelings spread themselves -around to her dependents. - -He went on up the stairs, then, with a quick step, and a beating -heart; but as he did so, in passing the window of an ante-room, that -overhung one of the canals, there was the gliding rush of a gondola -through the water below, and voices speaking as the boat was pushed -along. It was Italian they were talking; but one sweet voice was very -like that of Juliet Carr, and Morley paused, and trembled. Reader, -though he was fascinated and attracted, though admiration and -regard--ay, and passion, had each its share, Morley Ernstein did not -love Veronica--he could think of another at a moment like that, and he -did not love Veronica! - -He heard her move in the next chamber, however, and went on. She was -paler than usual, but her paleness was not a defect, but rather the -contrary. She looked beautiful, though she was not beautiful, and her -dark resplendent eyes were full of soul and life; while over the whole -of the rest of her face, and of her exquisite figure, there was an air -of languor that contrasted strangely, but finely, with the light and -fire of those dark orbs. - -"You have been long this morning," she said, in a voice, every tone of -which was music. "Why have you come so late?--You are agitated, too;" -and she gazed in his face for a moment, while similar and still -greater agitation took possession of her whole frame. Her eyes -gradually sank to the ground, her cheek became crimson, her hand -trembled in his, her whole form shook in every limb. Morley felt that -she was sinking, and, catching her in his arms, he supported her to -the sofa, at the other side of the room. - -"Veronica!" he said--"Veronica! what is this?" - -"Ask me not--ask me not!" she replied, putting away his hand, and -covering her own eyes. "Ask me nothing, Morley. Tear not away the veil -from my own sight. Make me not own that I have deceived you--that I -have deceived myself. Oh! leave me, leave me, and forget me!" - -Morley tried to soothe her, but it was in vain; Veronica burst into a -passion of tears, and though she left her hand in his, when he took it -she answered him not. - -Thus it continued for some time; Morley remained more than an hour -with her, and it were useless to attempt to describe all that took -place, impossible to detail all that was said. Neither of them knew -what they had uttered when they parted, but the method of their -parting was somewhat strange. Veronica had become calmer, she had even -given to Morley Ernstein the first caress of affection that her lips -had ever bestowed upon mortal man. But whether it was that remorse and -regret even then, like a serpent only half hidden by the roses, -suffered itself, in some vague and shadowy manner, to appear in word, -or look, or action, I cannot tell; Veronica suddenly started away, and -clasped her hands together, exclaiming--"I thought you long, but you -are come too soon! I thought you were here seldom, but you have been -here too often!--Oh, Morley, Morley! leave me now, I beseech you. -Leave me to thought, leave me to reflection!--I will write to you--I -will send to you. Fear not!" she continued seeing a look of pain come -over his countenance; "I will never make you unhappy; but I would only -have time for thought--I would only act calmly--it shall be at your -own choice. Everything shall be at your will; but if you come to me -again, you come for ever.--Leave, leave me, now;--if I say more, I -shall die." - -Morley left her, and strange and great was the agitation in his heart, -as he cast himself again into the gondola, and the boat rowed away. - -It was gliding rapidly up the great canal, when suddenly it passed one -of those large boats, used by the Venetian government to carry -strangers to and from Venice, in communication with the post-houses of -Mestre and Fusina. It was filled with people, and rowed by several -men. There were English liveries, and English faces in it, and in the -principal part appeared a group, which, at any other time, would have -attracted Morley's attention instantly. As it was, it was only when -the boat was shooting fast past his own, that the countenance of -Juliet Carr burst upon his sight, and was gone again in a moment. - -"Stop, stop!" he cried to his own boatman. "Where is that boat going? -Follow it quick!" - -"It is going to Mestre, sir," replied the man. "We can never catch it. -They are going to join the post-horses, and will be gone before we -arrive." - -"Ten sequins, if you come up in time!" said Morley; and away the boat -flew over the waters, like a bird. - -The moments seemed dreadfully long; but what is there that gold will -not do? Mestre was at length in sight, Morley's foot was upon the -shore, and darting at once to the inn--which so many readers will -recollect as a mere hotel for empty carriages--he gazed round for the -party, which must have arrived only a few minutes before him. There -were two chariots standing before the door, with horses attached to -them, ready for departure, and servants lingering round, as if all -were concluded in the way of packing, and nothing remained but for -their masters to appear, ere the vehicles rolled away. Before Morley -could enter the inn there were voices on the stairs, and the face of -Juliet Carr herself appeared, with several others, in the doorway. It -was as beautiful as ever, but somewhat pale, and there was a listless -sadness in the expression, which spoke to Morley's heart, and told him -that the spirit within could find no satisfaction in sporting with the -feelings of him who loved her. Morley strove to be calm, to collect -his thoughts, to tranquillize his demeanour; but every one must know -how vain are such efforts at such a moment. - -He advanced straight towards her, however, and took her hand, while -the first expression that passed over her countenance, was that of -pleasure, succeeded suddenly by that painful shadow which their mutual -situation naturally produced. - -"I must speak with you, for a few minutes, Juliet," he said, heeding -nobody, seeing nobody but her. "You must not refuse me; for there is -much at stake." - -"I will not," replied Juliet, in a low and agitated tone; "I will -never refuse you that which you have every right to ask, and I know -you will never ask anything but what is right. Wait one moment. Let me -speak a word to Lord Clavering, and I will be back." - -She took a step or two forward, to the group of persons who apparently -had gone on in order not to interrupt a conversation which all must -have seen was one of no slight interest; and for about a minute Morley -remained, gazing down upon the ground, with thoughts and feelings -agitated almost to madness. He now learned, with agony, how different -is love and passion, as his heart was torn between the ties that -chained him to Veronica, and the higher attachment that bound him to -Juliet Carr. He might have stood there for an hour, swallowed up in -his own sensations, had not Juliet returned, saying, in a low and -tender voice--"Now, Morley--now!" - -She led the way, and he followed, to the saloon upon the first floor, -where her party had been waiting till the carriages were ready, and -there she paused, supporting herself with her hand upon one of the -tables, and gazing with her tender, speaking eyes, upon Morley's face. -with a look almost approaching to apprehension. - -"Juliet!" he said, after a moment's hesitation--"Juliet! you owe me -some explanation. Let me know whether you are sporting with a heart -that loves you, for your own gratification, or at the dictates of -others?" - -"Oh, Morley!" she exclaimed, her eyes filling with tears; "do I hear -such words from you? Are you not sure--do you not see, that I am as -wretched as you can be?" - -"Then why, Juliet--why?" he demanded; "what is the obstacle? What is -the motive that should make you not only cast away your happiness, but -mine--mine, which was trusted entirely to your keeping, with the most -boundless confidence? If you can assign no motive, I claim you as my -own, by every tie, by every right--" - -"Nay, nay," she said--"not so, Morley! I conceal not that I love you -deeply, truly; but it must be told--I am bound, Morley, by an oath, I -am bound, by a promise which I cannot, which I dare not break, and -must fulfil to the letter, though it condemns me to sorrow and despair -through life!" - -"Juliet," replied her lover, in a tone now calm, but calm with -despair--"I one time fancied that you would be my guardian angel; that -you would form my blessing; that you would be the light of my home, -the guide of my footsteps; would cure me of all that was weak or wrong -in my nature; would prove at once my safeguard and my happiness. How -have I deceived myself! You have taken from me peace; you have -deprived me of hope; you leave me without object or expectation in -life; you withdraw from me all motive for virtue; you plunge me into -degradation and vice!" - -Juliet had turned very pale, and trembled as Morley spoke; but as he -went on to tell her too truly the state of mind to which he was -reduced, and the peril in which he stood, agitation overcame all -habits; she sank upon her knees before him, and clasped his hand -eagerly. - -"Oh, no!" she cried, "oh, no!--I am very, very miserable! Morley, save -me from that despair--save me from the dreadful thought that I have -debased as fine a spirit as ever God sent for trial on this earth. -Morley--dear Morley, believe that I am not in fault; and oh, in pity, -if ever you loved Juliet Carr, yield not to evil, but conquer it, as -we are told to do, with good!--Have compassion upon me, Morley, and do -not, in addition to all the wretchedness that has fallen upon my -head--in addition to the bitter, the everlasting disappointment of my -first and only affections--do not give me the undying agony of -thinking that he whom I have ever loved has cast away his fair name, -and blasted his heart and spirit with evil, on account of this our -sorrow. Promise me, Morley--promise me, at least, to try--promise to -resist to the utmost. Nay, nay, I will kneel here till you do promise; -I will kneel--I will die, Morley, at your feet, sooner than that you -should leave me with such thoughts and purposes as you but now -entertained. Will you--will you promise me? When this poor heart is -broken, you will then believe and understand all that I feel--nay, -strive not to raise me, unless you give me that promise." - -"Well, Juliet--well, I do," said Morley Ernstein; "but you know not -how I am beset." - -"Oh! if you would but forget me," replied Juliet, "happiness might yet -be yours;--every happiness that you have dreamt of with me might be -yours with another. I know it, Morley--I am sure of it; and Juliet -Carr would bless the woman who, as the wife of Morley Ernstein, would -fulfil that vision of peace, and goodness, and delight, in which she -herself must not share. Oh, that I might say all I know and all I -think!--but I must not. Yet the time will, I trust, come ere long, -when your own eyes will be opened to qualities far superior to any -that I possess, and that you will at length find peace and affection -with one upon whom there is no restraint, who can and will--perhaps -_does_ love you, even now." - -Morley shook his head sadly, but without reply. After a moment's -pause, there was a voice calling from below for Juliet. - -"Do not go!" he exclaimed, catching her hand--"do not go!" - -But she withdrew herself gently from him, saying--"I have your -promise! Oh, forget not that you have given your promise!" and with -those words she left him. - -In about an hour, Morley Ernstein came down slowly to the courtyard of -the inn; but during the interval he had hardily heard one of all the -many sounds in that abode of noise, or seen any object but the forms -of his own imagination, though several persons had come in and out of -the room while he was there. His face when he descended was pale and -stern, but there was no longer that absent air about him with which he -had remained standing so long in the midst of the saloon above. He -looked round the court as he came down the stairs, and amongst the -first persons on whom his eye rested, was his own courier, and his old -servant, Adam Gray; the one examining his carriage with a blacksmith, -the other gazing up towards the windows of the inn, with a face -anxious and sorrowful. After speaking a few words, and giving some -directions to both, Morley re-entered his boat, and was rowed slowly -back to Venice. A slight wind curled the waters of the lagune, and the -undulating motion of the boat seemed to soothe him, and to -tranquillize thoughts that were in themselves but too turbulent. - -But his brief conversation with Juliet Carr had produced the effect it -always had upon his mind. There was a magic in the soft melody of her -voice, in the pure, spirit-like light of her eyes, in the grace that -pervaded her every gesture which his heart could never resist; and -there was still greater power over him, in that tone of high truth and -deep sincerity which was felt in all her words and looks. He might -think others beautiful when she was not near; but their beauty faded -away like stars before the sun, as soon as he saw her. He might doubt -others, but when he heard her speak, he could as soon have doubted -truth itself as Juliet Carr. - -As soon as the first terrible agitation was over, although he felt -more strongly than ever that the flower of happiness was utterly -blighted, that, root and branch, it was withered away, yet her -presence and her words had awakened the higher and the holier spirit -in his heart once more, even in the midst of sorrow and despair. The -passions of earth lost their light and their importance in his eyes; -mere material things, and the joys that they bring with them, became -at once to his sight the ephemera that they really are, and principles -and feelings assumed their place, as the only imperishable possessions -of man. It was as if, for a brief space, he had passed the grave, and -had been enabled to see and judge all that this world contains, as, -perhaps, we may see and judge it hereafter. - -Dark and sad had indeed become his sensations, but the purpose of -right was strong within him, and he now turned his mind to consider -what he ought to do, how he ought to act. He had a duty to Veronica to -perform as well as to himself, and steadfastly he resolved to execute -it. It is true that she had aided to deceive him, as to what her own -feelings might be, and that he also had deceived himself; but he could -not wholly exculpate himself of all that had ensued. He had gone on -after he felt the danger to himself and her; he had proceeded when he -knew that it was wrong to proceed, and he prepared to bear the -consequences, whatever those consequences might be, provided they -implied no guilt or dishonour. It took him long to think of all these -matters, reader; but as the boat slowly wended its way back to -Danielli's, he had time for thought, and when he entered the door of -the inn, his mind was fully made up as to his future conduct. He would -be true and honest; he would deal with Veronica without a concealment, -without reserve; he would tell her all, and leave her to decide his -fate and her own. Already, he thought, that fate might be sealed; she -had promised to write to him, and the letter might be now waiting -which would determine all. On enquiry, he found that such was not the -case, and he at once sat down to take that step on which his future -destiny hung. - - - - -CHAPTER LI. - - -MORLEY ERNSTEIN TO VERONICA PLATESI. - -"You promised to write to me, and you have not done it. Had you -written, ere this time, your fate and mine would have been decided for -life. But you have hesitated, and it is evident that there is a -struggle in your mind as well as in my own. I therefore take the task -upon myself of opening to you my heart's inmost feelings, and shewing -you what must be the future, as far as my eyes can discover it. We -have both, I fear, Veronica, deceived ourselves, and unconsciously may -have deceived each other. You were confident in the impunity which you -have hitherto enjoyed, and thought that love could never assail you. I -felt equally secure in the memory of a deep and permanent, though -disappointed passion, and believed that I could never be sufficiently -attracted towards any woman, to seek or to win her affection. You -thought I was sufficiently warned by the words you have more than once -spoken, and I believed you to be steeled against love, or incapable of -feeling. Let us first forgive each other for having mutually deceived -one another, and then let me offer you all that I have to offer, and -ask if it can make you happy. I have heard you speak rash words in -regard to marriage, but I will believe that they were spoken more in -sport than earnest, and put them aside altogether, for you must be -mine by ties we can both respect, or not at all. I offer you, then, my -hand and my name; I offer you the tenderest affection; and I promise -you that, as my wife, you shall never have to call yourself 'a slave.' -But at the same time, dear Veronica, I cannot but tell you that the -first freshness of my heart has been given to another--that I have -loved as man only loves once. I leave it to you to decide whether you -can be satisfied with less. Every devotion, every tenderness, every -affection, shall be yours, that it is possible for my heart to feel; -but still I have loved deeply, passionately, entirely, and though the -dream is gone for ever, its memory will always endure. It is for your -voice to pronounce upon our fate. If you do not like to write at -length, tell me to come to you, and I will conceive your answer given. -At all events, trust to me as a man of honour, that if you become my -wife, my whole days thenceforward shall be devoted to forget all -others, and make you happy. - - "MORLEY ERNSTEIN." - - -He sealed the letter and sent it; and then, burying his face in his -hands, remained for some time in deep and anxious thought. Hour after -hour passed, and there was no answer, till, as night drew nigh, he -became apprehensive, and went to the well-known dwelling where he had -spent so many hours of excitement and temptation. The door no longer -opened as if to a master, and the servant, in answer to his questions, -said that his mistress was unwell. Morley sent in his name, but -Veronica's answer was, that she would write to him. It was not till -the following morning that the letter arrived. - - -FROM VERONICA PRATESI TO MORLEY ERNSTEIN. - -"No man ever understands a woman's heart. It never has been, and never -will be. The language written in that book is unknown to you all, and -you attempt to read it in vain. I did not write to you, my friend--not -because there was any struggle in my bosom, for the struggle was -over--but I was impeded by feelings you cannot comprehend, for man can -never understand what it is to woman to own that she loves for the -first time. Such was the task before me if I had written before your -letter reached me, and it seemed then a terrible one, when I fancied -that a life of joy and happiness was to follow. Such is the task -before me still, even now that I know all your feelings, and see the -wide extent of misery into which I have plunged. And yet, strange to -say, it is less difficult to confess that I do love, when, coupled -with that acknowledgment, I have to bid you quit me for ever. - -"When your letter first reached me, Morley, disappointment and agony -of mind made me unjust. I was angry with you who have in no way -offended, rather than with myself on whom the whole blame must justly -rest. I called your words cold, unfeeling, base. But I soon -recollected what might have been the result if you had really been -base and unfeeling--if, instead of offering me your hand while you -nobly confessed the state of your heart, you had taken advantage of my -passions and my prejudices, made me the paramour of a few months or -years, and then cast me away like a worn garment. My mind soon did you -justice, and owned that you were generous, true, sincere--all that it -is proud to love, and agony to part with. But, Morley, then came the -greatest temptation of all. Weak, weak woman that I am! A voice within -me whispered--Accept his offer, use every means of pleasing, put -forth every effort, twine yourself round his heart with every binding -tie, make yourself necessary to the joy of every hour--become a -wife--Oh, Heaven! perhaps become a mother!--and honour, and virtue, -and gratitude, will all combine to win for you that love which is now -necessary to your existence! Oh, Morley, what a terrible temptation -was there! How vanity flattered, and passion persuaded, and -selfishness deceived! But I conquered at length. I love you--and yet -will never see you more. Never, unless--yes, there is yet one hope -left me!--I cannot, I will not share one thought of your heart--one -remembrance with any woman, on the face of earth; but with the dead I -am not so miserly. If the grave have closed over this affection--if -your memoried love be with some saint in heaven, come to me--come to -me, dear Morley! I will soothe, I will comfort, I will console you! We -will weep together over the tomb of her who is gone, and when I strive -to cheer each hour of your existence, I will think of her and redouble -every effort. But if the air of this earth be still breathed by her -who has taken your love from me, adieu, for ever! - -"VERONICA." - - -MORLEY ERNSTEIN TO VERONICA PRATESI. - -"Alas, Veronica, that I should add pain to pain! Had my heart been -with the dead I would have told you so at once. But still I must not -deceive you; it is not so. She whom I have so deeply loved still -lives, and her own will is the only barrier between us. Such is the -plain truth. - - "MORLEY ERNSTEIN." - - -Morley was not kept long in the faint suspense that still remained -after he had written the last sentences. Ere half an hour was over, a -note was brought him containing those few sad words, "Adieu, for -ever!" - -In two hours more, he and Lieberg were once more rolling on upon their -way towards Bologna, Morley bearing with him some regret and much -grief; but so far happy that he could lay his hand upon his heart, and -say--"Though I may have erred in the commencement of this sad affair, -in the end I have done right." - - - - -CHAPTER LII. - - -If Angerona, the secret divinity said to have presided over the fate -of ancient Rome, could hear the many barbarous and unromantic names of -inns, the Isles Britanniques, the Hotel de l'Europe, the Ville de -Paris, etc., which are daily vociferated in the ancient capital of -empires, doubtless her ears would be more offended than were told, -they were formerly, on any one pronouncing her own harmonious title. -It was to the principal hospitium, however, in the Piazza di Spagna, -that the carriages of Count Lieberg and Sir Morley Ernstein took their -way in the middle of one of those winter months when Rome is fullest. -The streets were crowded with vehicles of all kinds, as the travelling -companions passed along; and so many fair English faces were to be -seen in every direction, that it was difficult for them not to believe -themselves in that part of Bond-street, where, at about four o'clock -of the day, during five months of the year, there seems to be an -inextricable impediment to the advance or retreat of any sort of -carriage whatsoever. - -The first order to their respective couriers, given both by Morley -Ernstein and Lieberg after they had taken seizin of their apartments, -was to proceed to the post-office and enquire for their letters. -Lieberg, indeed, seemed the most anxious, and it is to be remarked. -that he had kept up with England a much more constant and regular -correspondence than his friend. - -During the couriers' absence, however, the two comrades occupied -themselves in different ways, according to their several characters -and habits. Lieberg, with that regular attention to his own comfort -which never deserted him, proceeded to arrange the rooms, of which he -took possession, with scrupulous care of their neatness, grace, and -convenience. His books were assigned to their particular station; -trinkets and ornaments took their place upon one table; implements for -writing and drawing were laid upon another; a few small miniature -pictures of faces pleasant to the eye were displayed where they could -be seen in the best light, and, in short, in half-an-hour the room -looked as different as possible from that which it was when he entered -it, and represented as nearly as can be conceived the interior of his -lodging in Sackville-street. - -Morley Ernstein, on the contrary, walked up and down the saloon, which -was common to both their apartments, with eyes fixed upon the ground, -and a sad and pensive brow. He was arranging the chamber of his own -breast while Lieberg was busy with the contents of his carriage, and -the agitation of all his feelings was too great to admit of his -attending to other things. - -It may be asked, then, if Lieberg--whose passions I have represented -as intense and strong, and whose keen and active mind was always in -movement--if he had no thoughts to occupy him as well as his -companion. Yes, reader, he had; and busy were those thoughts all the -time, but their activity interrupted nothing else, for there were no -contending emotions in his breast--there was no struggle there between -good and evil--no regret for aught that had passed--no hesitation in -regard to what was to come. It is only when feeling rises up to war -with feeling, when principles combat passions, and when, from the -great battle-field of the present, our fugitive thoughts fly from both -hosts of good and evil into the wide surrounding country of the past -and the future, and struggle as they run--it is only then, I say, -that, taken up entirely with the strife within, man can attend but -little to the idle things without. - -What were Morley's sensations the reader may well divine. It is true, -no new event of any importance had occurred to grieve or agitate him; -but every one must have felt, when any abiding sorrow is at the heart, -how a fresh scene will sometimes rouse it, as if from sleep, and with -it all its host of painful memories. - -In about half-an-hour the courier returned with the letters. There -were several to each of the gentlemen; but the two or three first that -each of them opened, seemed to excite very little interest, for they -were read carelessly, in one instance, eliciting a passing smile, in -another, a momentary look of thought, and then cast aside. At length, -however, Lieberg came to one which brought a dark look of triumph upon -his handsome features; and after reading it twice, he folded it -carefully up and put it by, turning his bright dark eyes slowly to the -countenance of Morley, who now stood in one of the windows, perusing -with anxious attention a long letter of several sheets. The young -Englishman's brow was contracted, his lip was curled, his eye -straining on the paper. When he had read one sheet he re-read it, and -then glanced more rapidly over the second and third which seemed to be -written in another hand. - -But we must turn to the first sheet, and give the reader some account -of its contents. It was addressed to Morley by his guardian, Mr. -Hamilton, and conveyed some of the most unpleasant tidings that could -meet his eye, as far as his pecuniary affairs were concerned. - -"My dear Morley (the letter said), I am distressed not to know exactly -where to find you, as I have to write to you on business of a very -urgent nature. I shall, however, address this letter to Rome, trusting -that you may receive it ere long. A fortnight ago I received what I -then considered a very extraordinary application from a solicitor, -informing me that a bill in chancery was about to be filed against you -immediately, for the recovery of the estate of Warmstone Castle, your -title to which he maintained to be bad. At first I felt inclined to -treat the affair with contempt, but upon this legal gentleman calling -upon me again, I saw him, and found that several eminent lawyers had -been engaged in the affair, and consequently that it was more serious -than I at first imagined. At the same time there was a degree of -fairness about the tone of the opposite party, which induced me to -meet them in the same manner, and I have had two interviews with all -the parties in which I find they ground their claim upon the following -assertions. You are aware, I dare say, that your father became -possessed of Warmstone by purchase from a Mr. Barham. The sum given -was ninety-three thousand pounds, and the title at the time seemed -perfectly good. A will, however, and deed of settlement is now -produced, showing that this Mr. Barham did not succeed to the estate -as his father's direct heir, but under this will and settlement, by -which the estate was strictly tied up. The father left but one son, -indeed, the person who sold the estate to your father, but that son at -the time the will was signed was married and had a child, and the will -strictly limits the estate to that child and his children, appointing -in a diffuse manner certain contingent provisions for younger -children, with which we have nothing to do. The youth who now claims -the property is the grandson of the person who sold the estate to your -father, and the papers necessary to prove his claim were discovered, I -hear, by a Mr. Carr, with whom I well remember your father once had a -severe dispute concerning what he believed to be a very nefarious -transaction in which poor Lady Malcolm suffered severely. Thus, as the -character of the finder of this document is undoubtedly very bad, and -the young man himself not the most prepossessing person in the world, -I naturally concluded that the will might be manufactured. The parties -gave me every opportunity of examining the document with my own lawyer -and yours; and your friend, Mr. Wills, whose eyes you know are very -sharp where your interests are concerned, remembered that there is an -old clerk still living who belonged to the house, the name of which is -upon one of the documents. This clerk, after some difficulty, was -discovered, and, I am sorry to say, he remembers distinctly having -seen the will itself, when it was submitted on some legal point to the -house with which he served his time. I have at once caused the whole -case to be laid before the highest legal authorities, and send you -their opinion. You will see that they believe you could keep the -claimants out of the estate for years, but must yield at last, as the -case is quite clear. It is for you to decide; but I think I know how -you will act. The worst part of the whole, however, is still to be -told: the estate has been in possession of your family for thirty -years, and though the fault lies not with you or yours, but in the -fraudulent conduct of the man who sold it, you are held to be -responsible for all the rents which have been received, and which now -amount to more than a hundred and fifty thousand pounds. You would -recover the ninety-three thousand pounds with interest, if the man who -sold the estate had left any effects; but the present claimant comes -in as heir of entail, and his grandfather who illegally sold the -estate died in poverty. Perhaps a composition may be entered into in -regard to these back rents, and, at all events, we must obtain time -for the payment, as, I believe, that after the purchase of the small -estate in Sussex, there remained no more of the guardianship account -than fifty thousand pounds, and it would take ten years of the whole -rents of the Morley Court property to clear off the sum still unpaid. -Unauthorized by you, I have of course not been able to act; but I beg -of you to write to me at once, giving me your own views." - -The banker went on to consider the subject in various ways, but the -terrible fact remained, that one estate was virtually gone, another -deeply encumbered, and that all the long and careful savings of his -minority were to be swept away at once. - -What was the effect upon Morley Ernstein? Very different from that -which might be supposed. The first blow was undoubtedly startling; he -looked round like one bewildered; re-read what Mr. Hamilton had -written; and then turning to the legal opinions inclosed, perused them -accurately. They confirmed but too fully the account which his banker -had given, and Morley Ernstein made up his mind in an instant. After -the first stunning effect of the intelligence was over, it seemed to -give him strength and energy; and merely telling Lieberg that he must -instantly answer the letter he had received, he quitted the room, sent -for his writing-desk, and applied himself busily, and with a steadfast -mind, to put down, in a letter to Mr. Hamilton, the resolutions which -he had immediately taken. - -"My dear Mr. Hamilton," he said, "I will never defend an untenable -cause. The present case is one in which it is very difficult, if not -impossible, for the law to deal justly with both parties, and proves -the utter absurdity of the axiom, which we hear so continually -repeated by lawyers, that according to English law there is no wrong -without a remedy. A notorious and shameful fraud was evidently -committed in the sale of the Warmstone estate to my father, and in the -concealment of the entail. The law has now only to judge which must -suffer--myself, or the persons on whom it was entailed. Perhaps it is -right that I should be the victim; but, at all events, a wrong is done -and suffered somewhere. You have my full authority to concede the -whole question, to give up Warmstone to the rightful owners, and to -make the best arrangement that you can for paying the back rents with -as little inconvenience as possible. All that I have in the funds must -be immediately sold out for that purpose; but you say that there will -still remain about a hundred thousand pounds to be paid. Morley Court -I will part with on no account--not an acre of it; and the other -little estate in Sussex, if sold, would still be but a drop of water -in the ocean. What I propose, then, is this: immediately to cut off -every superfluous expense, and to live as so many do, comfortably and -happily upon the rents of the Sussex estate--seven hundred and thirty -pounds per annum, I think we made it. This is not poverty, my dear -sir, though the change is certainly great to me, but still I can -endure it without a murmur. The Morley Court estate I propose to place -immediately in the hands of trustees, for the purpose of paying off -the debt. In the first place, the house and grounds must be kept up in -the most thorough repair; the game must be properly protected; none of -the old servants or labourers must be discharged. I would rather -deprive myself of every superfluity than such should be the case. As -near as I can recollect, not having my accounts with me, these charges -amount to about eleven hundred per annum. That paid, there will still -remain between nine and ten thousand per annum, to discharge the -amount now claimed, and in eleven years it will be done. I have a -considerable sum with me here, in money and letters of credit; but -there are various things to be paid, some old people and pensioners to -be provided for, and thus I shall soon get through that which I have. -I think these proposals are so fair that they will not be refused, -especially if by any chance one of those extraordinary coincidences, -which sometimes cross us in life, has occurred in this instance, as I -am led to suspect by some words in your letter. Is the young man you -mention a fair-haired, pale-faced lad, with a look of sickly -dissipation about him? If so, I rather imagine I once saved him from -the gallows, and it is his sister, in regard to whom I wrote you a -long epistle. Shakspeare says that our bad deeds turn round and whip -us; but it would seem that our good deeds do so too, if I am to lose -almost all I possess in consequence of having interposed between this -youth and destruction. I am sorry to say that owing to the uncertain -course I have pursued, your letter has been lying here for two -months;"--and Morley went on to enter into the details of the changes -he intended to make in his own mode of living, and to give directions -for all the necessary papers to be forwarded for his signature as -speedily as possible. When he had concluded, he returned to the -saloon, where he found Lieberg seated near one of the windows, gazing -forth in meditation. - -"I am afraid, Morley," said the latter, as soon as he heard his -friend's step, "that you have had bad tidings from England." - -"I have," replied Morley. "You are a strange reader of human -countenances, Lieberg. I thought I had guarded mine so carefully that -no emotion could be apparent." - -"It is my belief," rejoined Lieberg, "that everything that seems -extraordinary may be accounted for with the most perfect ease; so that -there is not a miracle, from the creation of this world down to -Aaron's voracious walking-stick, which ate up the walking-sticks of -all the Egyptians, that could be explained to us in a single word, -only that poor fool Eve, after having eaten half the apple, stopped -short in a fright, and was not wise enough to make even one good meal -of the tree of knowledge. See how everything that we think strange -becomes ridiculously simple when it is explained. You judge me a great -reader of countenances; now, I never looked at your face at all, but -merely read my letters while you read yours, and there found news -which of course has reached you." - -"That I have lost a considerable property," replied Morley, "and have -to pay back rents to an immense amount." - -"And are you aware to whom?" demanded Lieberg. - -"I suppose, from the similarity of the name, and from the description -of my friend, Mr. Hamilton," Morley answered, "it is to that William -Barham of whom you and I know a good deal." - -"To be sure," rejoined Lieberg, with his eye flashing; "I felt certain -that something of the kind would happen at the time." - -"Indeed!" exclaimed Morley, with much surprise; "how so?--why so?" - -"Because," replied Lieberg, with his lip curling, "I never saw a man -caress a scorpion, or put a viper in his bosom, that, sooner or later, -he was not stung. Would to God I had hanged him!" - -"I am much obliged to you for your kind interest," replied Morley, -with a melancholy smile; "but if the thing was destined to happen at -all, I am well pleased that it is as it is--not for the sake of that -weak and vicious young knave, but for his sweet sister's sake. -He will only use his fortune ill; but she will, of course, come in for -a part, and thus be placed in a station for which she was evidently -intended by Heaven. But now, Lieberg, let us speak of something more -immediate. I am sorry to say our companionship must soon end, as I -have assigned the greater part of my property to pay off this -unexpected debt, retaining to myself not more than seven hundred -a-year; all my expenses must, of course, be curtailed, and I can no -longer afford to travel in the way that befits you." - -"Nonsense, Morley," replied his companion; "you can very easily reduce -your expenditure to the scale required, without depriving me of the -pleasure of your society, or yourself of the gratification and -advantage of travelling with so pleasant and instructive a companion -as myself. You can diminish your whole host of lackeys, send your old -grey-headed friend to England, and keep the most useful of your men. -Get rid of your courier, in the very first place, both because you -don't want him, one being quite enough for you and I; and, secondly, -because he is a very bad one, while mine is the best that ever cheated -a master, bullied an innkeeper, defrauded a postilion, or gave a hint -to a bandit. Then, as for the rest, we need not travel more rapidly -than suits your purse; you shall pay for whatever additional horses -are necessary to my carriage, in consequence of your being with me, -but, of course, no more; and, I can assure you, all this may be done -upon even less than you propose. Try, at least,--try for a few months! -If you refuse to do so, I shall conceive that you take advantage of -this circumstance to draw off your forces." - -Morley felt that he could not refuse to make the experiment, though he -certainly had misgivings; but he steadfastly and strictly held his -resolution of curtailing all his expenses, from that very moment. He -explained to his servants, that he had met with a severe loss, and -though a younger and more active attendant might have been preferable, -in many respects, yet he retained no one about his person, but old -Adam Clay, knowing that the good man would feel pained not to serve -him, even though he were to pension him off, and leave him to spend -his latter days in peace. His carriage he immediately ordered to be -sold, and for want of knowledge how far his limited income would go, -denied himself, at first, many an indulgence which he could very well -afford. He divided his expenses into weeks, and almost into days, and -bound himself down to all those small and narrow economies which are -always a painful thing to a generous mind, and are only to be -compensated by the internal satisfaction of doing that which is just -and right. - -Upon the whole, the circumstances in which he was so suddenly placed, -proved beneficial to the heart of Morley Ernstein. He had other -subjects for thought given him, besides the bitter disappointment -which he had endured. He had now matter for activity, energy, -determination, self-denial. He had to keep his spirit from repining at -petty evils, he had often to struggle with his inclinations upon small -points, and that habit gave him power to strive more successfully on -greater occasions. - -The conduct of Lieberg towards him was, apparently, all that was kind. -At first, while he knew that the weight which had been suddenly cast -upon his young friend, had produced a great reaction of the mind, he -tempted him in no degree to go beyond the limits of a strict economy; -but as the immediate effect wore away, he certainly did cast -inducements in his companion's path, to spend money which might have -been spared. Two or three times, too, when tempted suddenly, Morley -forgot his altered circumstances, and yielded without consideration. -He bought things that were unnecessary, he gave an order which he was -sorry for but would not rescind; and Lieberg with pleasure saw a -probability of leading him to overstep the bounds of the income he had -left himself, and plunging him into difficulties which might bring on -more false steps to remedy. - -For the present, however, Morley was safe; for the sum which he had -brought with him from England, was so much larger than he required, on -his reduced scale of expenditure, that he could fall back upon it at -any moment, though he did so with regret. - -Thus passed a month in Rome; and though Morley Ernstein often thought -of Juliet Carr, and wondered whether she was or was not in the same -town with himself, he met her not in public or in private, while the -period of his stay in Rome wore rapidly away. - - - - -CHAPTER LIII. - - -In early youth there are pleasures in all seasons of the year; and as -the schoolboy-story goes, it is difficult to choose between the -glowing summer, with its brightness and its smiles--the sweet spring, -with its soft breezes and its flowers--the brown autumn, with its -fruits, and days of harvest--and the hardy winter, with its sports, -and merry nights. But, believe me, reader, as one advances in life, -the days that we would choose are always warm ones; and putting the -brighter season of the year out of the question, the only difficulty -is, to say which is most grateful; that brief return of summer-like -hours, which generally takes place in the commencement of -November--like that return of prosperity towards the end of life, -which sometimes brightens the fate of men who have long struggled with -adversity; or the burst of warmth and sunshine, which often, in the -early spring, forestalls the summer--like the splendid vision of a -great and glorious career which presents itself in hours of meditation -to the unchastised eyes of youth. - -It was in the end of February, however, with days warmer than many in -June, with a balmy air, and a clear sky, that some travellers, with -whom the reader is already well acquainted, took their way as nearly -as possible by the same course that Morley Ernstein had pursued -towards the classic land, in which he was now sojourning. - -Nor let it seem strange, and romance-like, or make any one doubt the -accuracy of this true history, that three parties of people, without -any common consent amongst them, are here represented taking exactly -the same path to a particular object, when there were five or six -other roads open before them. Ay, but, dear reader, it is the very -question which you are begging. If you remember rightly, at the period -of which we are now speaking, a tremendous storm had swept the Alps, -greatly injuring two of the principal passages; the Splugen was -impassable, neither of the St. Bernards could be thought of, either -very late or very early in the year; and Mont Cenis could only be -passed in traineaux; but the Brenner was, and is passable, and -convenient at all seasons, though sometimes the traveller is very cold -before he gets at it. The convenience of this passage, especially to -an invalid, in the early month of which we speak, was the cause why it -was chosen by the party, to whom we now return; for one of that party -was an invalid. - -It was on one of those warm days of February, then, which generally -brighten a part of the coldest season of the year, that a splendid -green chariot, quite new, with much more silver about it than was in -good taste--with a courier behind, dressed out to the highest pitch of -courierism--and a lady's maid, of a very different appearance, neat, -plain, and staid--drove along one of the roads that traverse the Black -Forest, taking its way towards the small town of Schaffhausen. The -vehicle was nevertheless at the distance of several leagues from that -place; and, as it ascended one of the tall hills which diversify that -part of the country, a wide extent of forest ground was displayed to -the eye, undulating into all the most beautiful forms, with the yellow -sun resting upon the bare, leafless branches of that ocean of trees, -which.--although not a bud could be perceived upon the closest -inspection, nor the slightest promise of the spring--yet bore over -all, when beheld from afar, a kind of misty bloom, which is not seen -in the earlier part of winter, and is difficult to account for. - -The air was so warm that Helen Barham, at the request of her sick -brother--who was now journeying for his only chance of life, towards -that land where so many of the children of the North have laid their -bones--opened the window of the carriage, and let in the breath of -spring, which for a time seemed to revive the invalid. She herself -leant forward, and gazed over the prospect, enjoying it with a spirit -attuned to every thing that is beautiful, but with feelings saddened -by a partial knowledge of her brother's perilous state; though William -Barham himself, like most sufferers from the same malady, was utterly -ignorant of the fate that hung over him, and had that very morning -been cursing the doctors, for some little inconvenience which he had -undergone at the last inn, declaring that if they had let him remain -in England, he would have been well long before. - -Helen gazed, as I have said, pleased but somewhat sorrowful; and, -indeed, there is nothing on earth I know more melancholy, than to look -over one of the bright scenes of nature with an eye fresh from the bed -of deadly sickness. There is a strange and awful contrast in it: it -makes life seem so utterly vain and worthless, that all we have been -taught to prize turns suddenly, like the fabled fruits, to dust and -ashes; and our heart sinks with a conviction of the emptiness of every -thing below, even before it can rise with the consciousness of a -better state beyond. - -Helen gazed, then, and meditated; and her lovely eyes filled with -tears. At that moment her brother's voice said, "Helen;" but for a -short time she would not look round, lest he should see the drops upon -her eyelids, and divine their cause. But the next moment, he repeated -the word "Helen" in a tone that alarmed her, and when she did turn, -his countenance alarmed her still more. His cheeks had become more -hollow, the red spot which had been constantly there for some weeks -was gone, his temples seemed fallen in, and the thin light hair lay -more wild upon his brow than usual. There was a transparent greyness, -too, about the flesh which Helen had never seen before, in him, but -had marked it to well in another; and when once seen, it is never to -be forgotten. At the same time a sort of spasmodic gasping seemed to -convulse his chest, and his hands lay upon his knees. - -"Helen!" he cried--"Helen! I feel very queer. Don't let them go on in -this mist. Stop the carriage--I should like to get out. The air is so -thick here I cannot breathe. Stop the carriage, girl, I say! Those -d--d doctors, if they had but left me in England I should have been -well by this time. That mist--" - -Helen let down the window hastily, and called to the postilions to -stop, but they did not hear her, and it was some time before she could -catch the ear of the courier. At length, however, the carriage paused; -and the door was opened, and, by a great effort, William Barham raised -himself from his seat, and fell forward into the arms of the courier. -The man carried him to the bank, and placed him at the foot of a tree, -but the unhappy youth sunk back upon the grass with his eyes closed; -while the same death-like pallor continued upon his countenance, and a -quick, hard-drawn respiration shook his emaciated frame. Helen sprang -from the carriage after her brother, and knelt beside him, her heart -palpitating with apprehension, and her eyes filled with the tears of -natural affection, no less keen and sensible because he who lay there -dying before her had been so frequently the cause of pain, and sorrow, -and anxiety. She bade the man bring water from the stream to throw -upon his face; but though he went civilly to obey, yet he shrugged his -shoulders, saying, in French--"It is of no use, mademoiselle--he is -dying." - -Oh! of all the many painful things of earth, there are few more -terrible than to stand by the side of a being that we deeply love, -watching the last struggles of departing life, looking round for aid, -consolation, and support, and finding about us none but indifferent -strangers, who view our sorrow and its cause but as a scene upon a -theatre. Though she knew that medical aid was useless, what would not -Helen Barham have given, at that moment, for the presence of a -physician, for the presence of any friend! But all she could do was to -clasp her hands, and gaze through her tears upon the unanswering -countenance of her brother, expecting every moment to see the spirit -depart. After the courier had been gone for a minute, however, a hasty -step called her attention, and then a voice which seemed familiar to -her ear, asking aloud, in English--"What's the matter--what's the -matter?" - -Helen looked up, and the face of Harry Martin met her eyes. - -"Oh, I am so glad to see you!" she exclaimed. "My brother--my -brother,--he is dying, I am afraid." - -Harry Martin said, in his own heart, "And no bad job either!" But -there was too much of the milk of human kindness, mingled with his -rough nature, to let him utter one word which could pain poor Helen -Barham at that moment. - -"I am very glad to see you, ma'am," he replied; "but sorry to find you -in such a state. But why did you take the young man out of the -carriage? The place they call Steig is only two miles off; the doctor -will be there in half an hour, to see our poor old woman who broke her -leg. Better put him in again, Miss! Take the maid with you, inside; -I'll jump up behind, and we'll soon be there." - -The courier came back with some water in his hands, but though thrown -upon the face of the unhappy youth, it produced no effect, except a -slight shudder which passed over his frame. The suggestion of the man -Harry Martin was then followed. He himself carried the almost lifeless -body of William Barham to the carriage, and placed him in it; while -Helen, taking her seat beside him, supported his head upon her arm, -and the door being closed after the maid had entered, they proceeded -on their way. - -The postilions drove quick--much more so, indeed, than any money would -have induced them to do--and in about twenty minutes the chariot stood -before the little post-house. Much to the satisfaction of Harry -Martin, the surgeon who had been attending old Mrs. More was seen, as -they came up, in the very act of getting into his ancient caleche, to -rumble back again to Friedburg, and, springing down, the Englishman -stopped him, and told him what had occurred. The surgeon followed him -instantly to the side of the vehicle, but when they came up, the -post-master, the servants, and the courier were all whispering round, -Helen's beautiful face was buried in her handkerchief, and the dead -body of William Barham lay beside her, with the head resting upon her -shoulder. - -Harry Martin sprang round to the other side of the chariot, opened the -door, and, raising the corpse in his powerful arms, bore it into the -inn. Helen started, and looked round for a moment, as she felt the -weight that had leaned upon her removed; but then bent down her head -again, and once more covering her eyes, wept bitterly, without making -any movement to quit the carriage. In another instant, however, Harry -Martin was at the door again, and gently laying his hand upon her -sleeve, he called her attention, saying--"You must get out, Miss -Barham, I fear, for there is much to be done.--Be comforted, madam," -he added, in a low tone--"be comforted. Ay, and thank God! Remember, -it might have been worse--much worse." - -Helen dried her tears, and entered the inn, where much sad business -lay before her. Luckily, however, she was amongst kindhearted and -honest people, and the only effort that was made to wrong her in any -respect, was on the part of her brother's courier. He was detected in -pilfering and cheating, on the day after the funeral of William -Barham, by the keen eyes of Harry Martin, who, as he himself said, not -knowing the laws of the country, ensured that the rogue should not go -without punishment by thrashing him most terribly on the spot, and at -the moment. He then reported his conduct to Miss Barham, and the man -was accordingly dismissed, so that Helen was left in a small German -village, without any counsel or assistance of the kind and character -which she most needed, to choose her own plans, and to follow out the -curious windings of that fate, which had placed her in so many an -unforeseen position through life. She had been compelled to choose her -course before, in circumstances that may seem to the reader far more -difficult; but, strange to say, now that great wealth was at her -command, and that all the self-named friends and humble servants who -are always ready to bow down and worship at the shrine of the great -god of this world, were prepared to court and seek her, and show her -kindnesses and attentions, not the slightest of which her high -qualities of mind and heart would have won from them had she remained -poor,--strange to say, she felt more embarrassed, more anxious, more -doubtful in acting for herself, than she had felt when left, by her -father's death, to provide by her own exertions food for her brother -and herself. - -At one time, she thought of returning to England; and, perhaps, had -she been a person to consult the dictates of prudence alone, she would -have done so; but alas! reader, Helen Barham was not by nature a -prudent person. She was good, indeed,--she was very good; and she had -strong and fine principles, but it was from her heart that her -goodness proceeded--in her heart that her principles dwelt. On the -present occasion there was some secret longing--some inclination -hidden from herself which made her anxiously desire to go on towards -Italy; and though, at first, she felt some sort of fear at the mere -idea of doing so, of taking so long a journey by herself, of -encountering strange scenes and strange people, and undergoing all the -dangers and difficulties of the road, yet these apprehensions soon -disappeared, and she reasoned down every other objection in her own -mind. - -Nor did many real obstacles present themselves. All her brother's -affairs had been settled before she left England, and she came in as -the clear and sole heir, he having died under age, of the whole -property which they had lately acquired. The steps necessary to be -taken in consequence of his decease, the lawyers were very willing to -carry through without her presence, and Helen having once written to -England and received an answer, openly took the resolution of going on -to Italy--speaking the truth when she said that she herself did not -feel well, and would probably be better for the air of a milder -climate. - -There was a difficulty, indeed, in procuring an honest and respectable -servant, and her experience of the last courier did not tend to give -her any great confidence in that sort of cattle. But she was not -destined to proceed alone. The man Martin and his wife had shown her -that devoted attention and respect, which could only spring from deep -gratitude; and although the good old lady, Mrs. More, was still in a -very feeble and even dangerous state, they had lost no opportunity of -offering to Helen every attention and assistance. The funeral of -William Barham had been arranged and carried through by Harry Martin -himself, who had by this time learnt to converse in a somewhat -barbarous kind of German, and many of the painful particulars which -attend the act of committing our kindred clay to the earth, had been -spared to Helen by his consideration for her. - -When he now heard that she was going on to Italy, he made all the -preparations, took her orders, as if he had been her servant, and -often gazed wistfully in her face, with a look that seemed to imply -there was something in his mind which he wished to speak, without -presuming to do so. He often, too, held long consultations with his -wife; and, in the end, he came one morning suddenly into the -room which Helen had made her sitting-room, saying, without any -preface--"I can't think of your going to Italy by yourself, Miss -Helen. I know you talk of getting a courier fellow at Schaffhausen or -Constance; but bless you, ma'am, he's as likely to cheat you as the -other, and you are going into a place where there are blackguards of -all sorts. Now, it's very possible, ma'am, that, from what you know of -me, you may think I am not a very likely person to take with you, and -that I may just prove as bad as the rest of them you would meet with; -but I give you my word of honour, that I never cheated any one in my -life, though many a time I have done, perhaps, what may be worse. But, -however, I would not wrong you in any way for a great deal more than -the world, and if you were to give me to keep for you a hundred -thousand pound without counting it, you should have every farthing -back again, if I were starving." - -"I am quite sure of it, Martin," replied Helen Barham, with one of her -sweet confiding smiles; "I should not in the least mind putting all I -have in the world in your hands. But what is it you wish to propose? -You could not, quit this poor lady in her present state--" - -"Why, Miss Helen," replied Harry Martin, "that is just what I have -been talking to my wife about. She is not the least afraid of staying -here to attend to her mother, till I go with you to Italy and come -back again. What I want is, just to go along with you, on the outside -of the carriage, to see that nobody does you any harm. You can get a -courier fellow where you can find one, for you see I know nothing -about that sort of business, and should not exactly like such a thing -either; but I will see that he keeps all straight, and when once you -are safe, and amongst people who will love you, and take care of you, -as you ought to be, I can come back again, or Jane can come to me, as -the case may be." - -Helen took a day to consider, but her consideration ended in her -adopting the plan which was proposed, and though she obtained a -courier with a good recommendation, Harry Martin attended her onward -into Italy. - - - - -CHAPTER LIV. - - -That season of the year was approaching when it is necessary for -foreigners to quit Rome, if they hold their life very dearly; and -Morley Ernstein, though certainly with no thought of malaria, had more -than once proposed to Lieberg to pursue their way to Naples, but for -some reason, best known to himself, the latter had always made some -excuse to delay. In the meantime, he surrounded Morley Ernstein with -temptations of all sorts, upon which we will not dwell, having already -displayed the course which he followed, and the means which he took, -and it being unnecessary to repeat nearly the same story. He did not -succeed, it is true, to any great extent. Some few pieces of -extravagance, Morley certainly was led to commit--some few acts which -he regretted,--not many, but enough to give Lieberg encouragement to -pursue his plan with good hope of success at last; for the water does -not more certainly wear the stone over which it passes, than a -constant familiarity with vicious scenes destroys the moral principle -in the heart of man. - -Morley Ernstein would not approach the gaming-table, however, neither -would he drink to anything like excess, though that also was tried by -his dear friend, who well knew, that, as in the case of the Santon, -one folly of such a kind opens the door to vices of all sorts. It may -be asked, what was the object of all this?--it may be said that there -must be a motive for all human actions. Reader, I cannot clearly tell -you what the object was; and Lieberg's conduct certainly seemed more -fiend-like than human. He afterwards indeed uttered some dark words -which were never explained and might be untrue; but if there was not -some deep seated cause of enmity towards Morley Ernstein in his bosom, -arising in circumstances that we know not, we can only guess at his -purposes and motives. To degrade Morley in the eyes of Helen Barham -was certainly one end in view; but besides this, we have seen that his -young companion had on more than one occasion thwarted him in an -object of passion, had mortified his vanity and wounded his pride; and -if we take these causes of offence, acting upon a malignant mind, -together with the natural antipathy that the evil feel towards the -good, and the jealous hatred of a man who sees another preferred by -the being that he loves, the motives may perhaps be considered -sufficient for his conduct. There may indeed have been something -more--I am inclined to believe it was so--but what, I know not. - -The struggle was still going on with Morley Ernstein between -temptation and resistance, when, one day, as he was passing along the -Piazza del Popolo, he saw a magnificent carriage, undoubtedly of -English construction, standing before the great hotel, the name of -which I forget, with two or three servants round the door, and the -usual quantity of lackeys, couriers, and ciceroni at the entrance of -the inn. When his eyes first lighted upon it he was at a considerable -distance, and while he was still some thirty yards, a lady came out of -the hotel with a quick step, and entered the vehicle. The door was -closed, the order given where to drive, and the carriage, taking a -turn, dashed past Morley the moment after. There was an earl's coronet -and emblazoned arms upon the panel, and Morley, raising his eyes to -the window, beheld the countenance of Juliet Carr. How often had he -seen that face with joy--ay, even after hope had passed away; and the -first sensation had always been pleasure; but now, there was something -in Juliet's dress and appearance--something in the magnificence of the -equipage--something, perhaps, in his own pre-conceived suspicions -which made the sight of her he loved feel like a heavy blow upon his -heart. She evidently did not see him, and was speaking with a smile to -some one else who was in the vehicle with her. Morley paused for an -instant to recover breath, and then advancing to the inn, determined -to have his doubts satisfied, he asked an English servant, who was -still gazing after the carriage, whose it was. - -The man was one of those saucy English footmen who are the disgrace of -many of our noble houses; and to any one but a man of Morley's -distinguished appearance he might have made an insolent reply. To him, -however, he answered, in a civil tone--"The Countess of Clavering, -sir." - -"Lord Clavering has not long been married, I think," said Morley, in -as firm a voice as he could command. - -"About a month, sir," replied the man, with a grin, "and he has -already gone back to England to attend the house of peers. That was my -lady who just drove away." - -Morley turned with his heart burning and his brain whirling round; -but, pausing after he had taken a step or two, with a bitter smile -curling his lip, he took out his card-case, and, walking back, gave -the man a card, saying--"That for Lady Clavering, with my -congratulations." - -The attempt to describe the feelings of Morley Ernstein, when the full -agony burst upon him, would indeed be vain. His passionate indignation -approached nearly to madness; his bitter, bitter anguish of spirit -might have tempted him, at that moment, to commit any act which his -worst enemy could wish. He felt it--he knew it to be so--his command -over himself was gone, and he feared to return to the inn where he had -left Lieberg, lest he might be led into some irretrievable step of -folly or of vice. He wandered, then, through the streets of Rome for -several hours, with the hurried pace and unequal step of a man torn by -terrible emotions. He saw nothing that passed him; his eye marked none -of the objects it rested upon; his spirit, busy within itself, seemed -to have lost communication with the bodily senses; and it was nearly -night when he was recalled to himself by some one suddenly seizing his -arm, and exclaiming--"What is the matter, Morley? I have been -following you this half hour, and you do not seem to know where you -are going, or what you are doing." - -"Nor do I, Lieberg," replied Morley. "All I have undergone is not -equal to this." - -"Nay, nay," said Lieberg; "come back to the hotel, and tell me what is -the matter. By keeping your griefs and anxieties to yourself you more -than double them; and not only that, but you are unjust to me. In -striving to suggest those things which might divert your mind without -knowing what it is that weighs upon it, I very often may propose the -worst things when I wish to offer the best. I beseech you, Morley, -tell me all." - -"I will, Lieberg--I will," replied Morley. "I will; but let us go home -first;" and walking quickly on by the side of his companion he took -his way to the hotel, where, casting himself into a chair, he covered -his eyes with his hands for two or three minutes to collect his -thoughts, and then gave Lieberg a hurried and confused account of his -attachment to Juliet Carr, and all that had occurred in the course of -that true love, which had run even more roughly than is usually the -case with the troubled course of human affection. - -After he had brought his narrative up to the events of Venice, he -paused, and Lieberg replied--"I had known something of all this, -Morley, but not accurately, and I see I have made several mistakes in -dealing with you. I did not know that you loved her so intensely. You -may think me light, but my passions and attachments are as strong, or -stronger than your own. I believed that you would have acted, if you -truly loved her, as I would have acted under similar circumstances, -that you would have pursued her, struggled against her resolutions, -combated her arguments, set at nought idle vows, and ultimately won -her for your happiness and for her own. But I forgot, Morley, that you -are less experienced in all things than I am, and though passion may -give the impetus to action, it is experience that must guide it to -success. I forgot this, I say, and fancying that you loved her with -one of those half loves, which may be diverted by pleasures and -occupations, or swallowed up in another attachment, I endeavoured to -lead your mind upon a course it could not follow. Now, however, I am -convinced that you do love--at least I believe so, but I shall soon -see, by the steps which you once take when your eyes are open. You -seem to think that she has true affection for you; and, though from -your agitation now, I suppose you have seen her again, and that she -has once more treated you with the same cruel coldness, if you do love -her, you will pursue her with that vigour of determination which will -sweep away all obstacles. There is a might in real passion to which -all inferior things soon bow, and which woman's heart can never -resist, even for an hour, when once convinced that it is truly -present. But that conviction cannot be produced by any sign of -weakness,--you must show her that you love her, as none but strong and -powerful hearts can love. That you are resolved to possess her, or to -die----" - -"Vain, vain, vain!" cried Morley, in bitterness of spirit. "It is all -now in vain; she did love me; but driven by some promise extorted by -her father, I suppose, she is now the wife of another!" - -Lieberg started, and gazed upon him in surprise, then grasped his arm, -and with his dark star-like eyes fixed on his face, exclaimed--"Take -her from him! What right has he to possess her? Is she not yours? -Yours by the bond of the heart's affection--yours by the tie that is -beyond the earth--yours by the union of spirit with spirit! Talk not -to me of human laws and ordinances, where the soul itself recognises a -rule that is defined. You are her husband, if with the true intensity -of heaven's own fire you love her and she loves you. You are her -husband, I say, and every hour of her union with another is adultery. -Take her from him, Morley--take her from him, be he who he may. -Scruple at no means, stop at no pitiful considerations; it is due to -her as well as to yourself--it is due to her in every sense. Think, -think of the long and lasting misery that she must endure. Do you not -know--are you not sure that every hour she must recollect you? What -human ordinance will blot you out from her memory? What empty words, -spoken at an altar, will erase from her heart the husband of her early -dreams. Morley, if you are a lover--if you are a man--you will spare -that sweet, mistaken girl the hell-fire tenderness of him whom she -cannot love!" - -"Hush, hush, hush!" cried Morley. "You will drive me mad!" - -"You are mad already, Morley", replied Lieberg, "or you would fly to -her at once. You would show her the brow which she loves, scathed with -the lightning of passion, the form of him to whom she promised heaven, -blighted by the consuming hell of disappointed affection. You would -call upon her to remedy the wrong that she has committed--you would -urge her with those words of power, the omnipotent magic of love, to -save you from despair, destruction, and death, and to give you back -the joy of which she has robbed you." - -Thus did he proceed, reader, adding to the words he spoke, that -overpowering eloquence of look, gesture, and tone, which has far more -effect than language, but can never be described. Let it be -remembered, too, that this was addressed to Morley Ernstein at a -moment when the whole powers of his mind were shaken by the agony he -endured, when reason herself tottered on her throne, and despair had -broken down the great prop of all good principle--hope. He sat and -listened, not without a knowledge that there was wrong and evil in the -words he heard; but it was as a man for whom all life's joys and -expectations are extinct, and who, in a moment of frenzied -desperation, takes quietly the cup he knows to be poisoned, and drains -it with a bitter smile. - -At length, however, he rose, and said, "Lieberg, I will leave you for -to-night. I cannot converse with any one--my story is scarcely told, -but a few words more will do it. She is married to a man as old as her -father--to a Lord Clavering--" - -"Why, he is just gone to England!" exclaimed Lieberg. - -"I know it," answered Morley, "and has left her here." - -"Fly to her, Morley--fly to her!" cried Lieberg, grasping his -hand--"fly to her this very night!" - -"No," answered Morley, "no! Whatever I do, I must have time for -thought." - -Thus saying, he left him, and in the silence and solitude of his own -chamber, paced up and down for more than an hour, with the better -spirit within him struggling vehemently against the spell, but too -weak to cast it off by its own efforts. - -"I must fly," he said to himself, at length--"I must fly from this -man, or he will destroy me. I will fly speedily, both from him and -from the presence of her who has cast away my happiness and her own. -To-morrow I will seek for the means, and to-night I will see him no -more. I will throw off his dangerous companionship. To avoid evil is -the next thing to conquering it." - -He opened the door to call his servant Adam Gray; the old man was -sitting at the other side of the antechamber, and looking eagerly -towards the entrance of his master's room. - -"I have knocked twice, sir," he said, "but you did not hear me." - -"I was busy with very sad meditations, Adam," replied his master. - -"I thought so, sir," answered the old man, simply, "for I saw to-day -the person who always causes them--I wish I might say all--" - -"Say nothing, my good Adam--say nothing upon that subject," replied -Morley. - -"No; I must not tell anything now, sir," rejoined Adam Gray, "but the -time will come for me to speak." - -"You said you knocked," continued Morley, gravely; "what do you want?" - -"Why, sir," replied Adam, "there's another person in Rome besides her; -a person whom you will be glad to see, I think; and who will be glad -enough to see you, poor thing!" - -"Who is that?" demanded his master; the expression, "poor thing," -showing him that his old servant spoke of some person he believed to -be attached to him, and making his mind immediately turn to Veronica. -Alas, he never thought of Helen Barham! - -"Why, sir, it is the young lady who was for some time with Lady -Malcolm," replied Adam Gray. "Miss Barham, or Miss Helen, as people -always call her. I saw her maid looking about the town with the -courier, about an hour or two ago, and told them where you were, so -just now the courier brought this note for you." - -Morley ordered lights into his room, and taking the note, read as -follows:-- - - -"MY DEAR SIR; - -"Although, under ordinary circumstances, it might seem strange for me -to ask you to come to see me, yet I feel that it would show a want of -gratitude were I to be in the same city with yourself and not tell you -that I am here. But I have another excuse for that which I acknowledge -I am very willing to do. You are, I dare say, aware, by this time, of -my poor brother's death, and that the property which to my great -regret, he claimed and obtained from you, has descended to me. There -is still, however, some business to settle in regard to it, which I am -sure he would have wished to arrange himself as I propose, if his life -had been spared to do so. In regard to these arrangements, I could -much wish to speak with you, as well as to assure you that I am, ever -most truly, - - "Your grateful, - "HELEN BARHAM." - -"P.S. I will wait at home to-morrow till you call, unless you let me -know that it is inconvenient to do so on that day." - - -Morley answered the note at once, and named the hour, and this return -to the ordinary things of life had some effect in calming his mind -again. Twice he asked himself why Adam Gray had called Helen "poor -thing," but he turned his thoughts away from the images to which the -reply gave rise. - - - - -CHAPTER LV. - - -Pale, haggard, and sick at heart, Morley Ernstein rose from his -sleepless bed, and made preparations of various kinds for that speedy -departure, which all the varied trains of thought that had visited his -mind during the night, had but shewn him to be the more necessary. The -next thing to be done, was to announce his determination to Lieberg, -and for that purpose he proceeded to the saloon, where his companion -was already seated at breakfast. There was a sparkling sort of smile -upon Lieberg's countenance which Morley was never very fond of. He had -often seen it precede conversations that ended or went on in a painful -manner; but it was Lieberg's general plan never to commence any -subject himself, except of an ordinary kind, and on this occasion, as -usual, he suffered Morley to speak first, merely giving him the common -salutation of the morning. Now, as we have shewn, the character of -Morley Ernstein was _intimately mixed of good and evil_, but he had -one invariable quality, which was, frankness; at times carried too -far, perhaps--too far, at least, for his own earthly interest: truth -can never be carried too far for Heaven. In the present case, he not -only told Lieberg his purpose, but he told him why; he acknowledged -that he feared him; that their views on the subject which they had -discussed on the preceding night, were as different as light from -darkness; but that he dreaded lest, under strong temptation, he might -yield, and never cease to regret that he had so given way. - -"I believe, Lieberg," he said, "that you wish me well, and would -direct me to what you conceive to be happiness. My view of that not to -be found jewel, however, can never be the same as yours; and though I -thank you much for your good wishes, yet I must pursue my own plan." - -Morley paid no great attention to his companion's countenance while he -spoke, and yet it was worth observing. There was once or twice a look -of displeasure, and once or twice a look of triumph, especially when -the young Englishman owned that he feared his influence. A scornful -smile marked his lip, too, when Morley spoke of proceeding at once; -but the whole settled down into an expression of calm, well-satisfied -pride, and he replied, attaching himself, in the first place, to the -words, "My view of happiness can never be the same as yours,"--"You -must come to it, Morley," he said--"You must come to it. The time will -be, believe me, when you will find such happiness as mine the only -happiness to be procured. However, be it as you will! Take your own -way! Go to Naples at once, and wait for me there till I come. I will -not be long after you; and then, as I shall have nothing to tempt you -with, you may pursue your journey with me in safety, through the sunny -land of Greece, and perhaps to the brighter and more ardent skies of -Syria. There we shall see whether even your cold blood may not be -warmed into a flame. But where go you after breakfast? Let us, at -least, spend this last day of your stay in Rome together." - -"I fear that cannot be," replied Morley; "I have various things to do, -and have an engagement at eleven; but after two I am at your command." - -Lieberg bit his lip, but made no reply, and Morley had finished his -breakfast as soon as he left the saloon, and proceeded to his own -chamber. It happened, by the merest accident in the world, that after -he had taken his hat and gloves, and give some additional orders to -Adam Gray, he went out of his room by another door, on the side -opposite to that which opened into the common vestibule, and issued -forth from the hotel by a small staircase which he had only used twice -before. It is true that, although he believed Helen Barham to be now -placed by fortune far above Lieberg's pursuit, yet he felt no -inclination to speak of her being in Rome at all; but still, in going -out by the back way, he acted without premeditation, and without ever -dreaming that he would be watched. - -Had he gone through the anteroom, however, he would have seen that -Lieberg's valet was waiting there; and there the man continued to sit, -till Adam Gray came out of Morley's room, when a few words were -interchanged between the two servants. The valet seemed surprised, and -immediately went in to speak with his master; after which the old -man's ear caught a furious imprecation, followed by a sound, as if the -Count in his anger had struck the table a violent blow with his -clenched fist. - -In the meanwhile, Morley Ernstein walked on to the inn where Helen -Barham was to be found, and, on asking for her, was immediately -admitted. She rose as soon as she saw him, a little fluttered and -agitated, but with the mounting colour in her cheeks, the slight -quivering of her beautiful lip, and the dancing light in her dark -eyes, all adding to that loveliness which in itself was incomparable. -She strove hard to be calm and placid, and indeed would sooner have -become somewhat cold than otherwise, but it was a difficult thing for -Helen Barham to be so. I have heard people called creatures of -impulse, but she was a creature of emotions--tender, fine, high, -noble, but still trembling, like a finely-balanced lever, at the -lightest touch. She could not restrain her feelings; and as Morley met -her, she looked so happy with her resplendent beauty, with all her -wild grace, with light, and soul, and tenderness in her eyes--she -seemed to possess so much of everything that God can give to content -the utmost expectations of a human creature, that Morley was forced to -ask himself again why it was the old man had called her "Poor thing!" -Morley fell into a very common error notwithstanding all his own -experience. It is, that we always make a mistake as to the source of -happiness. It springs from within, and not from without. It is the -water that gushes from the rock of our own hearts, not the rain that -dimples the stream, adding but a few drops to the current. - -"I am most delighted to see you," said Morley, taking the hand she -offered; "and though I know you must feel the loss of your brother -deeply, yet I must still congratulate you on your accession to the -fortune you now possess. I was always sure, my dear Miss Barham, that -you would do honour to high station and extensive means, and I thank -God that I see you now possessed of them!" - -"If I had had either voice or choice in the matter," replied Helen, -earnestly, "I never would have become possessed of them in such a way. -A very small portion would have contented me; and the superabundance -which I do possess is rather a burden than otherwise, especially as I -feel that, to have taken it from you, is to have turned our heel -against our benefactor." - -"Not at all," answered Morley Ernstein. "It was perfectly your -brother's right; and as soon as I became convinced that it was so, I -could not have held the estate for a single hour. Neither did your -brother behave at all unhandsomely in any of the proceedings regarding -it--" - -"Nay--nay," said Helen, holding up her hand--"though he did not, Sir -Morley; and I believe would ultimately have done what was right, yet -his lawyers did behave unhandsomely in his name; but I have -immediately taken means to remedy what was amiss." - -"I do not know what you have done, my dear Miss Barham," said Morley, -with a smile; "but I trust and hope that your kind and generous -feelings have not induced you to undo anything that has been settled. -What the law gives you, is yours; and as far as I am concerned in the -matter, I cannot consent to your making any sacrifice--honour and -common honesty forbid me; and now, having said this, let me enquire -what it is that you have done?" - -Helen was sitting beside him on the sofa, and for a moment she raised -her bright eyes to his, with a look of internal satisfaction mingled -with regard, which, if Morley had chosen to translate it, might have -been read--"I have done that which gives me the highest delight, -because you must and will approve it." But she did not answer exactly -in those words, and withdrew her eyes again immediately, with a sigh, -and a look of sadness, as if she saw something in Morley's -countenance, which she had not remarked before. - -"What I have done," she said "is only what is just and right. There -has been no generosity--no flights of what people call fine feeling in -it, and I think you will confess at once that it is so, and not give -me the greatest pain, by refusing to accede to that which your own -heart will tell you is just, merely because it is proposed to you by a -person whom you have already loaded with benefits. I think," she -added, in a lower, but not less eager tone, "you would not willingly -make me very unhappy." - -"God forbid!" replied Morley, warmly. "What is there that I, would not -do to make you happy?" - -Helen's cheek became a little pale, and, for a moment, she did not -answer; but finding that he paused also, she said--"The fact is, -simply, this: the property which my brother claimed, and recovered was -bought from my grandfather, who, I am told, was the most careless and -thoughtless of men. He did not, I am sure, intend to defraud your -father, and acted without consideration. But, at all events, your -father paid ninety-three thousand pounds for the estate; and the -lawyers tell me, that if my grandfather had been still living, you -could have claimed and recovered that sum from him. It is but just, -then, that I should pay it back to you, and I have told the people in -London, to place it immediately in the hands of your friend, -Mr. Hamilton.--Nay, now," she added, "do not look grave and -thoughtful--your heart tells you that what I propose is right." - -"But--" said Morley Ernstein. - -"Nay, nay," interrupted Helen, playfully; "I will have no buts. Tell -me, Sir Morley, in former days--to remember which, connected with your -kindness, will always be most delightful to me--did I not ever do what -you told me, as soon as I was convinced that it was right?" - -"You did, indeed," said Morley, with a smile; "but I wish first to be -sure whether this is really right?" - -"What would you do if you were in my place?" demanded Helen. - -"As you have done," answered Morley. - -"Ay, and perhaps more," said Helen. "You would do all that I should -wish to do, but dare not offer, because I know you would reject it -angrily." - -"Not angrily--not angrily, with you," exclaimed Morley; "but firmly. -You have already done as much, and more, than the most generous -feeling could dictate; and as I believe it is a pleasure to you to do -it, I will not refuse to accept what you propose, though I see that -you do not know the whole circumstances. Let me tell you, then, my -dear Miss Barham, what they are, in some degree; for if you feel a -pleasure in doing a generous act, the satisfaction will be doubled -when you know that act relieves one who has the greatest regard for -you from a severe embarrassment." - -He then explained to her, that the only means he had found of paying -the large claims against him, were, to assign the rents of almost all -his landed property, to dismiss his servants, to curtail his -expenditure, and to live upon an income comparatively small and -pitiful. Helen's cheek first grew pale, and then burned with the hue -of crimson; and as he went on she burst into a bitter flood of tears, -exclaiming--"And we have done this!--we have done this!" - -Morley took her hand, and pressed his lips upon it, saying--"Others -have done it, and were not to blame. You have remedied it all, and how -am I to thank you?" - -"Oh, no, no!" she exclaimed--"I have not remedied it all; I fear that -I still am robbing you--robbing you of that fortune which you used so -nobly; and that, too, when I owe you everything--life, and more than -life; for in the state I was when you found me, I could not have lived -long, and should not only have died, but have died with shame and -misery!--Ah! you cannot tell, Sir Morley," she continued, "how much -sooner I would be a pensioner upon your bounty for a small pittance to -supply my daily wants, than take from my benefactor that property -which I cannot but feel of right is his." - -"Not so, indeed!" answered Morley Ernstein; "it is not mine, Helen. It -was of right your brother's, and is yours. I scarcely know, indeed, -whether I am justified in not following out the plan that I had first -proposed, and paying you all. But as you wish it, I will not insist -upon that point; and now, tell me how you are, and let me hear all -that has happened to you, since we met." - -"Why, I am well," replied Helen, wiping away the tears which still -felt inclined to flow; "well, and yet not quite well. But speak of -yourself--I scarcely dare to ask how you are, for I see that you are -ill, Sir Morley." - -"I must not have you call me by that name," said Morley Ernstein; -"after the strange way in which our fate has been linked together, we -can but look upon each other as brother and sister; and if you will -let me, Helen, I will be a brother to you instead of him that you have -lost." - -"You have been a better brother already," replied Helen; "but you do -not say, if you are ill; and yet I am sure you are, for you are so -changed." - -"I have had much to pain me, Helen," answered Morley Ernstein; "very -much." - -"I know it--I know it," said Helen; "and it has been our -doing--Morley." - -The last word she pronounced after a moment's hesitation, and in so -low a tone that he scarcely heard it; but yet the blood came up into -her cheek, as if she had told him that she loved him. - -"It was not on that account, Helen, that I have grieved," he replied. -"Fortune could never disturb my night's repose; but there have been -many other things pressing heavily upon my mind." - -Helen cast down her eyes, and replied not; but the paleness that crept -over her countenance might well shew that there were some emotions -busy at her heart. Morley Ernstein was silent, too, for there was a -light breaking upon him, to which he would have fain been blind. At -length, Helen spoke, saying, with an effort--"I was in hopes I should -have heard of your being very happy." - -"It is quite the reverse, Helen," he answered. "Those bright days, -which you once saw me enjoy, are past away for ever, and I have -nothing left but to fly from myself, and from her who might have made -my happiness, and has made me miserable." - -"Oh, no, no!" cried Helen; "do not say so." - -"Yes, indeed!" replied Morley Ernstein. "It is on that account I quit -Rome to-morrow. Are you aware that she is in this city?" - -"Who?--Juliet Carr?" exclaimed Helen. - -"She, who was Juliet Carr," replied Morley, bitterly; "now, Countess -of Clavering." - -Helen started from her seat, and clasping her hands, gazed wildly in -Morley's countenance. "It is impossible!" she cried; and then sinking -down upon the sofa again, she buried her face in her hands, murmuring -some words that Morley did not hear, while the crimson was seen dying -her temples, and her fine small ear. What were the mingled emotions -that at that moment possessed her?--Who can say? She herself was not -aware; so strange, so complicated, so contending were they. - -The first thing that roused her, was Morley's voice: "You say it is -impossible, Helen," he replied. "I begin to think all things possible. -When those whom we love best, and to whom, of all the world, we have -given least cause to treat us ill, destroy our peace, betray our -trust, cast away our love, and even sacrifice themselves for sordid -motives, what may we not believe next?" - -"O, you wrong her--you wrong her!" cried Helen Barham, raising her -head, and speaking with enthusiastic eagerness. "You wrong her, -Morley, most assuredly. There is something in this that you do not -know--some cause she has for her conduct which will justify it, I am -sure; or, at least, will palliate it. She may never be yours, but you -must not cease to esteem her. I will take upon me to say, that she has -not acted thus without some powerful, some overpowering motive." - -"You judge her by your own heart, Helen," replied Morley. "No coronet -would tempt you to such a union as this." - -Helen would not be ungenerous, even by remaining silent, and she -replied, eagerly, "You are wrong--you are wrong. She does love -you,--she has ever loved you. She loves you still, whatever duty may -say; and, though she may struggle to forget you, bound as she is to -another, yet the struggle will be in vain, and will be more than a -sufficient punishment for any weakness she may have shewn." - -Poor Helen Barham knew not that whilst she fancied she was but doing -justice to Juliet, and soothing the agonized feelings of Juliet's -lover, she was by every word giving force and vigour to the most -terrible temptation which Morley had ever undergone. There seemed to -be something peculiar in Lieberg's evil suggestions--a something which -made them resemble those of Satan himself. Every accidental -circumstance gave them additional venom, and even words which were the -most repugnant to all that is wrong, stirred them up in greater -virulence and power than ever. Morley put his hands over his eyes, as -if to shut out the temptation; but after a moment's pause, he rose, -saying--"Helen, I must leave you. I will set out for Naples this very -day, if it be possible. I take it for granted, that your steps will -soon be bent thither also. You must let me know when you arrive, for I -believe the only society from which I could derive comfort and -consolation, would be yours." - -As he spoke he took Helen's hand, bidding her adieu, and she left it -in his, gazing with an anxious and sympathizing look in his -countenance, and thinking more of his sorrow than of the sweet and -gratifying words that he addressed to herself. - -"I will see Juliet," she said, "before I come. I believe that I can -induce her to tell me all. You shall hear her motives as she gives -them to me, for I would fain restore to her your esteem." - -"Let it be as it is, Helen," replied Morley, solemnly; "for it is less -dangerous for me to despise her than to love her still." - -Thus saying he left her, and was hurrying home, with his thoughts so -agitated that he scarcely remarked a man who stood in his way at the -bottom of the stairs, till Harry Martin stopped him, by pronouncing -his name. - -"I am afraid, Sir Morley," he said, as soon as the other paused--"I am -afraid I gave you some offence by what I said to you in Germany, about -some one that you trust. Now I--" - -"You did, my good friend!" replied Morley; "but I was wrong, and you -were right. All that is over--my eyes are opened, and I trust no -more." - -"That's right--that's right!" cried Harry Martin. "All may go well, -then, and you may be as happy as the day is long; for if ever man was -loved by an angel, you are, by one not very far from here." - -"Hush!" Cried Morley; "hush! You are mistaken altogether;" and, -turning away, he hurried back as fast as possible to his own hotel, -and quitted Rome ere the day was many hours older. - - - - -CHAPTER LVI. - - -A month passed in Naples, and Morley strove to drown recollection, to -drown thought, to drown the ringing echo of the tempter's words, to -quell, by any means, the struggle that still went on in his heart--the -longing, eager, ardent desire to fly to Juliet Carr, to tell her, with -all the impetuous madness of intense passion, that he loved her still, -to shew her that she had destroyed his peace for ever, and to leave -her to decide, whether he were to live with her or to die by his own -hand. He knew that it was frenzy--he knew that it was crime. With as -much courage as any ancient warrior ever strove, he fought against the -host of dark temptations that beset him, in the vain hope that time -would mitigate the intensity of his feelings; but time brought no -balm--his heart knew no relief. The gay and gabbling crowd in the -ball-room, the palace, and the theatre, distracted not his attention -for a moment. With difficulty, even for a few minutes, did he fix his -attention upon all the objects of ancient art, which formerly would -have amused his fancy. The political strife of various parties which -at that time convulsed all Europe, scarcely roused his mind from the -bitter memories that were in his heart to give it even a thought; and -Morley's sole delight soon became to sail over the deep blue sea of -the bay, gazing in melancholy listlessness upon the waters, and -longing for a quiet abode beneath the rolling of those sunshiny waves. - -It soon, however, grew a weariness and a pain to him, to be forced, -even during a part of the day, to see and hear the merry multitudes of -the siren city. The coarse and glaring vice, the utter moral -degradation of almost all classes, the miserable laziness and -destitution of the lower orders, the frivolous wickedness of the -higher, all became an offence to his eyes; and he determined, at -length, to get rid of the whole and to remove to some distance from -Naples, although there was one employment for a part of his day, which -could not be, without difficulty, obtained anywhere but in the city. -It may seem strange that this his sole occupation was the examination -of almost all the principal London journals. But there was only one -part of those journals into which he looked--only one name that he -sought for. It was the name of Lord Clavering. From time to time, he -found it amongst those of the most diligent attendants upon -parliamentary duties. Morley read no more that day when he had once -seen the name. He perused not the speech to which it was attached, nor -examined the nature of the petition which the earl presented. He could -not hate him more than he did, and he did not wish to hate him less; -but still, to know that he was afar, that he was not in the same land -with Juliet Carr, was something. - -He resolved, at length, as I have said, to quit the city, and take up -his abode at such a distance that he could continually send into -Naples for intelligence, without setting his foot within the walls -itself. The generous though just act of Helen Barham having removed -the necessity for economy, Morley could indulge at ease whatever -fancies suited his humour best at the time; and, rowing along the -shores of the bay towards Sorrento, he pitched upon a solitary villa, -not far from that place, towards Castellamare as the house be should -like to hire. It was seated upon the high rocky ground, and was -visible from the sea; but on enquiring at the latter town, he found -that there was no road to it but a mule-path, and that it was -inhabited by the Italian family to whom it belonged. The latter -difficulty, however, was speedily removed; gold was an object to the -Italians, and none to Morley; and, while he had his boat, he needed no -other road but the waves. - -In this new abode, then, was he soon fixed, and certainly a lovelier -scene never soothed the disappointed heart. The view over the bay was -beyond description; a deep indentation of the shore brought the -profound waters up to the very foot of the rock under the villa, and -one of those arching caves, of which there are so many on the -Sorrentine shores, admitted the sea still farther, so that a sight of -steps from the house itself, similar to those near the _villa -Cocumella_, led down by a subterranean passage to the verge of the -bay; and Morley's boat could be brought in under the very crag on -which his dwelling stood. A little farther on, however, a winding -path, ornamented by some tall cypresses, led down to the shore, which -was strewed at that spot with ruins of various ancient buildings, and -covered almost to the edge of the sea with all the wild flowers and -rich creeping plants of that climate, while here and there the -gigantic aloe had planted itself, giving a peculiar character to the -picture, produced by no other European plant. High hills lay up -behind; and, along the shore on both sides, appeared all that variety -of rock, and precipice, and smooth descent, and soft sloping bank, -which every one who has rounded that headland must remember. We will -not dwell farther upon a description of the place, but will only add, -that the usual drawback to all Italian scenery was found not far off, -as one approached Sorrento, in numerous stone walls and narrow roads, -forming a sort of labyrinth, which required some degree of knowledge -and experience to escape from, in the attempt to find freer space upon -the mountain tops beyond. - -Here Morley dwelt in comparative peace for about a fortnight, with his -establishment restored to its former scale, and moreover increased by -six rowers for his boat, to whom one of the cottages in the vineyard -was assigned as an abode. Although so grave and sad, he had contrived -to make himself loved even by the light-hearted Neapolitans in his -service. There are few people more really sensible of dignified and -graceful manners than the lower classes; and as we have already shown, -there was a peculiar charm in the young Englishman's deportment, which -only derived a greater interest from the gloom that had fallen over -him. He was kind-hearted, and generous, too, and the only efforts that -now seemed to interest him strongly, were those tending to increase -the comfort and happiness of the people about him. He taught them to -obey him promptly, to attend, even in their lightness, to his smallest -sign or word, but he taught them also to respect, admire, and love -him. - -Old Adam Gray, too--though, to say sooth, he was not liking the -Italians--was a favourite amongst them, and they were always ready to -shew him his way hither and thither, keeping up with him as he went -along--partly by signs, partly by words--long conversations, of which -neither party understood one third. - -It was thus one day, while his master was out sailing in the bay, that -the old man had found his way to Sorrento, accompanied by one of the -Neapolitan servants, named Giacchino, who understood somewhat more of -English than the rest. He had gazed about upon the houses and villas, -had gone down to see the remains of antiquity that protrude in some -places from the cliffs, and had bought a basket of fruit from one of -the old women of the town, when suddenly--while he was yet counting -out the interminable small pieces of coin, which seem invented, in -several of the Italian States, for the torment of the passing -traveller--he dropped a whole handful of them, exclaiming--"Good -heavens, Mrs. Martin!--is that you? What could bring you to Italy?" - -The person he addressed was a very pretty young woman, dressed in -mourning, and her reply was simple enough, that she had followed her -husband thither. - -"Oh, I understand--I understand!" replied Adam Gray; "though how he -got out of York Castle I do not comprehend." - -"No, you do not understand it at all," said Jane. "My husband got out -of York Castle by being pronounced innocent. But if you will come up -to the villa just upon the hill, he will tell you the whole story -himself. He came here out of Germany with dear Miss Helen, and I think -he would like to see you, for we told him how kind you had been." - -Without more ado, Adam Gray picked up the fallen money, and followed -the young Englishwoman, leaving his Italian companion Giacchino -talking with a number of men in pointed hats, and somewhat Calabrese -attire, who had come in with the apparent purpose of selling fruit and -small birds. When Giacchino joined them, however, they were engaged in -gossiping away the time with a man in the habit of a courier, whom -Adam Gray had seen more than once before loitering about the doors of -their inn at Rome, where he had filled the post of occasional _valet -de place_. - -We need not pause upon the interview between Adam Gray and the party -at the villa to which he was conducted; but he found that Harry Martin -was still in attendance upon Helen Barham, not being able, he said, to -make up his mind to leave her, always fancying that some mischief -would happen, if he were not near to take care of her. - -"It's a strange whim of mine," he said, "but I can't get rid of it. -However, I know that Miss Helen sent a note to your master at Naples, -yesterday, and when I can see her with plenty of kind friends about -her I shall be content, and think her safe." - -Adam Gray remained for a full hour at the villa, and, before he went, -begged to pay his respects to Helen herself, who sent a message by him -to Morley, telling him where she was, and adding that she had -something of importance to communicate to him, if he could call upon -her the next day. - -On returning to the spot where he had left his companion, the old man -found the Neapolitan still laughing and chattering with the rest, and -they proceeded on their way homeward together, both somewhat -thoughtful, though the natural buoyancy of the Italian's spirit would -not suffer him to bear the silence quite so long as the native of a -more taciturn land. - -"Those fellows will do some mischief before they are out of Sorrento," -he said; "and that devil of a courier will lead them into no good." - -"Ha!" cried Adam Gray, "do you know those people, then, Giacchino? -Pray who may they be who are so mischievously disposed?" - -"Why, that tall, good-looking fellow," replied the man, "was the head -of the banditti that used to rob about Nocera and Salerno, and -sometimes almost up to Portici on the other side. He gave it up of his -own accord when the bands were put down, and is now a very good -gardener. The rest are friends of his," he added, with a shrewd -gesticulation, which conveyed the full sense of what he meant. - -"And the courier?" demanded Adam Gray. "Pray who is he?" - -"Oh, he has come with some Englishman," replied Giacchino--"a count -something or another, which would break an Italian's teeth to speak." - -"There you are mistaken," exclaimed Adam Gray. "We have no counts in -England, Master Giacchino, though there are viscounts enough in all -conscience. But pray what was he doing with the banditti?--going to -sell his master to them?" - -"No, no," replied Giacchino; "he said his master would like to see -them, and talk to them. It seems that he is fond of such fishes." - -In such conversation they plodded on their way, till they reached the -dwelling of the young Englishman, and the old man, leaving his -companion below, proceeded through all the open doors and corridors of -an Italian house, till he reached the room where Morley usually sat. -He entered without ceremony, but was not a little surprised to find -that his master was not alone. - -Morley was standing with his hand leaning on the back of a chair, his -brow knit, and his teeth closed, while Lieberg appeared within three -or four paces, with his arms folded on his chest, his head erect, and -his dark eyes flashing like a thunder-cloud. What had previously taken -place, no one ever heard, but it was clear that angry words had -already passed between them. - -"Your language, Sir Morley Ernstein," said Lieberg, "is well nigh -insulting, and must not be repeated." - -"I have told you, Count Lieberg," replied Morley, "the plain truth, -for which truth you pressed me. Having to thank you for some kindness, -nothing can be farther from my wish than to insult you; but, at the -same time, you must not urge me too far. Your advice I relish not; and -though I do not, as you insinuate, pretend to anything like perfect -purity of thought, word, or action--God forbid that I should be such a -hypocrite!--and though I may yield to temptation, when it comes upon -me, as weakly as any man, yet I will never calmly and deliberately lay -out a plan for seducing a woman from that faith to which she has sworn -at the altar. When I said that I should consider myself a villain if I -did so, I had a reference to my own feelings and my own principles, in -direct opposition to which I have no right to act. You see the matter -in a different light, and I pretend not to criticise or to censure -your views or your actions. The temptation may come, and I may fall, -as you say; I fear it might be so--I am sure it might be so; but I -will never seek the temptation myself." - -"You will repent;" replied Lieberg, still frowning on him--"you will -repent your language towards me this night.--I am better as a friend -than an enemy." - -"You drive me, sir, to say harsh things," answered Morley sternly; -"but I fear you less as the latter than the former. One word more, -Count Lieberg, before you go," he added, as Lieberg turned towards the -door. "I have this morning received a letter from a lady, whom I find -you have seen oftener than I believed. I do not understand all that -she means; but Miss Barham places the name of Count Lieberg so close -to the term--'a man who persecutes me,' that, as we part apparently -not soon to meet again, it may be as well to say, I look upon that -lady as a sister, will protect her as such, and will treat any man who -insults or injures her, as I would one who wronged my nearest -relation." - -Lieberg's lip curled with a sarcastic smile. "Your knight-errantry, -Sir Morley," he said, "may lead you into scrapes; but you are a very -wise and prudent young man, and doubtless will extricate yourself -delicately from all embarrassments. As you have added a word to me, -however, I must add one to you. It shall be a short one, for the -evening sky is beginning to turn grey, and I must seek a more -hospitable roof. It is this--do not cross my path, or I will blast you -like a withered leaf; and so, good night!" - -With his usual calm, firm step, Lieberg descended the stairs, and -quitted the villa. Morley's eyes flashed; but old Adam Gray hastened -to interpose telling his master all that he had seen and heard during -that afternoon. - -"This is very strange!" said Morley, musing. "Send the man, Giacchino, -to me--or, stay, ask him yourself, if the courier mentioned was that -of Count Lieberg. He may be meditating some harm to that poor girl, -and yet I must not--dare not go to Sorrento myself. Go, good Adam, and -enquire. It is all very strange!--That Juliet should come to Sorrento, -when she knows that I am so near!--It seems as if it were my fate to -be doomed to do wrong, even when I labour to avoid it.--I will not -go!" - -Old Adam Gray came back in a moment, saying that Giacchino was quite -sure that the name of Count Lieberg was the one he had heard; and -Morley seriously alarmed instantly took means to warn Helen of the -vague but not unfounded apprehensions which he entertained. He sent -the peasant who farmed the estate attached to the villa, and two of -his own servants, over to Sorrento, with orders to stay with the young -lady, and give her protection during the night; and after explaining -his motives for this step, in a short note, he added--"I would have -come myself at once, but that you tell me Juliet and her party from -Sicily are about to join you this day at Sorrento. Dear Helen, I must -never see her more, for I dare not trust myself. I am tempted in a way -that you cannot divine; and I must fly from that temptation, lest even -greater misfortunes fall upon her and me. Keep the men I send, with -you till Juliet comes, after that, her servants, added to your own, -will, I trust, ensure your safety." - -"Now dispatch the people quickly, good Adam," said Morley, giving him -the note; "but, above all things, bid them keep a horse saddled, and -let me know if anything important occurs at Sorrento. They can be over -here in less than ten minutes. Have all our men prepared for whatever -may occur; and see if there be not some more horses to be procured in -the neighbourhood. If so let them be brought in. We might have to ride -over in haste." - - - - -CHAPTER LVII. - - -Lieberg had not said true when he declared that the evening sky was -beginning to turn grey. It was purple that it grew, that intense deep -purple which is only to be seen in southern skies, where the sunshine -seems to infuse a tint of gold into the azure of the heaven, rendering -it like the lazuli stone in which the sparks of the metal may be seen -through the fine hue of the gem. More and more red was every moment -mingled with the blue, till the western horizon, where it lay upon the -waters, glowed as if with intense fire, which seemed to catch the -waves themselves and all the distant sea was in a flame. The splendour -of the hour, however, was unseen by the eyes of Morley Ernstein--but I -use, perhaps, a wrong expression, it was not altogether unseen; and, -though I am so near the end of my history, where events press for -attention rather than scenes or sensations, I must still pause for a -moment to show how he saw without seeing, and felt without perceiving. - -When Lieberg had left him, and his orders had been given, he went -forth from the house with his heart full of strong emotions. He stood -upon the promontory over the cave, and gazed, or seemed to gaze, -across the wide world of waters, lighted by the setting sun. Though he -had heard many things that day to interest and occupy him--though he -had learned that Veronica had abandoned the world and taken the veil, -and that Juliet was once more drawing near,--his mind was fixed upon -himself, and upon the act he had just done, an act as great and -important to him and to his future fate as if he had conquered a -kingdom. He had broken a tie, bound round him by circumstances with -such close and intimate folds, that it had appeared as if it could -never be totally dissevered. He had cast off a fatal companionship for -ever, which had endured already too long. By a strong effort of -determination, he had repudiated a society which seemed destined to -corrupt all the pure current of his blood, like the envenomed garment -of Alcides, though happily for himself he had thrown it from him -before it had entered into his flesh. - -He stood, then, upon that promontory with his head erect, and his arms -folded on his broad chest; feeling that he had done a right and a -great act, that he had executed a strong and high determination, and -deriving from the very fact the conscious dignity which the powerful -performance of a wise resolution always imparts to the human mind. He -marked not the sunset and its splendour--he marked not the illuminated -ocean, or the classic shores in their purple shadows--he marked not -the fire of the western sky, or the clouds glowing into a blaze above, -but the whole sank into his spirit through the eye, and seemed to -elevate his own sensations more and more by the harmonious tone of -every thing around. He felt that it was in such a scene, in such a -climate, in such an hour, that man might well do deeds worthy of his -immortal soul. That under the eye of Heaven, and with the brightest of -Heaven's works on every side, he might well purify his heart of its -dross, and cast from him every baser thing. It was not unseen, then, -all the loveliness that surrounded him; it was not unfelt; but in the -busy turmoil of his own thoughts, it was unmarked. - -Ere the sun had quite gone down, however, his mind became more calm, -he recollected where he stood, he ran his eye along the line of coast, -he raised it to the sky above, he gazed pensively at the sea below his -feet, and marked the long, bow-like sails that skimmed across the -waters towards the resting-place for the night. - -The whole bay and the sea beyond it were alive with boats, and Morley -Ernstein thought: "Amongst all those is probably one that bears to the -same shore with myself; her who, I once believed was to be my leading -star to every high act and noble purpose; but who has left me in -darkness and despair. Over those waters, her bark is steering, and, -perhaps, her mind, no longer with the eye of memory, sees him whom she -once loved any more than her corporeal eye beholds me here. How calm -everything is, how tranquil; and that small cloud, catching the last -rays of the sun, glows like the conscious cheek of love. I wonder why -all the boats are hurrying into Naples. This seems to me the very hour -for lingering on the sea. I will go out and sail again;" and as he -thus thought, he beckoned one of his boatmen, whom he saw on the beach -below, to come up by the steps in the rock and speak with him. Ere the -man could reach him, however, a change had come over the whole scene. -The waves in the bay became crested with white foam--a sudden rushing -sound was heard. Then came a light breath of air; and then a number of -orange trees and large oleanders, which were ranged upon the terrace -of the villa, were levelled with the ground in a moment by a violent -gust of wind. Morley himself, strong and powerful as he was, was -obliged to catch at a great ilex for support.[2] Leaves and branches -were torn up and whirled away, and a thin, dusty film was carried -suddenly over sea and land, not sufficient to intercept the sight, but -to render all the lately glowing features of the scene grey and sad. -Whistling and screaming through the branches of the trees, over the -rocks and stones; and through the windows and porticos the storm -rushed on, and the Neapolitan servants ran hither and thither, closing -the windows and increasing the din and confusion by their shouts, and -outcries, and gesticulations. As soon as he had somewhat recovered -himself, Morley placed his back against the tree, the large branches -of which were waving to and fro like reeds, and gazed out upon the -sea. When he had last looked in that direction he had seen a vessel, -apparently steering from Capri, and sailing gallantly on towards -Sorrento. He had then regarded it with that indefinite feeling of -interest which often attaches to one particular thing amongst many -similar ones, we cannot tell why or wherefore. Perhaps it was a -thought which casually struck him that Juliet might be on board of -that polacca, which caused him to look at the vessel I have mentioned -more intently than any of the rest. But whatever it might be she had -formed a beautiful object in the view, with all sails set, and the -last red light of the sun dying her canvas with bright crimson. When -he turned his eyes towards her again, however, now that the squall was -raging with such fury; he could hardly believe she was the same ship. -One of her masts was gone, and seemed to lay over the side, only -attached to the vessel by the cordage. It was evident that the crew -were taking in sail, and endeavouring to ease her in every way; but -while Morley still gazed, the other mast went overboard, and she lay a -complete log on the water, with the gale still blowing tremendously -and dead upon the shore and the night coming rapidly on. - -Climbing slowly up the stairs in the rock, the boatman, to whom Morley -had beckoned, now approached him with difficulty, and the young -Englishman, pointing to the vessel in distress, asked if he knew what -she was. He replied that she was some Sicilian polacca, and that he -had seen her lying off Capri while they were out sailing in the -morning. - -"She'll not see another day rise," added the man. "Many a poor sinner -has gone to purgatory already to-night. Did you see that felucca upset -and go down, sir, just as she was getting round the point?" - -"No," answered Morley, "no; but we must not leave that ship to perish. -You must get out the boat--I will go off to her." - -The man laughed at the very idea. It is true, the wind was blowing -dead upon the land, the sea running tremendously high, the gale -scarcely abated at all of its fury, and the night coming on dark and -stormy, the heavens looking totally unlike the pure, clear, starlit -skies that had hung above them for the last six weeks. While he was -still arguing with his master, however, a faint, distant flash, and -the booming roar of a gun from the polacca, appealed to the heart of -the young Englishman for help; and assuming a somewhat sterner tone, -he bade the man gather together his companions and prepare the boat, -in the language of command. He obeyed so far as collecting together -the rest of the boatmen went, but no progress was made in getting the -boat ready, and they remained drawn into a knot, talking eagerly and -gesticulating violently, screaming, shouting, grinning, laughing, and -almost weeping, in a manner that can only be seen in Italy. - -Morley waited for a minute or two with some impatience, and then -approaching them, used every means that the reader may conceive to -induce them to accompany him. He succeeded so far, at length, that one -of the younger men yielded, and declared he would go, if the _padrone_ -would but stay a quarter of an hour to let the wind go down. Such a -squall, he said, never lasted long, and at all events it would be more -moderate. The consent of one soon brought that of the rest, and Morley -ordered them, in the meantime, to make every preparation. Hoping -perhaps that he would change his purpose, they contrived to extend the -quarter of an hour to nearly double that time, notwithstanding all -their master's impatience and reiterated commands, while the darkness -increased, and gun after gun told the dangerous situation of the -vessel, and each showed, by the greater brightness of the flash and -loudness of the sound, that she was driving rapidly upon the rocky -coast. - -At length, however, an effort was made; the boat was pushed out of the -cove, and rowed through the calmer water of the little bay. A -tremendous sea was still running beyond, although the violence of wind -had certainly somewhat diminished, and old Adam Gray, who, without a -word, had watched the proceedings of his master, knowing too well that -attempt to restrain him would be in vain, now, from the top of the -rock, gazed at the boat rushing out into the waves, and kept his eyes -upon it till it was lost to his sight amidst the dark struggling -waters. He tried to catch it again, but in vain; all was dim upon the -face of the sea; and then turning his eyes towards the spot where the -signals of distress, from time to time, showed the position of the -polacca, he remained with his grey hair floating in the wind, and his -heart full of sad and anxious apprehensions. - -After a time the firing ceased, and the old man muttered to -himself--"They have either reached her, or she has gone down." Then -came the longest and most terrible space of expectation. Everything -was darkness around; the only sound that interrupted the silence was -the fierce rushing of the wind, which still continued to blow with -awful fury; the sky at the same time was covered with clouds, so that -no light fell upon the waters, and the only sight that met the eyes of -old Adam Gray, as he gazed down from above, was the white foaming tops -of the waves, which seemed boiling as in a cauldron. - -"I wonder," he thought, "if I were to pile up a beacon here, whether -he would understand what it meant? At all events it would shew him the -villa and the rocks, so as to enable him to steer. I will try it at -all risks;" and calling to several of the other servants, who were -down below looking out as well as himself, he made them gather -together a quantity of old wood which had been left in a corner of the -vineyard, and with one or two decayed olive-trees, which had just been -cut down, a fire was soon lighted on the extreme verge of the rock, -and in about ten minutes spread its red glare far and wide. - -Perhaps the good man expected that, besides giving light to any one -who might be wandering over the surface of the waters, it would enable -him also to see what was passing on the waves below; but in this he -was mistaken, and for a quarter of an hour longer he watched in vain. -During that time the wind subsided still more, and at length Adam Gray -thought he heard his master's voice raised loudly. A moment after, a -slight flash, like that of a pistol, was seen in the little bay, and -the rocks around echoed with the report. - -"Quick! light the torches--light the torches," cried the old man; and -taking one of the flambeaux which he had brought out, he ran down the -steps through the rock, to the place where the boat was usually hauled -up. The other servants followed, but before they reached the shore the -grating sound of her keel was heard, and the first sight presented to -the eyes of Adam Gray was his master, pale and dripping, carrying -across the narrow ledge of rock the form of a lady, whose face rested -on his shoulder, while her arms were clasped tightly round him. - -The blaze of the torches seemed to rouse her, or else it was -some words that Morley whispered, for she raised her head, -exclaiming--"Now, now, Morley, set me down! There are others need your -care." - -"Not yet," said Morley; "not till you are under shelter. This, at -least, I have a right to do. Light us up the rocks, good Adam; the -rest stay here till you have got out the other women. Captain," he -added, speaking in Italian to a tall, athletic man, who had sprung to -the shore after him--"take care of your own people, and follow us to -the villa. Are you sure the other boat went down?" - -"I saw it sink," replied the man, in a sad tone; and hurrying on up -the steps, with Juliet in his arms, Morley paused not till he had laid -her on a sofa in the saloon; then bending down his head he kissed her -cheek, saying--"Thank God!" After gazing on her for a moment, he -added--"Now I will see to your cousin. I fear she is much worse. Here, -my good women," he continued, speaking to the wife of the contadino -and her daughters, who had followed him into the house, "there is a -lady below who will much want your care. Come with me." - -In a few minutes he returned, bearing Lady Malcolm in his arms, -apparently lifeless. She was soon carried to his own bedroom, and -every means were employed to restore her that the experience of any of -the party could suggest. Juliet forgot herself and all she had -suffered in her anxiety for her cousin; but ere long, she had the -happiness to hear her utter a few words of thanks to them for all they -had done. - -"Now leave her with me and her woman," said the wife of the contadino, -who had shown skill as well as tenderness in her care of the sufferer; -"a few hours' sleep will do more for her than anything else. Go with -that lady, girls," she continued, speaking to her own daughters; "and -find her some clothes, for she is very wet." - -Morley led Juliet forth, and then, in the same grave tone in which he -had hitherto spoken, besought her to change her dress, and take some -refreshment and repose. "I must go myself," he added, "to make sure -that there is assistance at hand, in case of any of the poor wretches -in the other boat reaching the shore. Though they abandoned you and -their companions, we must not abandon them. Farewell; then, for -to-night. Lie down to rest. We shall meet again to-morrow--Juliet." - -Juliet gazed on him in silence and sadness, but made no reply, and -Morley left her. - -About an hour was spent by the young Englishman in sending people with -lights along the rocks, but without any result. The boat, with which -some of the seamen had left the ship, had, as the master of the vessel -said, gone down almost immediately, and the bodies of those that it -contained were not found for several days. - -With a slow and thoughtful step while the moon began to struggle with -the clouds, Morley Ernstein returned to his own dwelling, passed along -the corridor, gave some orders to Adam Gray, and entered the saloon. -To his surprise, on raising his eyes, he beheld Juliet standing as if -watching for his return. Morley paused for a moment, gazed at her with -a look full of emotions that could not be spoken; then closed the -door, and, advancing, threw his arms around her, and pressed her to -his heart. Juliet strove not to withdraw herself, but leaned her face -upon his bosom, and wept. - -"Juliet," he said, in a low voice, as he felt her heart throbbing -against his--"Juliet, we must never part! It is no longer happiness or -misery with me, Juliet--it is life or death. You are mine, or no other -sun ever rises for me again. Choose, Juliet--choose! The words of fate -are upon your lips. If you love me, you are mine--if you love me not, -I am nothing!" - -"I do--I do," cried Juliet, throwing her own arms around him, and -speaking with a vehemence that he had never known her use; "I do love -you, Morley--I always have loved you--I never loved any but you. Think -not you have suffered alone, Morley,--oh, I have endured more than it -is possible for human language to declare! Can you doubt that I love -you? if you do, tell me how you will have me prove my love, and I am -ready to do it, even though the breaking of my vow should break my -heart, and destroy me here, as well as bring wrath upon my head -hereafter. Speak, Morley--speak!--Love you? Oh, yes! better than any -thing on earth--better, I fear, than heaven!" - -Morley clasped her closer to his heart, and pressed his lips again and -again upon her brow and cheek; they burned, as if with fire. She had -asked him what he would have her do, and now he told her, with all the -eloquent words of passion. He saw her gaze wildly upon him: he thought -that she hesitated. Then all the fell words with which Lieberg had -urged him came back to his memory, and he was about to employ their -power upon her also--from the tempted to become the tempter! But -happily--oh most happily for both, Juliet replied before he had -blasted her esteem. - -"Say no more, Morley," she said--"say no more--I am yours for ever;" -and she put her hand in his. "Oh, Lord God!" she added, "if I sin in -breaking the solemn vow I made to those who first gave me life, -forgive me in thy mercy! But for him, on whose account I break it, -that life which they gave would now be at an end. His is the existence -that I henceforth possess, and surely it can be no crime to dedicate -it all to him! I will try, Morley," she continued--"I will try to -forget that vow that I have made to those who are dead, or to think -that I am now exempt from its obligation; yet I fear it will often -return to make your Juliet sad, and that my peace of mind will always -be disturbed by the thought of a parent's curse." - -Morley cast down his eyes as one bewildered. He gazed thoughtfully on -the ground for several moments. He trembled at the feeling of a great -escape; and then he murmured--"Here has been some mistake--here has -been some mistake!--Tell me, Juliet, what was this vow? It cannot be -binding on you now, but yet I must hear it." - -"Hear it, Morley, and decide for me," said Juliet, with a melancholy -look; "the vow is a double one. My mother, Morley, on her -death-bed--after a life of grief and sorrow for having disobeyed her -own parent--exacted from me a solemn pledge that I would never become -the wife of any man to whom my father forbade me to give my hand. -Morley, he did forbid me to unite myself to you. He demanded from me a -vow that I would not, on my duty as his child, and his last words were -the bitterest--the-most awful curse upon my head if I disobeyed." - -There was a step in the room, which caused Juliet to turn her head, -while Morley, whose face was towards the door, made an impetuous sign -to the person who had entered to retire; but old Adam Gray came in -with a respectful, but a determined countenance, and Juliet, with a -glowing cheek, withdrew herself from Morley's arm. - -"I beg your pardon, Sir Morley," cried the old man; "but what I have -to say must be said--I can keep it down no longer; I care not whether -it offends or not! I have loved you from a boy, sir, and will tell you -the truth, even though it make you angry. The young lady that you are -talking to--I do not mean to say anything against her--though she has -made you unhappy enough, I'm sure." - -"Quit the room, Adam Gray!" exclaimed Morley sternly. - -"Not till I've told you, sir," replied the old servant "I've heard -it's her father's will makes her do all this; but she is no more what -she fancies herself than I am. Your father always said, sir, that she -was not old Carr's daughter, and wished Lady Malcolm--that is, Lady -Clavering, as I ought to call her now--to try it with him. That was -the cause of the quarrel; for your father said he was a swindler; and, -you know, all Mrs. Carr's property went to Lady Malcolm, if she had -not a child; and so, when their baby died, he got this young lady up -from Sergeant More's wife, who had it to nurse; but the cheat was as -plain as possible, for this baby was six weeks old, and the other but -a day or two; but as poor Mrs. Carr was so ill that she knew nothing -about it, and the baby was brought up by hand, nobody could prove it -then, except the nurse and Mrs. More. I can prove it now, however, and -that I will, too, let come of it what may." - -The old man paused to take breath, for he had spoken with all the -eager rapidity of one who, having broken through habitual respect, is -fearful lest the impulse which gave him courage to do so should fail -him. The effect produced upon Morley and Juliet, however, was very -different from what he expected. At first both seemed bewildered; but -then a look of joy and satisfaction inexpressible came upon his -master's countenance, and casting his arms round her he loved, Morley -exclaimed--"Mine--mine, Juliet!--you are mine, without a fear and -without a regret, without one cloud to shadow the sunshine of our -love!" - -"Oh, is it--can it be true?" cried Juliet. "Tell me--tell me," she -continued, disengaging herself from Morley's embrace, and laying her -hand upon the old man's arm--"can you prove it?--can you shew, beyond -a doubt, that I am not his child? I would give anything--I would give -everything--but, alas!" she added, suddenly recollecting herself, "if -it be as you say, Adam Grey, I shall have nothing to give--I shall be -a beggar, Morley.--Will you value your Juliet less?" - -"A thousand-fold more, dearest!" replied her lover. "There was an -internal conviction of the truth in my heart, from the very first. I -was sure that old man could not be your father--that the same blood -never ran in his veins and in yours." - -"And whose then is the blood that runs in mine?" said Juliet, -thoughtfully. "It is strange, Morley--very strange!--and yet I own -that I am most thankful to God it is as it is; for amongst many -painful things that I have endured through life, one of the most -painful has been, a conviction that I was not really an affectionate -and tender daughter--that I could not love my father as natural -impulse would prompt one to do. Often have I struggled with myself, -often have I wept over my own sensations, and have thought that, -though he was unkind, and cold, and bitter towards me, if I had really -the feelings which a child ought to have, I should forget every sort -of harsh and chilling act in filial love. But, oh! I do regret my -mother--I do regret my poor mother!--she was always gentle and -affectionate, and fond of me." - -"Because she _thought_ you were her child; and he _knew_ you were not -his," replied Adam Gray--"that was the cause of the difference, Miss -Juliet; and though I can't understand how you and Sir Morley have -settled matters, so as to seem very happy at what I feared might make -you otherwise, I hope you will forgive me; and as to proving it, I -have got Mrs. More's declaration myself, signed with her own hand, and -her daughter has got all the papers which the old woman left at her -death. I promised not to say a word till she was dead, and should not, -indeed, have told it now, but that I thought you were ill using my -poor master, Miss Juliet." - -"I hope I have not done so," said Juliet, with a sad smile at the old -man's bluntness. "One may sometimes be obliged to make those they love -unhappy, without ill using them. Adam Gray, I think you should have -known me better. But, however, perhaps now I may have the power of -rendering him happy instead. Morley, you seem sad." - -"No," answered Morley, "I am not, my beloved; but even in intense -joy itself, such as I now experience, there may be a melancholy, -Juliet--at all events a pensiveness--as there must be, indeed, as long -as man feels in his own heart that he is utterly unworthy of the -goodness and mercy of God. Together with the sensation of relief and -blessing which was given me by the tidings of this night, and the -knowledge that you are mine without one shade of regret hanging over -our union, came the recollection of how little I had merited such joy, -how I had repined and struggled, how many evil acts I had actually -been guilty of under the influence of despair, how many more I might -have been tempted to commit, how many I was upon the very eve of -plunging into. I must not tell you, Juliet--I cannot tell you all that -my words to you this very night implied, before I found what were -really the ties that bound you." - -"Say not a word, dear Morley--say not a word," replied Juliet, sadly -but tenderly; "it has been bitter enough to know that I have been -making you wretched as well as myself. What would it be to think that -I had plunged you into any evil?" - -"It is past, Juliet--it is past!" said Morley; "and though the last -year will ever remain upon my memory as one dark and gloomy spot, yet, -dear girl, it may be no disadvantage to me to be a humbler man for the -rest of my life, from sad experience of my own weakness.--But hark!" -he exclaimed, hearing a sound unusual in that remote place, "there is -the galloping of a horse's feet. I hope no bad news from Sorrento. Run -down and see, good Adam, and bring me word quickly." - - - - -CHAPTER LVIII. - -Morley Ernstein had not been alone in watching with eager terror the -progress of the storm, and the wreck of the Sicilian polacca, on the -night, with the events of which, we have lately been busy. Helen -Barham, also, had seen the first effects of the squall, with terror -the more intense, because she knew, not only that Juliet must be at -that very time upon the waters, but also because she was aware that -she must be within a few leagues of the shore of Sorrento, upon which -the wind was blowing with such dreadful vehemence. Juliet had written -her a note from Capri, where they had paused for an hour or two to see -the island, and had even so accurately described the vessel, that -Helen had seen and recognised it before the storm began. Each howl of -the gale, when it first commenced, made her heart sink with -apprehension; and though there be some people in the world, -unfortunately, who may dream that thoughts would come across Helen's -mind to check if not to mitigate her anxiety for her friend, yet be it -said, most truly, that Helen only remembered Juliet at that moment as -one who had ever been tender and kind, who had been a sister to her -when the ties of kindred failed, who had loved her with disinterested -love, and soothed her in the time of sorrow and mourning. - -As soon it was possible, notwithstanding the fury of the wind, she -went out to the highest point of the coast, though it required all the -strength of Harry Martin, and another strong man, to steady her steps. -But Helen could not resolve to remain within, while one whom she so -dearly loved was perishing amidst the waves; and on the top of the -promontory she found a number of Italians, gazing out likewise, with -their eyes all fixed upon that vessel--now mastless and abandoned to -the fury of the waters--which was growing dimmer and more dim to their -sight, as the beams of day were fading away from the sky. Then came -the signals of distress, and all those terrible moments, ere the -polacca was totally hidden by the night. But Helen, though powerless, -remained not inactive; she endeavoured, though in vain, to induce the -fishermen to put off a boat; she enquired fruitlessly for any persons -more venturous than the rest; she offered sums that seemed of -incredible magnitude to the poor Sorrentines, for any one who would go -forth to give aid to the vessel in distress. None would undertake it; -and as the night went on, one by one the people who had been assembled -dropped away, and left her standing there, still gazing out into the -darkness, but unable to tear herself from the spot. - -At length, the same idea struck Harry Martin, which had occurred to -old Adam Gray. "In half an hour from this time, madam," he said, "that -ship will be upon these rocks. Will it not be better to get a number -of men, with torches, all ready to help and save as many of the crew -as possible?" - -"Oh, yes, yes!" cried Helen; "fly, by all means, fly, and collect as -many as possible. Pay them well, and promise a large reward for every -life that is saved. Go quick, my good friend, go quick! I will return -to the villa with the courier. I fear I can do no good here. Never -mind me, Martin, but gather the people together, as fast as possible." - -According to her orders, Harry Martin left her; and after remaining -for about ten minutes more, Helen was turning to go back to her own -dwelling, when one of the servants of the villa came up seeking for -her in the darkness to tell her that some people had been sent over to -Sorrento by Sir Morley Ernstein, who entertained some apprehensions -regarding her safety. Scarcely had the man spoken, when the dim forms -of two or three other persons were seen sauntering up the rocky road, -and Helen, somewhat alarmed at what she heard, and not liking their -appearance, hastened her steps. She passed another and another, -without being able in the obscurity to discern their faces; and the -sound of footfalls following, made her heart beat strangely. At length -four men presented themselves, linked arm in arm, and at the same -moment a loud whistle was heard from those behind. At that signal an -immediate rush was made upon Helen, and those who were with her. The -two men were knocked down in an instant; and Helen, caught up by arms -which it was in vain to resist, was borne away, shrieking, and calling -for help in vain. - -"This way, Eccellenza, this way!" cried a voice, in Italian, while the -speaker apparently ran on before; "round by this wall, and the back of -the houses, or we shall be stopped. Once on the road to Vico, and we -are safe. The house you bade us get, is that way--the other men will -take care we are not pursued. Here, round to the right, sir." - -Helen ceased not, however, to cry for help, as long as strength -remained, but it was in vain, and for two miles the man who carried -her bore her on with a rapidity that made his own breath come thick -and hard. At length as they were entering what seemed a wilder, and -less cultivated part of the country, where the walls of the vineyards -and gardens had ceased, and nothing was before them but the hills -covered with their odoriferous plants, he paused, saying--"I must stop -for a minute. Bid the men make a circle round us." - -"Oh!" cried Helen; "for pity's sake let me go. What have I done to -injure you? If you will let me go, you shall have any ransom that you -name." - -"Ransom!" he replied, speaking in English and in a voice too well -known; "half a world should not ransom you, till you become a thing -that you yourself loathe and hate. You scorned my love in England, you -scorned it still more bitterly at Rome, but now I have you amongst -these wild hills, and the God that delivers you, will be a God indeed! -Come on, my men, come on;" he continued, "see, the moon is breaking -through the clouds, and the wind is going down, we are still too near -the houses.--Come on, quick, I say; I think I hear a horse's feet." - -Helen heard the same sound, and shrieked aloud for aid, but help did -not come; they hurried her on: the echo of the horse's feet died away, -and Lieberg said, in a bitter tone--"He hears not the sweet music; or, -like the deaf adder, he stoppeth his ear to the song of the charmer. -Your mode of journeying is unpleasant, perhaps; it will soon be over, -lady, so content yourself for a time." - -When he had gone about a quarter of a mile farther, however, a distant -noise met the ears of the whole party, not like the noise of one -horse's feet, but as if there were many, coming up at the full gallop -by the same path which they were pursuing. Helen found her -persecutor's arms clasped more tightly round her, while his pace grew -still more rapid; and, confirmed by these signs in the faint hope she -entertained of assistance being near, she again called aloud for help. - -"Tie this over her mouth," cried one of the men, giving Lieberg a -handkerchief; "they cannot trace us here, unless her screams bring -them up." - -"That accursed moon will betray us," exclaimed Lieberg. "Cannot we get -down into the hollow way?" - -"They will hem us in there," cried the man. "By the body of Bacchus, -they have got round, and are before us! Bend down, Eccellenza, bend -down!--Curse that screaming! I will drive my knife into her!" - -"Here, take her," cried Lieberg. "We shall have to fight them.--Call -up some of the men from behind.--Tie her, and keep her here; they -cannot be so many as we are. We will soon disperse them.--Here come -three, right down upon us--call up some of the men from behind, I -say!" - -The man to whom he spoke uttered the same loud whistle that Helen had -heard before, but at that moment were heard two or three shots from -the ground which they had just passed over, and then a whole volley, -while the three horsemen, who had galloped on and intercepted -Lieberg's farther progress, caught sight of him, by the clear -moonlight and were coming down at full speed. - -"Huzza! we have them--we have them!" cried the voice of Harry -Martin.--"In God's name, leave him to me, Sir Morley.--You look to the -lady." - -But as he spoke, two of Lieberg's hired ruffians rushed up, in that -picturesque, and never-to-be-mistaken costume which the Italian -bandits have affected, with the ribands on their hats floating wildly -in the gale, and their long guns carried easily in their hands. - -"We cannot help you," they cried--"we cannot help you, they are too -many for us. Bertolo is down, and so is Marino." - -"But strike one stroke," exclaimed Lieberg, furiously; "here are but -three before us." - -"But there are twenty behind," answered one of the men. "However, here -goes;" and raising his gun to his shoulder, he fired. - -His companion followed his example the very moment after, and -instantly one of their opponents went down, horse and man together. -Another horse reared and plunged, but darted forward again with a -staggering pace, and the horseman finding that the beast was wounded, -sprang to the ground, and cast away the rein. The other man, who had -fallen also, started up, and two of Lieberg's companions each taking a -separate way, turned and fled. The man who still remained mounted, was -turning his rein to pursue them, but the voice of Morley Ernstein -stopped him, exclaiming--"This way--this way! There stands the villain -himself. I know him but too well." - -"This for you, Sir Morley Ernstein," shouted Lieberg, levelling a -pistol, and firing at the same moment. - -Morley staggered back, but the ball, discharged from too great a -distance, only hurt him slightly, and the next moment he darted -forward again. - -"Shall I kill her?" cried the Italian, who stood beside Lieberg. - -His master paused for a single instant, then caught Helen up again in -his arms, asking "The cliff is near, is it not?" and without waiting a -reply, he ran with the swiftness of lightning up the side of the -hill. The moon was now shining clear, as I have said, and the whole -party beheld and followed him. The man on horseback contrived to turn -him once, as a greyhound does a hare, but neither Morley nor Harry -Martin, though by their companion's man[oe]uvre they gained upon him -considerably, dared to fire for fear of hitting Helen. - -At length Lieberg paused, but it was only on the very verge of the -rock overlooking the sea; and there he stood, laughing aloud with the -peculiar mocking laugh, which always marked that he thought he had won -the day. His tall, magnificent form was seen clear and distinct by the -moonlight, and Morley and those who were with him, not three paces -distant, could even distinguish his features and the look of dark and -savage triumph by which they were animated. - -"Keep back, Sir Morley Ernstein," he cried, "and hear a word or two! -When first we met, I felt that the fate of one of us depended on the -other. You have me at bay, but I have my advantage too. If you drive -me over this precipice, you not only destroy a woman who loves you, -but you kill your own brother--Ay! your father's son, Sir Morley, by a -lady of higher rank than your own low-born dame. Have you any scruples -of paternal tenderness?--I have none!" and at the same moment he -clasped Helen tightly round the waist with his left arm, and stretched -out his right with a second pistol in the act to fire. - -Ere he could draw the trigger, however, with a bound, which cleared -the intervening space in an instant, Harry Martin was upon him. One -powerful arm was cast round Helen tearing her from her persecutor; the -other pressed a pistol right into Lieberg's ear. The cock fell--there -was a flash and a report; and, reeling back, with Helen in his arms, -from the edge of the precipice over which he had nearly fallen in his -effort to rescue her, the hardy Englishman exclaimed--"I have saved -you--by God, I have saved you!" - -And where was Lieberg? He had disappeared; and though Sir Morley -Ernstein caused long and diligent search to be made for his body under -the cliffs upon the following morning, it was nowhere to be found. The -sea did not approach near enough to have washed it away; none of the -peasants or fishermen had seen or heard of it; and the only thing that -could give any indication of his fate, was a drop or two of blood on -the spot where he had stood. - - - - -CHAPTER LIX. - - -There are few sensations that affect the heart of man which are more -impressive, I might almost say sublime, than those which he feels when -he wakes from the first sleep that is afforded to him after strange -and stirring events, when some vast change has been effected, when -some great result has been achieved. During that dark and terrible -night--that night so full of joy and pain, which we have spoken of in -the last chapter, Morley Ernstein obtained but little refreshing -repose. Much confusion and agitation took place in his own dwelling -after he returned thither with Helen Barham; and the emotions of joy, -we all know, are not less exciting than even those of grief. - -The meeting between Juliet and Helen was in itself affecting to both, -and equally so to him who witnessed it; but Helen Barham was the same -as she had always been--generous and enthusiastic in her affections, -and thinking far less of herself than others. When Morley, indeed, led -her into the room where Juliet waited his return with anxious -expectation, her heart fluttered, and her lips murmured a few words -which might perhaps be prayer; but she cast her arms round her friend, -and told her all the terror and the anguish she had felt while -uncertain of her fate upon the sea. - -"But now," she added, after the events which had just taken place upon -the hill had been related to their fair auditor--"from all I see, and -from a few words which he has spoken, dear Juliet, I believe I may -thank God, not only for saving you from destruction, but for restoring -you fully to him towards whom I am such a debtor. To see you two happy -will be the greatest of happiness to me, for, indeed, I may well say -that I love you both, better than any beings on this earth; and I am -very sure, as no one can ever confer such benefits upon me as you have -done, so will no one ever arise even to share in that affection which -is your due from me." - -In conversation such as this, and in enquiries, explanations, and -arrangements, two or three hours passed after Morley's return, and it -wanted but a short time of the dawn when he laid his head down to -rest. Thought occupied that space, and the sky was growing grey with -the approach of daylight, when sleep fell upon the young Englishman's -eyes. He slept for about two hours, then rose, and went out to gaze -over the sea. All was calm and tranquil. The storm which had swept the -waters on the preceding evening had passed away; sunshine, and -brightness, and tranquillity, had returned; and Morley could not help -finding a symbol in the atmospheric changes of that night, of the -workings of his own fate, which had just taken place. He felt that a -tempest had swept over him, had passed, and had left a calm to come -back again and soothe his heart. He raised his voice to God, and -thanked him for the infinity of his mercies. - -Morley Ernstein had yet more to be grateful for than perhaps he -already knew; but he was quite satisfied with his fate, and sought to -enquire no farther. He comprehended easily how, with rash haste, he -had concluded that Juliet had become Lady Clavering, and would have -asked no farther questions on a subject, the very memory of which was -painful to him, had not the good Countess herself, with her usual -kindly simplicity, thought it right to explain to her young friend--as -soon as she could get down, on the day following the shipwreck--all -the reasons and motives of her marriage with Lord Clavering. - -"I dare say you, my dear Morley," she said, "and a great number of -other people, thought it a very silly thing for an old woman like -myself to do, and perhaps for my good lord also; but we have known -each other for some thirty years, and have seen each other at periods -of great grief for the loss of those we loved better than we shall -ever love again. We both found ourselves somewhat solitary in life; -and therefore, when I saw that Juliet here had made up her mind to -give her hand to you, I listened to the proposal of Lord Clavering, -though I had some time before hesitated to agree to it. You may be -very sure, my dear Morley, that neither wealth nor station was my -object; for though my income was a very limited one, I always made it -answer my purposes, and, at all events, it was as great as my -ambition." - -"Had you waited a little," said Morley, looking at Juliet with a -smile, "your fortune would have been much increased." - -Lady Clavering was surprised, but the tale was soon told, and Adam -Gray himself sent for to explain the whole. He now repeated what he -had said the night before; but as a proof of his assertions, had -produced a paper which the widow of Sergeant More had signed, as the -reader may recollect, when she was journeying over with him and her -daughter to Doncaster. By this she acknowledged that, shortly after -her arrival in England, whither she had come after leaving her husband -with the army, she had taken up her abode in a small Yorkshire -village, between Morley Court and Yelverly, with three children of her -own, and one infant, the daughter of an officer in the Austrian -service, which she had brought from the Continent, leaving its father -dying, and its mother dead. She received some kindness from the father -of Sir Morley Ernstein on her first arrival, and he had seen the -infant she brought. But before she had been a week in the cottage she -inhabited, Mr. Carr himself came down one night in haste, and -concluded with her a bargain, by which, for the sum of two hundred -pounds, and the promise of future protection and support, she gave up -to him the infant which she had brought to England, and taking the -dead child in its place, pretended that her little charge had fallen -sick and expired. The motive assigned by Mr. Carr for his part of this -proceeding was, that his wife would go distracted if she found her -child had died. But Mrs. More soon began to hear rumours of a -different sort; Sir Morley Ernstein's father came down to her, and -with kindly, though serious admonitions, besought her to tell the -truth in regard to the death of the child, as a considerable property -was at stake. Mr. Carr himself ultimately acknowledged the fact to -her; but by payment of a second sum, and obtaining her husband's -promotion, induced her to go with Sergeant More to India, where she -remained for eighteen or nineteen years. - -Such were the contents of the paper which Adam Gray now read, but Jane -Martin, he said, possessed all the more important documents, and she -was soon brought from Sorrento, to throw what light she could upon the -case. She produced four curious documents, perfectly sufficient to -confirm all that the old man had asserted. The first, was another -clear statement by Mrs. More herself precisely similar in all material -points to the other: it was drawn up by her own hand, signed and -witnessed. The next, was an acknowledgment of the facts which she had -extracted from Mr. Carr before she would consent to leave England. The -third, was a certificate in German of the birth of Juliet Willoughby; -and the fourth, a letter from her father, Captain Willoughby, to the -rector of some parish in Yorkshire, recommending the child to his -care, and begging him to interest the writer's elder brother in the -poor orphan. On this letter was written, in Mrs. More's hand--"The -rector had died of the fever before I got to England." - -"Shew me those two last papers," cried Lady Clavering, as Morley read -them aloud; "let me see them, Morley--let me see them! Juliet, my dear -child," she continued, casting her arms around her, after she had read -and re-read the papers, "if you have lost one father, you have found -another--that Captain Willoughby is my husband!" - -It were needless to trouble the reader with farther explanations, or -to ask his permission, like the vanquished party after a battle, to -bury our dead. If he will turn to the first part of this volume, he -will see the reference made by Lord Clavering himself--which, -probably, he skipped at the time, as being irrelevant to the history -before him--to some of the circumstances of his early life, and I can -afford him no farther information, not possessing any myself. Suffice -it, that nobleman, on his arrival at Naples, about a fortnight -afterwards, held Juliet to his heart, and wept over her as a long-lost -child; and that without any tedious delay, he united his daughter to -the man whom she had always loved. - -For Morley, he was happier than even imagination, warmed by love and -expectation, had been able to paint; and with Juliet by his side, let -it be said, the good "_Tenant of the heart_" the high, the holy, and -the pure--the spirit of the soul, maintained a perpetual sway over her -more earthly comrade. - -Some five or six years after the period of this tale, the two -cottages, which we have described as seated in the little glen near -Warmstone Castle, appeared thrown into one, decorated with shrubs and -flowers, and, generally, with three or four rosy children running -about the doors. From the little garden-gate every morning, half an -hour after sun-rise, might be seen to ride forth a very powerful man, -growing, perhaps, a little heavy withal, but mounted on a stout -Yorkshire horse, well fitted to carry him. The labourers and tenants -touched their hat to the steward; and, though with a wary and a -watchful eye he perambulated the property, seeing that no injustice -was done to his beloved mistress, yet all the people on the land -declared that Mr. Martin was a kind, good man; that he was tender to -the poor, charitable to all, liberal to the active and industrious, -and, above all things, clement, and no way harsh to an unconfirmed -wrong-doer; for he himself well knew, that, whatever magistrates or -lawgivers may say, _Mercy has power to reclaim_. - -And of her, the mistress of the mansion, what have we to tell? That -Helen remained Helen Barham still, in mind, in character, as well as -in name. If there was regret resting as a shade upon her mind, if -there was disappointment amongst the memories of the heart, the pure, -high spirit, veiled them from all eyes; and though I must not say she -_struggled with_ them--for there was nothing like contention in her -breast, after Juliet and Morley were once united--yet she _repressed_ -all selfish feelings, and saw the happiness that their union produced, -with a bright, though grave, tranquillity. She laid out for herself, -from that moment, her course of life. In the fair and calm abode which -seemed to have been prepared expressly for her, she passed her future -years in diffusing happiness and sunshine round her. The cottage knew -her step well; and a class above that found her a kind and indulgent -lady, healing all wounds, reconciling all differences, and silencing -clamour and complaint. It was very seldom throughout the whole -neighbourhood, that sweet smile, and that soft voice, would not -prevail, even where every harsher means had been tried in vain. She -was a good neighbour, too, and a good friend; and her beauty, her -extraordinary beauty, remained undiminished for many years. It was as -if the pure and noble spirit had a balmy and preserving influence even -upon her corporeal frame. There is one thing strange, however, in -regard to her fate; though many admired the lovely woman, and many -coveted the hand of the wealthy heiress, no one ever ventured to ask -that boon of Helen Barham. - -Several years afterwards she besought Juliet to allow her to adopt one -of her children, and make him heir of the property which had once been -his father's. The boy spent several months with her in each succeeding -year; and once--but only once--as he looked up with a bright and -beaming smile in Helen's face, while she parted the beautiful hair -upon his brow, her eyes filled with tears, and she clasped him to her -bosom, with emotions that could not be restrained. - -And Lieberg! Was nothing, then, ever heard of him? Can one form no -conjecture, backed by sufficient probabilities, of his real fate? - -Reader, his body was never found; but his spirit, alas! still lives, -and pervades too many a scene, blasting with its presence what -otherwise might be bright. Happy is the man who has not a Lieberg -always, very, very near him! - -Where? - -In his own heart! - - - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[Footnote 1: This is now altered.] - -[Footnote 2: Let no reader suppose that either the suddenness or the -violence of this storm is exaggerated. Such is by no means the case.] - - - - -THE END. - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Morley Ernstein, by -G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORLEY ERNSTEIN *** - -***** This file should be named 51251-8.txt or 51251-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/2/5/51251/ - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans pprovided by -Google Books (The British Library) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James"> - -<meta name="Publisher" content="Meline, Cans and Co."> -<meta name="Date" content="1842"> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> -<style type="text/css"> -body {margin-left:10%; - margin-right:10%; background-color:#FFFFFF;} - - -p.normal {text-indent:.25in; text-align: justify;} -.center {margin: auto; text-align:center; margin-top:24pt; margin-bottom:24pt} - - - -p.right {text-align:right; margin-right:20%;} - -p.continue {text-indent: 0in; margin-top:9pt;} -.text10 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:10%; margin-right:0px; font-size:90%;} -.text20 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:20%; margin-right:0px; font-size:90%;} - - -.poem0 { - margin-top: 24pt; margin-left: 0%; - margin-right: 0%; text-align: left; - margin-bottom: 24pt; font-size:90%} - -.poem1 { - margin-top: 24pt; margin-left: 2em; - margin-right: 10%; text-align: left; - margin-bottom: 24pt; font-size:90%} - -.poem2 { - margin-top: 24pt; margin-left: 20%; - margin-right: 20%; text-align: left; - margin-bottom: 24pt; font-size:90%} - -.poem3 { - margin-top: 24pt; margin-left: 30%; - margin-right: 30%; text-align: left; - margin-bottom: 24pt; font-size:90%} - - - -.t0 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:0em; margin-right:0em;} -.t1 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:1em; margin-right:0em;} -.t2 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:2em; margin-right:0em;} -.t3 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:3em; margin-right:0em;} -.t4 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:4em; margin-right:0em;} -.t5 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:5em; margin-right:0em;} - - -.quote {text-indent:.25in; text-align: justify; font-size:90%; margin-top:36pt; margin-bottom:36pt} -.ctrquote {text-align: center; font-size:90%; margin-top:36pt; margin-bottom:36pt} - -.dateline {text-align:right; font-size:90%; margin-right:10%; margin-top:24pt; margin-bottom:24pt} - -h1,h2,h3,h4,h5 {text-align: center;} - -span.sc {font-variant: small-caps; font-size:110%;} -span.sc2 {font-variant: small-caps; font-size:90%;} - -hr.W10 {width:10%; color:black; margin-top:0pt; margin-bottom:0pt} - -hr.W20 {width:20%; color:black; margin-top:12pt; margin-bottom:12pt} - -hr.W50 {width:50%; color:black;} -hr.W90 {width:90%; color:black;} - -p.hang1 {margin-left:3em; text-indent:-3em;} -p.hang2 {margin-left:3em; text-indent:0em;} - - -</style> - -</head> - -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Morley Ernstein, by -G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James - -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: Morley Ernstein - or the Tenants of the Heart - -Author: G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James - -Release Date: February 20, 2016 [EBook #51251] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORLEY ERNSTEIN *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans pprovided by -Google Books (The British Library) - - - - - - -</pre> - - - -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<p class="hang1">Transcriber's Notes:<br> -1. Page scan source:<br> -https://books.google.com/books?id=KJtWAAAAcAAJ<br> -(The British Library)</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>MORLEY ERNSTEIN</h3> -<br> -<h5>OR THE</h5> -<br> -<h4>TENANTS OF THE HEART</h4> -<br> -<h5>A ROMANCE</h5> -<br> -<h4>BY G.P.R. JAMES ESQ.</h4> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>BRUSSELS.</h3> -<h4>MELINE, CANS AND CO.</h4> -<h5>M DCCC XLII</h5> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>MORLEY ERNSTEIN</h3> -<h5>OR</h5> -<h4>THE TENANTS OF THE HEART.</h4> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER I.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"Pouvons-nous pas dire, qu'il n'y a rien en nous, pendant -cette prison -terrestre, purement, ni corporel ni spirituel?" asks good old -Montaigne, and certain it is that in many an act where we imagine the -body alone takes part, the spirit has as great a share; and in many a -thought where the mind seems to divest herself of clay, the impulse -was given by the body, not the soul. But besides the contention -between the corporeal and spiritual part of our nature, and the sort -of swindling that goes on on both sides, he that looks into his own -heart must acknowledge with him of old, that there seem to be two -spirits within us. I do not only mean two spirits distinguished by -their promptings to good and evil, but two principles separate in -their nature, in their objects, and in their ultimate dwelling-place, -the one tending to the earth, the other aspiring to the heavens; the -one the principle of animal existence, the other the principle of -immortal life; the one shared with the brutes that perish, the other -that essence which raises us above them here and hereafter. What shall -we call these two spirits? How shall we distinguish them, the one from -the other, in speaking of them hereafter? Let us name the higher and -the purer one, <i>the spirit of the soul</i>; and call the other, <i>the -spirit of the flesh</i>; for both are distinct from mere intellect, which -each uses as an agent, as each gains the ascendancy, or appeals to as -a judge when the struggle is nearly equal. It is upon this struggle -between these two principles that turns the greater part of each man's -moral history.</p> - -<p class="normal">One of the strangest points in that contest is, that <i>the spirit of -the soul</i>, as we have called the one, appeals less frequently to the -intellect than her earthly sister, leaving it, in general, to the -latter, as if for her uses in this earth the powers of intellect were -given, while the soul obtains its impulses from other sources, and, -marked out for a higher destiny, receives winged inspirations from the -world to which it tends--faith, conviction, sentiment, feeling, -conscience;--and oh, how often does that better spirit seize the happy -moment to open the eyes which all our powers of mind could not -unclose, and strip the world and all its pleasures of the delusions -which no force of intellect has been equal to dispel!</p> - -<p class="normal">At the age of one-and-twenty years--It is a beautiful age, full of the -spring, with all the vigour of manhood, without one touch of its -decay; with all the fire of youth, without one touch of its -feebleness! Oh, one-and-twenty! bright one-and-twenty!--wilt thou -never come back to me again? No, never! The cord of the bow has been -so often drawn that it has lost its elasticity; there have been a -thousand flowers cast away that have withered in the dust of Time's -sandy path; there have been a thousand fruits tasted that have left -but the rind in my hand; there have been a thousand travel stains -acquired that never can be washed off till the journey is done. That -which has been lost, and that which has been gained, have both been -gathered into the two baskets of the past; and whatever the future may -have in store, one-and-twenty, with its many hopes, its few fears, its -buoyancy of spirit, its elasticity of limb, its eagerness of -expectation, its activity of pursuit, its aspirations, its desires, -its faith, its confidence, its frankness, its garden of visionary -flowers, and its atmosphere of misty light, can never, never come back -to us, were we to whistle till we broke our hearts. No, no; in the sad -arithmetic of years, multiply by what numbers you will, you can never -get at one-and-twenty more than once.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the age of one-and-twenty years, Morley Ehrenstein, or Ernstein, as -it had been contracted, a gentleman--descended, as his name evinces, -from a very old German family, who had made themselves a home in a -foreign land, some three centuries before--sat in one of the large -chambers of an English country-house, not many miles from the good -town of Doncaster. No one tenanted the chamber but himself, and though -it was a cheerful day of summer, and the room was one of a bright and -sunny aspect, there was a degree of melancholy on the young man's -countenance, which might be difficult to account for, if we did not -look a little into his heart, and pause for a moment on his previous -history. Let him gaze then at the ceiling, and study the quaint -arabesques into which the plaster of Paris had been drawn; let him -lean his head upon his hand, and examine the pretty nothings with -which his table is covered; let him gaze out of the window into -the far distance, as if he were about to paint a portrait of the -weather-cock on the village church; but let you and I, dear reader, -first put our friend into a microscope, and note down exactly every -limb and feature and sinew, as if we were true Kirbys, anatomising a -moth; and then let us look in the old almanacks, to discover some of -the antecedents of his present state.</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man, then, of whom we speak, was above the middle height, -powerful in limb, and though so young, with but little of the -slightness of youth remaining. Health, and strength, and activity, -were to be traced in every swelling muscle, and those who regard what -is merely corporeal, might well pronounce him a fine animal, even when -at rest. When in activity, however--when hunting, swimming, leaping, -or performing any of those rude exercises whereof Englishmen are so -fond, and also so proud, with the glowing cheek and expanded nostril, -the flashing eye, and the strong rounded outline of every limb, he -looked like a fierce young horse, before the bit has taught it the -force of any other power than its own strength. In every moment of -excitement the animal spirit, <i>the spirit of the flesh</i>, started up -strong and bold within him; his veins seemed to be filled with molten -fire, his heart to be full of eagerness and impetuosity, his whole -mind one active enthusiasm. He felt within him a thirst for unceasing -action of any and every kind, and had it not been for certain -qualities, which we shall notice hereafter, he would have been merely -one of those who look upon all things round them, as objects on which -to employ their reckless energy, and life itself but as a child's -plaything.</p> - -<p class="normal">He was young, dear reader, very young, and had neither learned from -the bitter teaching of years nor from any sudden and sad experience, -that the face must be, as it were, a veil to hide the countenance of -the heart. There are few men who reach thirty, without more or less -becoming hypocrites, and still fewer women; at least, as far as the -expression of the features goes. There are some with whom the waters -of time are like those of certain springs, and gradually petrify the -face into a mask. There are others who retain their pliability of -features, but reverse the action; cover hate and sorrow with a smile, -or conceal joy and satisfaction with an air of icy indifference. There -are some endowed by nature with lineaments of marble, and some who, by -habit and by art, form for themselves an India-rubber countenance, -which will stretch to whatsoever they require.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein was none of these. He was very young, as we have said, -and nature had made his looks the reflection of all that passed in his -heart. His face was as a clear stream, through which one sees to the -very bottom. He had never learned to rule its expressions, and those -impulses which were but too apt to sway his actions, had still more -power over his countenance.</p> - -<p class="normal">Why then did he now look so sad? Women will imagine that he was in -love, for they are all inclined to say, with Alfred de Musset, that--</p> - - -<p class="center">"La vie est un sommeil, l'amour en est le rêve."</p> - - -<p class="continue">Men--but especially Frenchmen--may be inclined to suppose, with -Balzac's gamblers, when they first beheld Raphael, that there was, -under his melancholy aspect, "quelque horrible mystère;" and imagine -it proceeded from some "douleur inouïe." Neither of those -suppositions, however, would be correct. There was no one point in his -history or situation, that should have produced anything like gloom.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein was born to wealth and honour; his father had died -early, leaving but one child, to the care of a fond but a wise mother, -who, though young and beautiful at her husband's death, kept, -throughout the rest of her life, the colours of mourning in her -garments and in her heart. Some six years before the time of which we -now speak, she too had left this world for another state of being, and -her son had fallen into hands of guardians, somewhat strict, but still -prudent and kind. They had seen that his talents were great, that his -mind approached, if it did not absolutely reach, the height of genius, -and they had taken care that it should have such cultivation as the -land afforded. They were as conscientious with the young baronet's -property as with his intellect; and the old family-house had been left -in the care of two faithful good women, who had withered in the -service of his ancestors, and who now shewed themselves scrupulous in -maintaining everything in the same precise order, and clean propriety -which had been kept up during the life of the lady of the mansion.</p> - -<p class="normal">The guardians of Morley Ernstein had resisted all his entreaties to -let him pass the vacations of school and college in his ancestral -house; but on the day that he was one-and-twenty, a carriage and four -horses were at the door of his temporary abode before six in the -morning, and ere night he was in the dwelling of his youth. Everything -had been prepared to receive him, and he had hastened from room to -room, while all the moonlight joy of memory lit up each chamber with -associations from the past. He slept little, and rose on the following -day, to go through the accounts of guardians and executors, and he -found, as paper after paper was laid before him, new cause to applaud -their care and wisdom--new reason to look upon his situation as one of -the brightest that man could fill. The subsequent night he slept -soundly; but now, when he rose on the day we have mentioned, which was -the one that succeeded, he sat in the large drawing-room, where his -mother used to pass the morning, with his head resting on his hand, -the broad, fine forehead contracted, the bright dark eyes full of -melancholy, the corners of his mouth turned down, gazing at things he -did not see, and forgetting all the bright expectations of youth, and -all the joys that hope had spread out before him.</p> - -<p class="normal">Of what was it that he thought? Was it of his mother? No! Time had -healed the only wound that fate, within his own memory, had inflicted -on him; and his thoughts were of no external kind whatever: It was -that <i>the spirit of the soul</i> then, for the first time, made her voice -heard strongly. She might have whispered before, but now she spoke -aloud. It was as a warning at the gates of life: it was as if some -hand, for a moment, drew back the glittering veil with which pale -reality covers her wrinkled front, and had shewn him, instead of the -bright young features he expected to see, nothing but deformity and -age. Unhappy is it--at the time, most unhappy--for the man, in whose -mind age and youth can change places, even for an hour. God wills us, -while we are young, to view things youngly, and when the thoughts of -age force themselves upon us in youth, we are like the living clasped -in the cold arms of the dead.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such, then, were the sensations of Morley Ernstein, as he sat in the -house of his fathers, master thereof, master of himself, master of -fortune, station, youth, strength, and expectation! Oh, how he had -longed for that hour! What bright visions had risen before his eyes, -of enjoyment to come! How he had strode in imagination over every -field--how he had visited every cottage--how he had consoled the old -servants for his long absence--how he had made in fancy every change -that he had devised in boyhood. He had dreamed bright dreams, though -most innocent ones; and now the dream was accomplished--he was there, -with nothing but his own will to control him in any act! Yes, the -dream was accomplished, but it was ended too! Whenever we grasp life's -flowers with too hot a hand, they are sure to wither almost ere they -reach our bosom. He had not felt as much joy as he had expected; he -had been happy certainly, but he had discovered that even happiness is -not the bright thing he had thought it; and now he sat and mused, the -spirit of the soul seeming to tell him, that thus he would still find -it throughout the whole of life; that there is a rich ingredient -wanting in the cup of mortal joy which never can be found on earth.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a dull oppression on his heart that he could not account -for; there was a voice rang in his ear, telling of the emptiness of -all human things. "But a few short years ago," he thought, "here -moved my father, filled with plans and purposes, hopes and -expectations,--here crowded round him the gay, the bright, the -beautiful, the wise, the good--here honour waited, wealth supported, -renown followed him--here, too, my mother spent days of joy and -sorrow--here she looked with tenderness upon my cradle--here she -watched with pride my growing years--here she often talked of the -bright future with her beloved son. And they are both gone: their -shadows no longer cross the household floor; the roof tree no longer -echoes back their voices; their tongues are silent, and their smiles -are cold; and the place where they once dwelt, now knows them no more. -Thus, too, shall it be with me ere many years have passed; my joys, my -hopes, my affections shall soon be in the dust with theirs."</p> - -<p class="normal">Such were his thoughts as he sat there, though the room was full of -sunshine--though the object before his eyes were bright--though -one-and-twenty years were all that he had numbered. Judge then, dear -reader, whether <i>the spirit of the soul</i> was not strong within him, -thus to rise and reprove the animal spirit, even at the very threshold -of youth. Each was indeed powerful: the elements of earthly and -immortal existence had been poured into him profusely; the eager, -impassioned, vehement being of this world, was met by the calm, grand, -mysterious essence of a higher sphere; and sometimes the impetuous -energy of the one, sometimes the stern majesty of the other, gained -the victory, and ruled the course of life.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER II.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">We will have done with the philosophy of the human heart; we -will talk -no more of abstract sensations--at least, for the present; we will -enter into no further investigations of causes and effects; but -will tell a simple story to the end; never deviating into -discussions--except when it suits us; for, as the gentle reader is -well aware that resolutions, whether made by man or woman, are -intended from the very first to be broken, it would be hard upon a -poor writer to force him to keep his better than kings, or ministers, -or philosophers.</p> - -<p class="normal">The thoughtful fit into which Morley Ernstein had fallen did not last -long. The entrance of a servant dispelled it in a moment; and starting -up, as if half ashamed of the gloom that had fallen upon him, he -resumed the tone of ordinary life. Youth, with its consciousness, -feels as if man's bosom were but a glass case, where thoughts may be -examined like curious insects, and the young man doubted not that the -servant would see all that was passing within if he cleared not his -brow of the shadows that covered it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Bring me round a horse!" he said; "I will ride out." And after taking -his hat, his gloves, and his cane, he went into the old portico before -the door, and sat down on one of the stone benches which flanked it on -either side. The air was warm and balmy, for it was the month of May, -the period of the year in which Morley had been born. There is surely -something in the season of our birth which transfuses itself into our -character, and, I have sometimes been inclined to think, influences -our fate. Byron was born in the dark and stormy winter; Napoleon, in -the fiery and blazing month of August.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley had first seen the light in the fitful spring; and now, in that -month, when very often the heat of summer and the cold of winter -struggle with each other on alternate days, especially in the land -that gave him birth, he sat and watched the bright sunshine and the -dark cloud chase each other over the blue sky. The scene impressed -itself upon his heart and gave its hue to his feelings, for he was one -of those whose bosoms are like a deep, clear lake, reflecting vividly -the aspect of nature, except when the demon of the tempest sweeps over -it with his ruffling wing. He felt himself falling into a new fit of -thought, but resisted the inclination; and when the horse was brought -round, he sprang at once into the saddle, and struck the flank with -his heel. The animal darted forward, but instead of turning its head -towards the gate the rider took his way at full gallop across the -park, leaped the enclosure at a bound, and was soon out of the old -servant's sight, who beheld him depart, with the exclamation--"He is -but a boy after all!"</p> - -<p class="normal">There was as much envy and admiration as anything else in the old -man's speech; for who would not be a boy if they could?--who would not -go back to the freshness of early years?--who would not shake off the -burden of age and its heavy thoughts? At that very moment Morley was -flying from thoughts too old for his years; the animal spirit had -resumed its sway, and, in the fiery career of the high-bred beast he -rode, the energies of his own corporeal nature found exercise and joy.</p> - -<p class="normal">A little accident happened, however, almost at the outset of his ride, -which checked the speed at which he was flying over the country. We -have said he leaped the enclosure of the park at a bound; but he -certainly did so without thinking that any one might be upon the high -road at the other side. Such was the case, however; and, as Morley -Ernstein darted over the fence, he perceived a lady and a gentleman on -horseback, riding gently along.</p> - -<p class="normal">The sudden and unexpected apparition of a mounted horseman at full -speed, where there had been nothing but solitude the moment before, -made the lady start, but it made her horse start still more; and being -of that race of animals that is restive without being spirited, the -beast plunged, reared, and would have fallen backwards, but, as quick -as light, Morley was upon his feet by the lady's side, and with her -bridle in his firm, manly grasp. The horse became quiet instantly; it -seemed as if the animal felt at once that it could not resist; and -though it passaged away from him who held it, it no longer tried to -rear with that strong determination of crushing its fair rider which -it had shewn at first.</p> - -<p class="normal">The lady, however, agitated with all that had happened, slipped from -the saddle, quickly but gracefully, and of course Morley Ernstein -aided her to the best of his abilities, apologizing for frightening -her horse, and assuring her that the animal was now quiet, that the -danger was over, and adding a multitude of other things of the same -kind, in a breath.</p> - -<p class="normal">Our measures of time are all false and absurd together; we might -find a thousand better clocks than any that have ever been carried -up into the sky by a church steeple. Thoughts, feelings, passions, -events--these are the real moral time-keepers. What is to me the -ticking of a pendulum? There is many a five minutes, as they are -called when measured by that false scale, that form two-thirds of a -lifetime. One fortnight of existence has withered more than twenty -years, cast down the barrier between youth and age, and dried up the -fountains of the heart, like the simoon.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was not exactly thus with Morley Ernstein and the lady; but the -brief moments in which all passed that I have just narrated, comprised -for the young gentleman a world of other things besides. She was young -and very beautiful.--Is not that enough to load the wings of a single -minute with the thoughts of years, for a young man of one-and-twenty? -But that was not all; hers was the sort of beauty that he had always -most admired, most thought of, most wondered at. It was all gentleness -and brightness, but withal resplendent with high feeling and thought. -It was the mixture that we so seldom see of all that is lovely in mere -corporeal form and colouring: the rich contour, the flowing lines, the -warmth but softness of hue, the contrasted tints of the hair, the -eyes, the cheeks, the forehead, and the lips, with the lofty, yet -gentle, the tender, yet deep in expression. The young horseman had -remarked all this in a moment, and he had seen that beautiful face -agitated, that graceful form rendered more graceful by the effort to -keep her seat upon the vicious beast that bore her. At the same time, -the morning sun shone, mellowed through the foliage of a tree over -head, and cast that rich mysterious yellow light upon the whole scene -which is only produced when the sun-shine falls through the green -leaves that owe their brief and strange existence to his glorious -beams. That light seemed to give a peculiar lustre to her face--a -something that the youth, in his fond enthusiasm, could have fancied -unearthly, had not the soft hand that rested upon his as he aided her -to dismount, and the deep-drawn sigh of apprehension relieved, told -him that she was but a being of the same nature as himself. It was all -done in a moment, as I have said, and the manifold thoughts, or we may -call them impressions, which took place in his bosom, were like the -ripples of a moonlight sea; a thousand bright things received all at -once into the mind.</p> - -<p class="normal">Scarcely, however, had Morley Ernstein time to utter the few words -which have been mentioned when the lady's companion interposed, -saying--"At this time of the year sir, one does not expect to see -people flying over a park fence like madmen. The periodical season of -insanity--I mean the hunting season--is at an end, and I do not wonder -at the horse being surprised and alarmed."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley turned his eyes suddenly to the speaker's face; but he was an -old man, with grey hair, and the youth had a certain foolish reverence -for age, which was much inculcated amongst those weak people, our -ancestors; though it has given way very generally now, under the -influence of improvement and the diffusion of knowledge. He refrained, -therefore, and strangled an angry reply between his teeth, merely -saying--</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am extremely sorry I have alarmed the lady, and trust she will -forgive me. You still look frightened," he continued, addressing her -with a voice in which some young timidity, and the slight agitation of -admiration mixed strangely with a consciousness, not so much of varied -powers as of high purpose and noble feelings; "you still look -frightened, and somewhat faint. Were it not better for you to repose -for a moment at my house, hard by?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"At your house!" said the gentleman, with peculiar emphasis, and -gazing at him from head to foot; "I thank you, sir, but the lady can -very well pursue her ride. The horse, too, will be perfectly quiet, -unless he be again startled, and it is not reasonable to expect two -such pleasant occurrences in one day."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young lady bowed her head with a smile that seemed intended and -fully sufficient to compensate for the harsh coldness of her -companion. "I am not faint," she said--"a little frightened; but I can -well go on." She thanked him, too, for his kindness, in a somewhat -lower tone; not so low, indeed, as to be unheard by either of the two -who stood beside her, but still softened, and with somewhat of -timidity in her manner, as if she felt that what she said to the one -might not be pleasing to the other.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley aided her to remount, and gave her the rein, for her companion -made no effort to assist her. As he did so, he gazed for one instant -in her face, and his eyes met the deep blue heavenly light of hers, -pouring through the dark lashes, like the first dawn of morning -through the clouds of night. It was but for an instant, and bowing her -head once more, she rode on, leaving him standing on the road, and -marvelling still at the bright vision which had thus crossed his path, -and vanished. Who has not, in his childhood, seen a shooting star -cross the sky and disappear, on a bright autumn night?--and who has -not then gazed long into the wide vacant heaven, to see if the shining -wanderer would not appear again? Thus gazed Morley Ernstein after the -fair being that had just left him, with that sort of admiration in -which wonder has so great a share.</p> - -<p class="normal">He stood motionless, his horse's bridle over one arm, his cane -drooping from his wrist, and his eyes fixed upon the receding figures, -till they reached an angle of the road. They were riding slowly, and -by no movement in either did it appear that they gave another thought -to what had occurred--to that momentary meeting which had furnished -him with so many thoughts. He had no reason to suppose they would. -Perhaps, indeed, with man's true perversity, Morley might have deemed -it not quite feminine if the lady had turned her head as she rode -away; but yet he was mortified that she did not do so; and sighed to -think that he should most likely never see her more. At the angle of -the road, however--it was, perhaps, some three hundred yards distant -from the spot where he stood, far enough, in short, to render features -indistinct, but not to hide the gestures of the body--the two riders -directed their course to the left, and then--but only for a single -instant, with a glance withdrawn as soon as given--the lady turned her -face towards the scene of the little incident which had delayed her on -her way. It was but for an instant, we have said; but Morley felt that -in that instant she must have seen him standing and gazing after her, -and in his young enthusiasm he could not but fancy that she must have -seen, too, the admiration she had excited in his bosom.</p> - -<p class="normal">Who could she be? he asked himself--Who and what? Was she the old -man's daughter? He did not like to think it was so. He persuaded -himself that it was not. There was not the slightest resemblance -between them; his aspect was harsh, and hers was gentle; his eyes were -dim, and hers were bright; his brow was brown and wrinkled, hers was -fair and smooth; his hair was gray, and hers--. But as he thus thought -he smiled at himself, seeing that all the differences he had found -might be solely those of age. "'Tis but that he is old and she is -young," he thought; "but no! there is no resemblance, and then the -voices were as different as the croak of the raven and the song of the -lark--the voice which is almost always hereditary."</p> - -<p class="normal">If not his daughter, who could she be? was the next question; and as -there is always in the bosom of every one, a ready devil to suggest -that which may torment us most, he next inquired, "May she not be -his wife?" In England, however, it is not so common as in other -countries--where marriages are mercantile transactions, and the altar -and the commune often become a mere slave-market--for men to marry -girls who might be their grand-daughters; and Morley Ernstein soon -determined that she could not be his wife. She might be cousin, niece, -connexion--anything, in short: but neither his daughter nor his wife. -His daughter! No, she was too lovely, too gentle, too bright, for the -same blood to run in her veins, and in the cold icehouse of her -companion's heart. His wife!--Heaven and earth! it was impossible!</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man mounted his horse, and rode on, but more slowly than -before. The very sight that he had seen had calmed him, for such is -generally the first effect of very exquisite beauty. There is power in -it as well as loveliness--we are impressed as much as attracted; it -awakens admiration before it excites passion, and, with love as with -the ocean, the calm precedes the storm. He rode on, then, -thoughtfully, and many were the workings of his spirit within him.</p> - -<p class="normal">Not long after, he reached a village, which stood upon his own -property; the cottagers were all people who had known him in his -youth, and though they had not seen him for six years, they all -remembered him well. It was, by this time, the peasant's hour of -dinner, but some one caught a sight of the young landlord as he -entered the place, and the tiding spread like lightning. Every door -had its occupants, and low courtesies and respectful bows greeted him -as he advanced. There was a kindliness in Morley's heart, that would -not let him deal coldly with any one; and, though he would fain have -gone on, thinking of the engrossing subject that had taken hold of -him, he could not resist the good cottagers' looks of recognition; -and, dismounting from his horse, he called a boy to lead it through -the village, while, walking from door to door, he spoke a few words to -his humble friends.</p> - -<p class="normal">"God bless him!" cried one, as soon as he had gone on; "he is a nice -young gentleman."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is very like his father," observed another. "I remember his father -well."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has got his mother's beautiful eyes, though," said a third. "Well, -I do think she was the prettiest creature I ever yet did see!"</p> - -<p class="normal">At the fourth or fifth cottage an idea seemed to strike Morley -Ernstein suddenly, and he asked if any of the inhabitants thereof had -seen a lady and a gentleman pass through the place on horseback, -intending to follow up that enquiry by demanding who they were. But he -got no satisfaction there. The cottager had been out in the fields, -his wife had been cooking the dinner, and no such persons as the young -gentleman described had been seen by either. He put the same question -again and again at other houses, but no tidings were to be obtained; -and, vexed and disappointed, he returned to his home and made -enquiries there.</p> - -<p class="normal">To the old servants he described the gentleman he had met with -accurately enough; on the lady he would not venture to say much, for -like all Englishmen he was keenly sensitive to a laugh, and feared to -awaken the least feeling of ridicule, even in the mind of a dependent. -He dwelt upon the person and dress of the horseman at large; but in -regard to the lady, added only that she was young and handsome.</p> - -<p class="normal">Human nature is very obtuse to description, and we seldom if ever find -any one who either attends to or applies the details that we give, -respecting any object which we wish to call up before the mind's eye -by means of the ear. Do not let poets or historians ever believe that, -by the lengthened descriptions they give, the reader ever becomes -impressed with the very scene or person that they themselves behold. -Oh, no! the reader manufactures a scene of his own, out of some of the -writer's words and many of his own imaginations or memories; or -fabricates a personage out of his own fancies and predilections; but -both scene and personage as unlike that which we have wished to -represent as possible. Thus was it, too, with Morley Ernstein and his -servants. One declared that the persons he had seen must be Mr. -Ferdinand Beckford and his young wife. Mr. Beckford was the good -priest of a neighbouring parish, and was just six-and-twenty years of -age. Another vowed that the horseman must be Mr. Thomas Ogden, Member -of Parliament for the town hard by, and the lady must be his wife. -Mrs. Ogden was somewhere between forty and fifty, and though she still -preserved a pretty face, her person was as round as a tub of Dutch -butter. A third insisted that it was Lawyer Chancery; but Ernstein -knew the lawyer, and replied--"Why he is six feet high, and I told you -this person was short."</p> - -<p class="normal">He saw that it was in vain to enquire further in that quarter, at -least; and he now resolved to pursue another plan, to reverse the -course of proceeding which he had proposed to follow, when he had -first arrived, and to visit immediately every gentleman's house within -twenty miles. His eager spirit would bear no delay, and before night -he had called on five or six of the principal personages in the -neighbourhood. All the gentlemen around declared that it was evident -Sir Morley Ernstein intended to be very sociable; and all the ladies, -who had daughters to marry, pronounced him a very charming young man; -but Morley did not find what he sought.</p> - -<p class="normal">He dined, wandered out through his beautiful park, hurried here and -there till bed-time, and then cast himself down to repose, but found -it not, thinking only of the places where he would call the next day, -and the chances of his finding the fair girl who had so much excited -his imagination. In short, <i>the spirit of the animal</i> was triumphant -in his bosom for the time. Let us guard, however, the expression well -against mistake. Do not let it be supposed that one evil thought found -place in his bosom at that moment. He was far too young, and fresh in -heart, to admit aught to the council chamber of his bosom, which the -fair girl ho had seen might not herself have witnessed and approved, -even supposing her to be all that her countenance bespoke her--pure, -and bright, and holy, as the spirits of a better world. No! but we -still say that the spirit of the animal was triumphant--the eager, -active, impetuous spirit, the same that leads the lion to rush after -his prey, the same that carries the warrior through the battle -field--the spirit of this world's things, of mortal hopes, and -passions, and affections--the spirit which, in all its shapes, in all -its forms, in camps and cities, courts and cabinets, gaining both high -worldly renown and the visionary immortality of fame, is still but an -animal energy--the spirit of dust and ashes.</p> - -<p class="normal">Early the next morning he rose and pursued his eager course; another -and another round of hours and visits succeeded, till at length he had -called on every one that he could hear or think of, within the reach -of a lady's riding, and yet he had neither seen, nor obtained the -least intelligence of the horseman and his fair companion. The -disappointment but excited him the more for some days, and he left no -means untried to relieve himself from the irritable curiosity into -which he had wrought himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">Still, all excitements come to an end; and in time he learned to feel -angry at himself for what he began to call boyish enthusiasm. He felt -somewhat disgusted with the life of the country, however; and as the -London season was then at its height, and everybody was carrying up -their stock of faults and follies to that great mart of wickedness and -vanity, from the less profitable markets of the country, he determined -to see what was passing in the metropolis, and to take his part in all -its energetic idleness. Be it said to his honour that he knew London -well, and loved it not; but he had seen it only as a boy, under the -somewhat rigid tutelage of others, and he was now to see it as a man, -master of himself and of a princely fortune.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER III.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Scarcely had Morley's visits in the country been paid, when -first came -four invitations to dinner, and then a grand ball was determined on by -a lady, who lived near the county town, and had four sons and six -daughters. Who can tell whether Morley Ernstein's appearance in the -neighbourhood had aught to do with all these gay affairs? Old Miss -Cumbertown, who had seen sixty and more drying summers and freezing -winters pass over her, till all the sweeter essences of her nature -were parched up to a dry haricot, muttered and grinned at all she -heard, and prognosticated that the young gentleman would not be caught -yet awhile. She knew well what it was to be disappointed in the -attempt to catch a lover; and when she heard, some days after this, -that the young master of Morley Court had declined all invitations, -announcing that he was about to go to town on the very day the first -dinner-party was to take place, she grinned a thousand times more. It -is so pleasant to see other people visited by the same misfortunes -that have fallen upon ourselves!</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meantime the young gentleman was totally unconscious that there -was anything like a design upon him in any of the five invitations, or -that he was creating the least disappointment in the inviters; -although they did not fail to believe--for cunning always fancies -itself opposed by cunning--that he partly saw through their devices.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, he gives himself great airs!" said one.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I suppose we must beg his company in very humble terms," cried -another.</p> - -<p class="normal">But, as we have before declared, Morley was quite unconscious of. -offence, and never once recollected the fact either of his having the -command of a number of votes for the county, or of his being an -eligible match for any lady in the land. Indeed, he thought not at all -of any man's daughter in Europe, except, indeed, of her whose birth, -parentage, and education, he had not been able to discover.</p> - -<p class="normal">After he had settled the period of his journey, the next thing was to -settle the mode of travelling. It was very natural that, with great -wealth in possession, which he had never been allowed fully to enjoy, -he should dream of tasting the sweets of it in every possible manner, -and that the chariot-and-four should first present itself to his -imagination, as the only fitting way for him to seek the capital. He -had very nearly given orders for the horses, and had visions of going -at least thirteen miles an hour. Rapidity of motion is one of the -inherent joys of youth and vigour--it may be called, almost, a -necessity, and Morley was one of those who enjoy to the highest -extent that peculiar sensation which is produced by the rapid passing -of the fair objects of nature before the eye; tower and town, and -church-steeple, and green fields, and bright rivers, and tall trees, -and rich woods, resting just long enough upon the organs of vision to -call up sweet, but undefined imaginations, and then passing away--like -distant music which swells and falls upon the ear, bringing back -vaguely airs that we have heard elsewhere, and leaving fancy to play -them to an end.</p> - -<p class="normal">He forgot, however, to give the order for the horses at the hour of -dinner, and afterwards he strolled out into the country round, and -visited the cottages of some of the peasantry who were reported to be -in a state of great poverty. He now saw real misery, for the first -time, and it had a powerful effect upon him. We have not space, dear -reader, to enter into the details; to paint the pale face of squalid -misery, and the eager anxious eyes of hopeless destitution. Suffice -it, that Morley Ernstein was young; his heart had not been hardened in -the furnace of the world, and it was not originally formed of that -adamantine stuff, called selfishness. He was not, as some, lavish in -his bounty, from mere want of any principle of action whatsoever; but -he relieved the unhappy people fully, and on his return home, gave -such directions, as to prevent their falling back into misery again -during his absence, except by their own fault.</p> - -<p class="normal">After this was done, he sat and thought, and ended, by ordering a -servant to go to the neighbouring town, and secure him a place in the -stage-coach to London. His scheme of travelling had been changed by -his visit to the poor; but not in the manner, or from the motives that -many persons may imagine. It was not that he proposed to save small -sums out of a princely fortune, for the purpose of devoting the whole -of that fortune to the poor, for Morley knew right well that the -industrious mechanic, the artisan, the farmer, the builder--all, in -short, who contribute by the labour of their hands and minds to the -convenience, comfort, and welfare of their fellow-creatures, have a -first claim upon those to whom God has entrusted the distribution of -great wealth. He believed that though the poor, the honest and worthy -poor, must be supplied, must be cared for--that though it is a duty to -make up, by active charity, for the inequalities and accidents that -the fundamental constitution of society, and the very nature of man -must always produce--still the industrious of all classes have their -great primary right, which ought to be attended to. It was not that -the actual sight of misery made him purpose to deny himself anything -that was rational and just in the station in which he was placed, or -resolve to refrain from any expense which might encourage the -industrious in all classes, but that sight had called up <i>the spirit -of the soul</i> to speak within him, and to check the animal spirit which -had fired his imagination. After he returned from those poor cottages, -he found no pleasure in the idea of the gay postilions and foaming -horses; his mind took a sadder, a more thoughtful tone. He felt almost -ashamed of the bright eagerness of pampered life in the presence of -the dim eyes and tear-stained cheeks of misery. His whole scheme -changed. "I will go to the capital," he said, "quietly and modestly. I -will not present myself in that gay place as the rich man, coming to -enjoy, but as the thoughtful man, going to examine and to consider. I -will not, indeed, conceal myself; but I will retire rather than -advance, till I have good cause to do so. I will seek to find friends -rather than to make acquaintances, and rather than simply endeavour to -spend my income, I will endeavour to spend it well."</p> - -<p class="normal">Nothing occurred to check <i>the spirit of the soul</i>, and he continued -in the same mood till the stage-coach passed by the gates of his park, -the next day. A number of passengers covered the outside of the -vehicle, so that there was no room for him in that part which -Englishmen always choose in preference to the interior, as if they -loved the dust of summer, the rain of autumn and spring, and the cold -winds of winter, better than any other of the enjoyments of those -seasons. To foreigners this seems an extraordinary taste; but the -origin of it probably is that the Englishman, who pushes almost all -his affections to extravagance, loves, with a vehemence that few other -people can feel, the free air of heaven. Morley would willingly have -changed places with the poorest traveller on the outside of the coach; -but as that could not be done, he took his seat in solitude in the -interior, where he found plenty of room for thought, there being -nobody within it but himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">The coach rolled on with a celerity which no one who has not travelled -in one of those small, inconvenient, but wonderfully rapid, vehicles, -can imagine to be produced by any animal under the sun. The nearer -objects flew past like lightning, the further ones kept gradually -changing their place with a quickness proportioned to their respective -distances from the coach, which, for its part, like the mind of a vain -man, seemed the centre of a circle round which all other objects were -running; and Morley's impetuosity was well nigh satisfied with the -rate of progression at which they were going.</p> - -<p class="normal">After all, movement is the grand principle of animal life; it runs in -our veins, it beats in our hearts, it advances with our ideas, it -enters into every change, is more rapid in youth, slower in infancy -and age, fails as desires are extinguished or objects wanting, grows -dull in sickness, pauses in sleep, and ends alone in death.</p> - -<p class="normal">After driving on at the same pace for three-quarters of an hour, -during which, Morley gave himself up to the sort of dreamy pleasure -which I have mentioned, of feeling himself whirled on through a -thousand beautiful objects, the coach stopped to change horses, and -one of the travellers from the outside came in, and took his seat by -the previously solitary tenant of the interior.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is as hot as if it were summer on the outside," he said, -addressing nobody, "and the seat I had got was so unpleasant, that I -am not sorry to quit it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley did not answer; but--with the sort of habitual coldness which -affects almost all Englishmen, in part pride, in part timidity, in -part contempt for all other beings than themselves, in part fear that -others should entertain the same contempt for them--he sat silent, -gazing out of the window, following his own meditations, and quite -willing that his travelling companion should follow his likewise.</p> - -<p class="normal">The personage who had entered was not one, however, that had anything -repulsive in his manners or appearance. He was tall, gracefully -formed, with an air of distinction, and a countenance often full of -fire and animation, although the habitual expression was that of quick -but easy-flowing thought. His brow was high and fine, his eyes -peculiarly large and bright, and his hair strongly curled; the only -feature in his face which could be termed even not good, was the -mouth, the lips being somewhat thick and heavy. His complexion was -dark, and the skin very brown, apparently with exposure to the air and -sun, but the whole exterior was extremely pleasing; and had Morley -looked at him at all, he would in all probability have spoken in -return; but the young gentleman did not look at him, and the stranger, -after pausing for a moment, spoke again--resolved, it would seem, to -make some impression upon his temporary companion.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pray, whose house is that?" he demanded, pointing to a handsome -mansion on the right.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not know," replied Morley, turning round, and gazing at him, for -the first time.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" said the stranger; "I thought you were well acquainted with -this country. The coachman told me that you were Sir Something -Ernstein, and that the park, at the gates of which we took you up, -belongs to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley smiled. "It is all very true," he answered; "but, nevertheless, -I do not know. I have not been in this part of England for six or -seven years."</p> - -<p class="normal">The stranger mused; but between two men not absolutely repulsive in -themselves, nor particularly disposed by any circumstances mutually to -repel each other--the poles of whose minds, in short, are not -reversed--conversation soon establishes itself after a few words have -been spoken. A single syllable will often do the whole with people -whose characters are well balanced, and a word act like the hair -trigger of a pistol, upon which hangs the fate of a life.</p> - -<p class="normal">Oh, how strange and complicated is the web of God's will! How the -smallest, the most pitiful, the most empty of things, by his great and -wise volition, act their part in mighty changes! How a look, a tone, a -sound, a pebble in our path, a grain of dust in our eyes, a headache, -a fit of gloom, a caprice, a desire, may not only change the whole -current of one man's existence, but affect the being of states and -empires, and alter human destinies to the end of time! The present -state of France, the whole mass of facts, circumstances, incidents, -accidents, and events, which are there going on, may all be owing to a -lady, whom I knew well, having splashed her stocking fifty years ago.</p> - -<p class="normal">"As how, in the name of Heaven?" demands the reader.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus! She was going out of her house with a relation in the town of -Douai, when, carelessly putting her foot on a stone, she splashed her -stocking. She went back to change it; the delay occupied a quarter of -an hour. When she went on again, she met, at the corner of the -<i>Place</i>, a man, since too famous in history, then scarcely known as -anything but a clever fop. His name was Francis Maximilian -Robespierre. Instead of going on, he turned with her and her relation, -and walked up and down the <i>Place</i> with them for half an hour. In one -of the houses hard by, a debating society was in the act of canvassing -some political question. As they passed to and fro, Robespierre -listened at the door from time to time, and at length, pronouncing the -debaters to be all fools together, he rushed in to set them right. -From that moment, he entered vehemently into all the fiery discussions -which preceded the revolution, in which he had never taken part -before, and grasped at power, which opened the doors of the cage, and -let out the tiger in his heart. Thus, had the lady not splashed her -stocking, she would not have met the future tyrant; he would have -pursued his way, and would not have turned back to the <i>Place</i>; he -would never have heard the debate that first called him into action, -for he was going to quit Douai the next day, and who can say how that -one fact, in the infinite number of its combinations with other -things, might have affected the whole social world at present?</p> - -<p class="normal">The stranger mused, as we have said, but after a moment's thought, he -replied, in a meditative tone--</p> - -<p class="normal">"How strange is the sensation when, after a long absence from -any place, we return to it suddenly! How different everything -appears!--how shrunk, and changed, and withered, seem many objects -that we thought beautiful and bright!--how many a light gone out!--how -many a sweet sound silent! I believe that it is very happy for us that -in point of time we cannot go back again, as we can in space."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, I do not think so," answered Morley, growing interested in his -companion's conversation; "I cannot, indeed, judge from experience, -but I should imagine that many an old man would willingly return to -the days of his youth; that every man, indeed, when he finds life -beginning to lose its energies, health failing, the muscle relaxing, -the eye growing dim, the limbs feeble, would willingly go back to the -time when all were in their perfection."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They would do so willingly, beyond all doubt," replied his companion; -"but whether they would do so wisely is another thing. We all wish to -see again the scenes of our boyhood, when we have been separated from -them long; but when we are gratified, we are always disappointed."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley smiled, to find the stranger speaking to all his late -sensations, as if he would have divined them; but he only enquired--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Always?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Always, I think," said the other; "because it is in the nature of -things that it should be so. Enjoyment is a harmony--the person that -is pleased with anything and the object of his pleasure must be -adapted to each other. Thus the boy loves a particular scene of his -youth, returns to it as a man, and does not find the same delight; not -because it is changed, but because it has remained the same, and he is -altered; he has lost his fitness for it. It suited the boy; but it no -more suits the man than would the wooden sword and the rocking horse."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not know," replied Morley, "but I should think that the memory -of enjoyment would make up for the change in his own nature. Memory is -the hope of the past, and both brighten the objects that they rest -upon."</p> - -<p class="normal">"True!" answered his companion; "but then that which he enjoys is not -the same, but the memory of his own pleasure therein. Oh no! the life -of man is still, forward--forward! Each period of existence, -doubtless, has its powers and its joys, as well as its hopes and its -desires."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But I have heard many that I have loved and respected, declare," said -Morley, "that in their own case the pure joys of youth were those on -which memory had rested through life with the greatest satisfaction."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Simply because they were the furthest off," replied the other; "but -why call them the pure joys of youth? I do not see why they should be -purer than those of any other period. Surely all joys are pure--I mean -those that are not criminal. Anything that gives me pleasure, or by -which I can give others pleasure, and which injures no one, is just as -pure as the gathering of a flower, or the pruning of a tree--certainly -more pure than crucifying a worm upon a hook, or shooting an -inoffensive bird, or many another of those sports and pastimes of -which youth is fond."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley was silent for some little time; he felt that there was -something dangerous in his companion's doctrines, if pushed to the -extreme; but still, as far as he had expressed them, there was nothing -Of which he could take hold. The other seemed to perceive, with fine -tact, that the young man who sat beside him, had taken alarm at the -indefinite nature of his argument, and he added in haste--</p> - -<p class="normal">"You will understand that I mean strictly to limit enjoyment to that -which is not criminal--which is not wrong--in short, all I mean to say -is, that the wisest plan for man to pursue is, to go on without ever -turning back his eyes to the past; to enjoy all that is natural for -his period of life, without regretting others that are gone. Each -pleasure is as a precious stone, picked up upon the sea-shore, a thing -to be treasured by memory; but because we find an emerald at one -moment, that is no reason why we should neglect the diamond that we -find the next, or the ruby that comes a little further on. Our -capabilities of enjoyment were intended to be used, and he who does -not do so, fails to fulfil one of the great obligations of his -nature."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley was better satisfied, but still not completely so; and had he -been older and more experienced, he might have thought that his -conversation with his travelling companion, is like that which -Conscience and Desire sometimes hold together, when temptation is very -strong. Desire still finds an argument to lead us up to the very verge -of wrong, assuring Conscience all the time that we are upon the safe -ground of right, and trusting to some momentary impulse to make us -leap the barrier when we have reached it.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley, however, was too young, too inexperienced, and be it added, -too innocent even in heart, to have had many such debates with -conscience, and to be experimentally acquainted with the tactics of -temptation. There was certainly something in his companion's arguments -which did not satisfy, but at the same time there was a peculiar charm -in his manner, in his conversation, in his very look, which made words -that might otherwise have failed to produce any effect, now sink into -the mind, and remain, like seeds, to produce fruit at a future period.</p> - -<p class="normal">The manner and the look that we have just spoken of, were certainly -very fascinating apart, but still more so together; not so much -because they harmonized as because they differed. The manner was -gentle, soft, and though full of rapid thought, yet easy, and glowing -with a sort of conviction that made assent easy; and yet there was -nothing in the least presumptuous in it. On the contrary--indeed, -every word appeared to be spoken, more as a suggestion than a -decision; while the soft richness of the speaker's voice seemed -calculated to persuade and lead. The look on the other hand was full -of quick vivacity and fire--the eye brightened up at a word, the lip -changed its expression twenty times in a minute, and withal there was -an air of reckless joyousness, of rapid careless quickness, which -contrasted wonderfully with the metaphysical themes he touched upon, -and by contrast, gave the stronger effect to his deeper thoughts.</p> - -<p class="normal">That he was a man of station and high breeding one would scarcely -doubt; and in his dress there was that scrupulous neatness which is -one of the distinguishing marks of a gentleman in youth. In older -life, a man may well lose a part of that attention to his apparel -which no young man should be without; but before the grand passage of -forty-five, no one should deem himself old enough to go out in a bad -hat if he can get a good one, or wear ill-blacked boots. The neatness -of his dress did not at all approach to puppyism, but every article of -his clothing was so well adapted to the other, that the whole -harmonized perfectly, and gave that peculiar and undefinable tone to -his appearance which has a vague sort of connexion with the mind -within, a reflection perhaps we might call it, of the habitual -thoughts and feelings influencing the dress without the wearer knowing -it. Man is but a species of chameleon, in general taking all his tints -from the things that surround him; but when these fail--like the stalk -of the balsam plant--his external colouring is affected by that which -passes within; and a man's fondness for particular hues, or sounds, or -scents, is often no bad indication of the character of his mind.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein felt not a little impressed in favour of the stranger. -He was, indeed, not without strong good sense himself, but still there -was a charm that he could not resist; and never dreaming that he was -doing aught but passing agreeably an hour which might otherwise have -proved tedious, he soon renewed the conversation, but on a different -subject.</p> - -<p class="normal">Let no one, however, venture to think that even a brief half-hour's -conversation with another man of strong mind can be a matter of mere -indifference--indeed, I know not that it ever is so, with any one, -wise or foolish, ugly or pretty, good or bad. We are all nothing but -traders in this world, mere hucksters, travelling packmen, with a -stock continually changing, increasing, diminishing. We go forth into -the world carrying a little wallet of ideas and feelings; and with -every one to whom we speak for a moment, we are trafficking in those -commodities. If we meet with a man of wisdom and of virtue, sometimes -he is liberal, and supplies us largely with high and noble thoughts, -receiving only in return sweet feelings of inward satisfaction; -sometimes, on the other hand, he will only trade upon equal terms, and -if we cannot give him wisdom for wisdom, shuts up his churlish shop -and will deal with us no more. If we go to a bad man we are almost -always sure to be cheated in our traffic, to get evil or useless -wares, and often those corrupted things which, once admitted to our -stock, spread the mould and mildew to all around. Often, often, too, -in our commerce with others do we pay for the poisons which we buy as -antidotes, all that we possess of good, both in feeling and idea. But -when we sit down by beauty, and gentleness, and virtue, what a world -of sweet images do we gain for the little that we can give in -exchange! Ay, and even in passing a few light moments with a dear, -innocent child, how much of bright and pure do we carry away in -sensation!--how much of deep and high may we gain in thought! Oh -no!--it is no indifferent thing, with whom we converse, if ideas be -the riches of the spirit.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thoughtful men, and men of rapid combinations, are almost always -abrupt in conversation. A topic is started, two of them pursue it like -hunters for some time together, mutually hallooing on one another; but -the time comes when they separate, ride rapidly on alone, till they -have run down the game, and then they come back to rouse a new quarry. -Thus Morley Ernstein had soon got far away from the subject of their -former discourse; and had followed the thoughts suggested by it to an -end, with many a collateral idea likewise, before he spoke again. When -he did so, it was merely of an object that attracted the corporeal -eye.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What a beautiful sunset!" he said, gazing out of the window of the -coach towards a spot where, through a break in the large wood by which -they were passing, the last rays of day were streaming in floods of -gold and crimson, seeming to make the forest air thick and misty with -light--"What a beautiful sunset! Might not one imagine the glades of -that wood filled at this moment with every sort of fairy and fanciful -being, to which the curious superstitions of old times gave birth?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"One might, indeed!" replied the stranger. "It is a haunt formed -expressly for the 'good people,' as you call them, in this country. -Here the belief in such beings is very nearly extinct, even in the -lowest classes. In my country, such is by no means the case; and there -is scarcely one of us, whatever be his grade, in whose bosom, if you -were able to search into all its hidden corners, you would not find -some belief--ay, and a strong belief, too--not only in the existence -of spirits, but in their assuming tangible forms and opening a -communication with man."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Are you not an Englishman, then?" demanded Morley, with so much -astonishment in his countenance at the discovery that one who spoke -his own difficult tongue so well was from another country, as to call -up a smile upon the lip of his companion--"Are you not an Englishman, -then?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No!" replied the stranger; "I am not; but some foreigners can speak -your language tolerably, especially when they have lived long in the -land. But, as I was saying, there are very few persons in Germany who -are totally free from such a belief; and, indeed, it is scarcely -reasonable to suppose, if we admit there is another order of created -beings above ourselves, that there should be no means whatever of -communication between the two next links in the same great chain. I -confess, that I cannot conceive such a thing possible. If there be -such things as spirits--if all be not merely material in this moving -clay, there must be some means by which the superhuman being can make -his presence felt and known to his fellow spirit in the earthly -tabernacle. All our great men have certainly believed such to be the -case. Who can read either Goëthe or Schiller, without perceiving that -creed peeping through philosophy, and wit, and history, and poetry?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, Goëthe certainly entertained such feelings!" replied Morley. "It -was impossible for any one so to extract intense sublimity from human -superstitions, without being tinctured with them strongly himself. Had -Goëthe written whole volumes to prove that everything is material, a -few lines of the choruses in Faust would have shewn him to be -insincere."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The picture of Mephistophiles himself," said his companion, "were -surely quite enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes," replied Morley; "and yet there are parts of the character of -Mephistophiles which I do not clearly understand. He is all-powerful -over Faust, and yet seems subservient to him. He appears at his -command, obeys his behests, and yet leads, directs, and overpowers -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"In short," replied his companion, "he serves but to command; and, -depend upon it, whether it be an allegory or a portrait, the picture -is a true one. It may be, that the great poet meant to represent the -power of the passions. But I imagine that he drew, almost by -inspiration, the likeness of that mighty being, whose fate and -character have been summed up by Milton, in the words--</p> - - -<p class="center">'Evil, be thou my good!'</p> - - -<p class="continue">You must remember, that the infinite variety of that being is as -wonderful as his power. Milton might draw one portrait; Goëthe -another: both different, but both alike. If Goëthe really meant a -picture rather than an allegory, he shewed that Mephistophiles had -bound himself simply to serve, for a certain time, the views of a vast -mind which otherwise might have escaped him. He ruled Faust by his -wisdom, governed, directed him--ay, even enlightened him; but the -spirit adapted himself to the mortal with whom he had to deal. Even by -the very tone of sadness that pervades the character of -Mephistophiles, the gravity that is in his mirth, the depth that is -below his lightness, he was fitted to deal with Faust. Had the -character of the man been different, so would have been the character -of the spirit. The Magician had power over the finer essence for the -time, and the prince of one class of spirits willingly devoted himself -to the service and instruction of a mortal--nay, more, it is evident, -as far as he could feel affection or pity for a being so placed as -Faust, he felt it for him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But," exclaimed Morley, "do you imagine Satan to be capable of -affection and pity?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why not?" demanded his companion--"more, in all probability, than -beings that have never known sorrow or pain."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You seem inclined to defend the Prince of Darkness!" rejoined Morley, -with a smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Certainly!" answered his companion, laughing--"if I did not defend -him, no one else would; and I am always inclined to take part with the -weaker side."</p> - -<p class="normal">Almost as the stranger spoke, the coach which had been going down a -long hill with terrible rapidity, swayed from side to side for a -moment, like a ship in a stormy sea. A violent concussion then took -place as the vehicle, in turning the corner of a bridge, struck a -large stone, and the next instant Morley felt that the carriage was -going over towards the side on which he sat. He had but time by one -hasty glance to see that the low parapet of the bridge was close to -the wheels, when the stage went over; the stones gave way beneath it, -and the whole mass rolled headlong into the river below. It fell upon -the top, and struck the stones in the bed of the stream. The -concussion was terrible--the carriage was nearly dashed to pieces, and -Morley Ernstein only felt one violent blow, only saw a thousand bright -sparks flash from his own eyes, and then lost all consciousness, even -that of pain.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER IV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The sensations of Morley Ernstein, when he returned to -consciousness, -were all of the most unpleasant kind. There was a numbness over his -whole body, and a feeling of tingling from head to foot, which, to -those who have not felt it, may be difficult, if not impossible to -describe. A violent weighty pain in the head too, a sluggish -oppression at the heart, and a great difficulty in drawing the breath, -all made the consciousness of life so burdensome, that, when he saw a -number of people standing round the bed in which he had been placed, -and employing every means that art could devise and skill execute, to -restore him entirely to life, he could not but feel a desire that they -would let him alone, and leave him to that quiet insensibility from -which they were taking such pains to rouse him. For the moment it -seemed to him that death was a very pleasant thing; and he who, full -of health, life, and buoyant youth, had thought half an hour before -that there would be nothing more awful than to lie "in cold -obstruction and to rot," now that he had become more familiar with -"the lean, abhorred monster," felt not the same repugnance, and almost -longed for the still quiet of the grave. Life and death are the two -grand adversaries; fighting incessantly for the kingdom of man's body, -and in proportion as the dominion of Life in us is powerful, so is our -reluctance to yield ourselves to her enemy.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such as I have mentioned were the first feelings of Morley Ernstein; -but, as life came back more fully--as he felt his heart beat more -freely, his benumbed frame regain its true sensations, his bosom heave -with the unrestrained breath--his love for the bright angel, and his -abhorrence for her dark opponent, returned in full force; and he could -feel grateful to those who were giving him back to all the warm -associations of earthly being. His eyes wandered round the little -circle that encompassed his bed; but all the faces were strange, -except one--that of his travelling companion in the stage-coach; who, -amongst the most eager, and the most busy, was superintending with -active skill the execution of every mandate pronounced by the lips of -a tall, thin, yellow-faced man in black, that sat by the side of the -bed near the head. All eyes were fixed upon the patient, with a look -of interest in his fate and satisfaction at the change that was coming -over him; but the moment he attempted to speak, every one raised a -finger to the lip, in order to impose silence upon him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You may take away the salt from under the shoulders," said the thin -yellow man; "circulation is coming back rapidly. Keep the hot water to -the feet, however, and bring me a little Madeira, Mr. Jones. We must -give it him by teaspoonfuls. Your friend, sir, will do," he continued, -speaking to Morley's travelling companion; "but we must be very -careful!--very careful, indeed! I knew a poor fellow once, who died, -when every one thought him quite recovered, merely from the people -imprudently raising him up in bed.--Pray do not move a muscle, sir!" -he added, seeing that the young gentleman himself was evidently -listening to all he said.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have had a very narrow escape, sir--a very narrow escape, indeed; -and the least thing may undo all we have done. I never knew, in my -life, a case of suspended animation, where a relapse did not prove -fatal.--Oh, the Madeira!--now, sir--a teaspoonful every five minutes!"</p> - -<p class="normal">From all that Morley Ernstein saw and heard, he judged rightly that he -had undergone, and perhaps required, the treatment applied to persons -who are apparently drowned. He learned, moreover, in the course of the -evening, that, at the moment that he had received the severe blow on -the head, which had deprived him of sensation, the carriage had sunk -deep in the water, and that he would have infallibly perished had it -not been for the exertions of his fellow-traveller, who, not being -stunned as he was, had soon perceived that he remained under the -water, and had dragged him out, through the door of the broken -vehicle. He was quite insensible, however, when brought to land, and -remained so for nearly an hour, although every means of resuscitation -were skilfully employed.</p> - -<p class="normal">The dangers of our poor friend were not by any means over when life -once more bounded freely in his bosom. The headache which he had felt, -on first recovering his senses, increased every minute; and ere the -next morning, violent fever and delirium had succeeded. For ten days -he hung between life and death; but the thin yellow man, whom he had -seen sitting by his bedside, was, in truth, a surgeon of great skill; -and the unwearied care and attention of his fellow-traveller, whose -whole interest in him was only that which could be excited by the -companionship of a few short hours, did as much as art to withdraw him -from this new danger.</p> - -<p class="normal">When the young gentleman recovered sufficiently to comprehend what was -passing around him, he found another face by his bedside, better known -than that of any one near. His old servant, Adam Gray, had been -brought, it seemed, from the mansion to attend upon his young master, -at a period when very little hope was entertained of his recovery, and -for the four last days he had been employed in aiding the stranger in -his care of the patient.</p> - -<p class="normal">Every writer who has ever taken a pen in hand has written, and every -heart, even the most selfish, has felt, how sweet is the sight of a -familiar face in times of sorrow, sickness, or difficulty; so that the -observation is trite enough, and yet few have analyzed the sensations -which that familiar face produces, or told us why we love to see it -better than fairer countenances, or even those that express as great -an interest in us. It is that a familiar face comes loaded with those -sweet associations of other times, which are no mean medicaments to -the body or the mind. There is a light of hope upon it, reflected from -those past days, which seems to brighten all the dark spots in the -present; and such was the sight of that old man's countenance to -Morley Ernstein. It brought to him the recollections of his early -years, a feeling of balmy spring, the thoughts of health and rural -sports, and many bright hours long gone; and from the moment that he -saw him hovering round his sick bed, the sensation of convalescence -came upon him, and he could say to himself, "I am getting well."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ere long, conversation was allowed him, and he soon found the -opportunity of doing that which he had more than once wished to do, -while the grave doctor and the officious nurse had continued to impose -silence upon him--namely, to thank the man, who, on so slight an -acquaintance, had tended him with the care and kindness of a brother. -His travelling companion, who had been absent for about an hour, -entered the room, shortly after the permission to speak was granted -him, and took his seat by the bedside in which he now sat up, while -the balmy air of the first days of June found their way in through the -open window of the little inn. Morley lost not the occasion, and -expressed, as he well could do, in the fine eloquent language of the -heart, the feelings of gratitude, which he experienced for all the -generous kindness that had been shown him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mention it not!--mention it not!" replied the stranger; "I have no -title to thanks whatsoever; I did it for my own gratification, solely -and simply, and consequently have no right to claim or to receive -gratitude."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay," said Morley, "I have heard of such disclaimers before, my -good friend, and know that some men always put good actions upon -selfish motives, when they perform them themselves. But the way I -distinguish is, to ask whether, abstracted from the pleasure of doing -good, this man or that, who denies the merit of all he has done, would -have so acted. This man jumps into a river, to save a child from -drowning; that visits a prison, to give comfort to a sick man--would -the one have plunged into the water with his clothes on merely for -amusement, or the other have spent an hour in the prison if no sick -man had been there? If the pleasure felt be derived solely from the -goodness of the action, the man who experiences it is a good man, and -well deserving the gratitude and admiration of his fellows. You saved -my life, the landlord informs me, by dragging we out of the carriage -while it was under water, and--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, that is true," replied his companion, half laughing; "I did. -indeed, as Sheridan called it, play the Newfoundland dog, when I found -you were likely to be drowned unless assisted; but that is all, and -surely that is little enough. I have done the same for a fly in a -cream jug."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you have never stayed three weeks in a country inn," answered -Morley, smiling, "to nurse a fly in a fever; and for that, at least, -you deserve my deepest gratitude."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not at all!" answered his friend--"not at all! Even on your own -principles, you owe me no thanks. I never thought whether I was doing -a good action or not. In regard to the first of your mighty -obligations, that of staying three weeks in a country inn, it might -truly have been a great tax upon me under some circumstances; but just -at that time, I had nothing on earth to do. I was going back to London -out of pure weariness of the place I was in; for in general, I never -am in town before the first or second of June. Here I have had fine -air, fine scenery, and a fine trout-stream. What would you have more? -Then as to watching and taking care of you in your delirium, I have no -merit there: the truth is, I am fond of all strong emotions, and the -watching you, the wondering whether you would live or die, the changes -of your countenance, the gray shade that would sometimes come over -your face, the flush of fever, the restless tossing to and fro--and -then, again, the gambling, as it were, each moment in my own mind for -your life?-all this was surely excitement enough. Besides your -delirium was worth any money. There is something so strange and -fantastic in the ravings of a man in fever--very much more curious and -metaphysical than mere madness. In madness, one always finds one -strong predominant idea; but in delirium it is as if all the ideas of -a lifetime were mixed in one wild chaos. Nor Talma, nor Schroeder, nor -Malibran, could have afforded me so much interest as you in your -delirium."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have a strange taste," replied Ernstein, not altogether well -pleased, in the first instance, at the explanation of his companion's -feelings. A moment's reflection, however, convinced him that there was -some affectation in the account, but that the affectation was of that -generous kind which seeks to diminish the value of an obligation -conferred upon another, even at the risk of appearing hard or selfish. -"Well," he continued, "your motives are your own affairs; but the -kindness you have shown me is mine, and I must feel gratitude -accordingly."</p> - -<p class="normal">While they were still speaking, the surgeon again entered, and his -appearance put a stop to the conversation for the night. On the -following morning, however, the patient was so far better as to be -permitted to rise for a short time, and his fellow-traveller visited -him towards the middle of the day, announcing that he came to bid him -farewell, as he had just received letters which summoned him to -London. "I do not go unwillingly," he continued, "for my plan of life -is ever to hasten forward. Existence is so short that we have no time -for long pauses anywhere; each joy of each period--each thought, each -feeling of each period of animal being should be tasted, or they will -be lost, for we must never forget the great axiom, that every minute -we are a minute older."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But do you not think," said Morley, "that we may sometimes, in our -haste, taste a bitter instead of a sweet?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"So much the better--so much the better," replied his friend, -laughing; "it is by such things that we become wise. I am quite of the -opinion of your great poet, Coleridge, that--</p> - - -<p style="margin-left:20%; font-size:10pt">'The strongest plume in Wisdom's wing<br> -Is memory of past folly;'</p> - - -<p class="continue">and depend upon it every man will find in life, that to be very wise, -he must be a little foolish. The child that does not cut its finger -before it is eight years old, will cut its hand by the time it is -twelve, and perhaps its throat by the time it is twenty. What I mean -is--for I see you are surprised--that we must learn what is evil or -dangerous, by that acquaintance with evil and danger which is fitted -for our time of life, otherwise we are sure to get our portion all at -once, at some after period. It is like one of those medicines which -doctors tell us accumulate in the system, and kill us suddenly when we -least expect it; or rather, like one of those Eastern drugs, which are -very salutary when we take a little of them every day, but utterly -poisonous if we take a large dose at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Might it not be better for a healthy person to take none at all?" -demanded Morley; and added, the moment after, seeing his companion -about to reply, "but I am not fit to argue to-day, though I think that -your system has some flaws in it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Doubtless--doubtless," replied the other. "It would not be a human -system if it had not. Heaven forbid that I should originate a perfect -system of any kind! I would not commit such a crime for the world. I -will only answer your question, therefore, by saying, that if we were -on this earth in a healthy state, as your words suppose, it would -certainly be very foolish to take drugs of any kind; but depend upon -it, a portion of physic, and a portion of evil, are reserved for every -man to take, to suffer, to commit, and he had better spread them over -as wide a space as possible, that they may not be too thick anywhere. -And now I must leave you, for the coach will soon pass."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But," said Morley, eagerly, "I must ask you first, to tell me where I -can find you in London, for you will let me hope that an acquaintance -begun under such unusual circumstances is not to end here, and as yet -I do not even know your name."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is not Mephistophiles!" replied the other, who had marked with a -keen eye the expression of his young companion's countenance, at every -doctrine which might be considered as doubtful in tendency, and had -smiled, moreover, at what he considered the boyish innocence of Morley -Ernstein--"it is not Mephistophiles! I am a very inferior devil, I -assure you. My name is Everard Lieberg. In England, which is as much -my home as Germany, people put Esquire at the end of it. On the other -side of the channel, I put Graff before it, and the one title -signifies about as little as the other."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But tell me, Count, where I am to find you?" demanded Morley, the -other having risen to depart.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, do not call me Count!" exclaimed Lieberg, laughing; "if you do, -I shall fancy myself walking about London, with mustachios and a -queer-looking coat, and lodging somewhere near Leicester Square. No, -no, I put off the Count here, and I have a bachelor's lodging in -Sackville Street, where I shall be very happy to see you--so -farewell."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein was left alone, and, as usual with the young, his -first thoughts were of the character of his late companion. Before we -grow old, we learn that the character of nineteen men out of twenty is -not worth a thought. There was something in Lieberg that did not -altogether please him--not alone displayed in his opinions, but also -in his manner, a lightness which was superficial--not affected, but -habitual--and which covered the depths of his character with an -impenetrable disguise. It was like a domino, which, though nothing but -thin, fluttering silk, hides form and feature, so that the real person -beneath cannot be recognised, even by a near friend.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Has he any heart, I wonder?" thought the young gentleman. "If so, he -takes pains to hide it. All things seem to pass him by, affecting him -but as breath upon a looking-glass, leaving no trace the moment after, -upon the cold, hard surface beneath. Here he has nursed me like a -brother for the last fortnight, and now he leaves me with the same air -of indifference as if we had just got out of a stagecoach in which our -acquaintance had commenced two hours before."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley felt as if he were somewhat ungrateful for scanning so closely -the character of one who had treated him with much kindness, and, soon -quitting such thoughts, he rang for his good old servant, Adam Gray, -and enquired into all that had passed at Morley Court since he had -left it--the situation of the poor cottagers, whose fate he had -endeavoured to soften; the health of his horses and his dogs; the -promises of the game season; and all those things that the most -interest a very young Englishman, in his hours of health. The horses -were all well; the dogs were in as good a state as could be wished; -the game bade fair to be abundant.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But as to Johnes, and Dickenson, and poor Widow Harvey," the old man -said, "I can tell you very little, sir. They have had the money, and -the bread and soup; and Johnes had work at the Lee farm. Widow Harvey -got wool given her to spin, and I sent the apothecary to Dickenson, -but did not hear how he was; for you see, sir, I was just going down -to look in at the poor fellow's cottage, when Miss Carr came to tell -me of the accident, and--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Miss who?" demanded Morley Ernstein, in some surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, Miss Carr, sir, you know!" replied Adam Gray. "She was in a -great flurry, poor young lady, and did seem to be very sorry about -you--indeed every one knows she has a good heart, and does as much for -the poor as she can, though that's less than she likes, poor young -lady!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"And, pray, who is Miss Carr?" demanded Ernstein; "and why does your -compassion run over on her account, my good Adam? Why do you call her -'poor young lady' so often?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, because she has such a father, to be sure, sir!" replied the -servant. "Surely you recollect Old Carr, the miser, and his daughter, -Miss Juliet--a beautiful girl she was--and is, too, for that matter, -poor thing!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not recollect anything about them," answered Morley; "and yet I -remember everything for many years before my poor mother died. But no -such name as Carr ever comes back to my memory. Who is this Mr. Carr?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, ay, I recollect," answered the old man, "it was long ago--before -your time. But as to this Mr. Carr--he's a miser, and was a -lawyer--ay, and cheat into the bargain, if all tales be true. However, -sir, he's got money enough, they say, to buy out half the county; and -there he lives, in that old tumble-down house, at the back of -Yelverly, and not a shilling will he spend to repair it. He has two -maids now, but till Miss Juliet was grown up, there was but one; and -then the man that does the garden and looks after the farm, takes care -of the two horses. Miss Juliet, they say, has some money of her own, -but she spends all that upon the poor people about Yelverly, and upon -books."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley mused; there was a feeling in his bosom--not an operation of -the mind, but one of the revelations of the heart--which instantly -convinced him that the lady, whose horse he had contrived to frighten, -was no other than Juliet Carr. How she had discovered his situation, -so as to give notice to his servants, and send one of them to him, was -his first thought; but, before he gratified his curiosity on that -subject, by asking any questions, he returned to something which had -attracted his attention a few minutes before, demanding--</p> - -<p class="normal">"What was it you meant just now, Adam, when you said, '<i>It</i> was long -ago, before my time?'"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, the quarrel, sir," replied the old man--"the quarrel between your -father and Lawyer Carr; when he came about something, and vowed he -would prosecute Sir Henry for defamation, as they called it, which -means scandal, I take it; and your father struck him, and turned him -out of the house, and he has never been near the place since."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did you hear how Miss Carr knew that I was ill?" demanded Morley, now -fully convinced that his supposition was right.</p> - -<p class="normal">"She told me they had been passing by this place, sir," answered Adam -Gray, "and they heard the whole story from the ostlers; so she walked -over, that very night, to tell us, poor young lady! It's a long walk, -too, from Yelverly; so she was tired, and sat down for a minute or two -in the library, and took up the book that was open upon the table--it -was called 'Herrick's Poems,' I think--and asked if you had been -reading it; and said, she hoped that you would soon be able to read it -again, with such a sweet voice, she made us all love her. I do wonder -how that man happened to have such a daughter as that--her mother was -a good lady, too."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, that will do, Adam!" said his master; "now bring me some soup."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER V.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The next day Morley Ernstein was permitted by his doctor to go -out, -and strange, most strange, were the feelings with which he did -so.--There is nothing positive on earth but truth; all other matters -are relative. Truth, indeed pure abstract truth--is the starting point -of all morals, and without it we should have no starting point at all; -so that the world might well be Pyrrhonists or Epicureans, or what -they would, were it not for the simple doctrine that two and two make -four, and the consequences thereof; for, once having established that -truth is right and falsehood wrong, every other moral tenet follows -step by step, as a matter of course. That ethics are as much a certain -science, when rightly pursued and understood, as mathematics, I have -no more doubt than of my own existence, ethics being, in fact, the -mathematics of the spirit.</p> - -<p class="normal">But nevertheless, to return from our digression, it is wonderful how -many things on this earth are relative, which we fancy to be quite -positive; amongst the rest, every kind of sensation, every kind of -pleasure, every kind of taste; so that it is quite easy for us, from -our own occasional experience, to conceive how, in another state of -being, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, and cast away the -fibres of the flesh, many of those things that gave us pleasure here -below, will be abhorrent to us, and much that might seem dull, heavy, -incomprehensible to the animal walking in darkness on the earth, will -then, brightened by higher perceptions, be all light, and glory, and -enjoyment.</p> - -<p class="normal">With Morley Ernstein, however, as with all convalescents, the -sensations were not exactly changed from what they were before; some -were acuminated, some were softened, since he had lain on the bed of -sickness, and strange indeed were his feelings as he walked out, -leaning on the arm of his old servant. It was only into the little -garden at the back of the inn that he ventured, but it was all delight -to him. Nature seemed never to have been so bright and beautiful; the -broad bosom of each common rose that was planted by the side of the -gravel walk, appeared a chamber of enjoyment, in which some small -angel might well pass away the perfumed hours. The cobweb, spangled -with morning dew, was a miracle; the breath of the breeze was heaven. -There was withal a sensation of calm, peaceful repose within his own -breast, which was very different from the eager fire of his nature in -ordinary health; and during that day, and the one that followed it, he -contemplated with pleasure a return to Morley Court, to a long lapse -of dreamy hours amongst woods, and fields, and streams, with, perhaps, -some thoughts of finding out fair Juliet Carr, and thanking her for -the interest she had taken in him.</p> - -<p class="normal">Day by day, however, health came back, and strength along with it, and -eager activity with strength. The longing for objects on which to -spend the energies within him; the curiosity of a young fresh heart -for a knowledge of the deeper and more powerful things of life; that -ambition for the vigorous occupations of mature minds, which possesses -all who set out in life with strong bodily and intellectual faculties, -returned upon the young Baronet with every pulse of renewed health; -and four days after his first walk in the garden, he despatched Adam -Gray for the chariot from Morley Court, and on the sixth was rolling -away towards London.</p> - -<p class="normal">London is certainly the most wonderful city in the world, and probably -the most unlike any other on the earth. On approaching it, one is lost -in surprise from its immensity of extent--an immensity that makes -itself felt one hardly knows how. It seems to press upon you before -you reach it; to multiply its forms and appearances around you, when -you fancy yourself far from it; to surround, to grasp, to overwhelm -you, ere you know that a city is near. Nevertheless, when once in it, -the effect upon any one who is not an indigenous plant of the soil, is -anything but impressive. In general, the smallness of the houses, the -long rows of iron railings, the littleness of the windows, and their -numbers, give the streets a petty and poor effect; while the colour of -the bricks, which, when seen in grand masses, is imposing enough, has -there a dull and dirty appearance, very unsatisfactory to the eye. Add -to all this, the thick and heavy atmosphere, foul with the steam of -fifteen hundred thousand human beings, and full three hundred thousand -fires, so that a vast dome of smoke nightcaps the great capital, and -only suffers the sun to penetrate, as the dim vision of a brighter -thing.</p> - -<p class="normal">In summer, indeed, the extinction of all the fires--except those which -man, the cooking animal, maintains everlastingly, for the -gratification of his palate--leaves the English metropolis somewhat -clearer and brighter than at any other season of the year; and as it -was a warm and brilliant day, in the beginning of June, when Morley -Ernstein entered London, the streets looked gay and cheerful, and he -drove up to the Hotel in Berkeley Square, with that feeling of -pleasant expectation which comes upon us all when we enter a new -abode, where a thousand means and opportunities of pleasure, a -thousand channels and highways of gratification, are opened before us, -and where sorrow, and pain, and misery, and sickness, and death, are -hidden beneath those pompous and glittering veils with which it is the -business of society to conceal the abhorrent features of all that is -distressing and frightful in human existence.</p> - -<p class="normal">There are some people who, on entering a great capital, feel a weight, -an oppressive load fall upon their bosom, as if all those miseries of -which we have spoken were infused into the burdensome atmosphere of -the place, and were drawn in with every breath; but these must be men -who have lived long, and known sorrows tangibly, who have felt the -tooth of gnawing care, and the beak and talons of fierce anxiety, -preying day by day upon the bleeding heart. Such, however, was not the -case with Morley Ernstein; there seemed a well of hope in his bosom, -the waters of which possessed a power ascribed to those consecrated by -the Roman Church, of driving out all dark spirits from the spot over -which they were sprinkled. The busy life, the eager energy within him, -the warrior-spirit of strong animal existence, always ready to combat -the ills of fate, guarded the door of imagination, and suffered no -thought of coming evil to intrude.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus all things seemed to smile around him; and although the lilacs -and the laurels, the laburnums and the privets, which tenanted the -square before his eyes, might look somewhat dull and smoky, when -compared with the green trees of the country; though the air he -breathed might seem but a shade thinner than pea soup, and the noise -of eternal carriages might strike his ear as something less tuneful -than the birds of his own fields; yet it was not upon these things -that his mind rested. He thought, on the contrary, of all the wonders -of that mighty place; of the vast resources comprised within it; of -the intellectual pleasures that were there collected as if in a -store-house; of the magnificent monuments of art that it contained; of -the wealth, the abundance, the splendour, the beauty, the fancy; the -genius, the wisdom, the grace, with which every street was thronged; -of the vast and strange combinations that were there produced; of the -laws, the systems, the philosophies, the wars, the colonies, the -enterprises, that had thence issued forth; of the piety, the charity, -the benevolence, the great aspirations, the noble purposes, the fine -designs, the wonderful discoveries, which had there originated; -and--as if to give the finishing touch of the sublime to all--came -over his mind the vague, spectre-like image of the crime which there -had a permanent existence, an unchangeable and undiscoverable home. -Such were the feelings with which he viewed London, on returning to it -as his own master, free to taste, to examine, to inquire, to judge, -and to enjoy.</p> - -<p class="normal">It would require more time than I could bestow on any one part of my -subject, to trace the life of Morley Ernstein during the first -fortnight of his stay in London. With the eagerness of novelty he -followed various pleasures, sought out various amusements, and dipped -somewhat, but not deeply, in the stream of dissipation. What is called -the season was that year protracted to a period later than usual. Gay -carriages still thronged the streets in the end of June. The -Parliament continued its sittings far into July, and gaiety succeeded -gaiety, till those who had commenced the pleasures of a London life at -the beginning Of the year, with bright eyes and rosy cheeks, were pale -and haggard, with the round of midnight parties and crowded rooms.</p> - -<p class="normal">Not so Morley Ernstein: health and strength were returning to him -every hour, in spite of the current in which he was now immersed, and -by one of those strange physiological phenomena for which it is -difficult, if not impossible, to account, the vigour of his frame, the -impetuosity of his animal nature seemed to be increased rather than -diminished by the consequences of the malady which had nearly crushed -out existence altogether.</p> - -<p class="normal">The reader, perhaps, may think that the young Baronet shewed somewhat -like weak caprice, or still weaker vacillation of purpose, in plunging -into the high tide of gaiety, when he had set out for London with the -design of studying calmly and quietly his fellow-beings, and the -strange complicated form of existence in which they moved in the great -capital; but the difference between the execution and the design, as, -indeed, is generally the case, was produced by the operation of -external as well as internal causes, by the accidents of situation as -well as the vehement impulse of high blood and energetic youth, -contending against the calmer admonitions of a holier spirit within. -On his first arrival in London, he followed the plan which he had -proposed, and called upon no one but his guardian and Count Lieberg. -He felt himself, indeed, bound in gratitude not to make any -unnecessary delay in visiting either. The latter, with whom the reader -is already acquainted, had saved his life; the former had protected -his early years and had administered his fortune with anxious care and -successful wisdom. He, however, not being yet known to the reader, we -must bring him on the stage for a moment, and dwell briefly upon a -character, which, though presenting no very salient points, is -nevertheless worth studying as the type of a class. Mr. Hamilton was a -banker--an English banker, which is as different an animal from that -which goes by the same generic name in other countries, as the mammoth -or antediluvian elephant is from the elephant of the <i>Jardin des -Plantes</i>. He was a calm, quiet, reasoning man, of aristocratical -family, (his brother was a peer of the realm,) and of aristocratical -habits and manners. He had been selected from among three younger -brothers, to take a share in one of the great London banking-houses, -on account of his talent for calculation and his habits of business; -and during the course of a long career, he had shewn that knowledge of -detail and attention to minutiæ which is the essence of accuracy in -every sort of transaction. He possessed, however, another set of -qualities which are but too rarely combined in this world with those -which we have ascribed to him. His general views were broad and -extensive; his heart benevolent and kind; and he valued not in any -degree, except as a means, that gold with which he was called upon to -occupy his thoughts during a considerable portion of every day in his -life. There is many a reader who may, perhaps, say, "This character is -unnatural--this is one of those phantasms of ideal perfection only to -be found in a romance; every one knows, that the habit of dealing with -gold contracts the heart, and even if it does not diminish the -intellect, it so concentrates it upon one favourite object, as to -render it unavailable for all the grander purposes of life."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus, reasoning from abstract data, we may all produce very pleasant -criticisms, as philosophers have often produced very pleasant -theories, and yet be very wrong. The character of the banker is not an -ideal one; and though I certainly do not intend to make him the hero -of these pages, or to bring him often on the stage, I must proceed to -paint him, and must add another touch, which will add to the -incredibility of the whole. He was not ambitious any more than he was -avaricious. He had a family of several children whom he loved passing -well. His eldest daughter was the pride of his heart; she might have -bound her brow with a Coronet, or have seen herself mistress of the -most splendid mansion in her native land. With her father's full -consent and approbation, she married a man of no great wealth and no -very high expectations, having for every recommendation that he was a -gentleman both in heart and manners, and a gallant soldier of a -gallant race. This was not like ambition; and there are eyes which may -sometime or another rest upon this page, who have witnessed those acts -of generous liberality, which shew that wealth may be gained without -begetting avarice, and that the most expansive liberality is perfectly -compatible with the most clear and accurate knowledge of detail. Mr. -Hamilton was a politician as well as a financier, but he carried the -same spirit into all his proceedings, and displayed the clear and just -views which spring from a high mind, combined with the noble and -generous feelings which originate in a fine heart.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was the English Banker; it is certain that he might have some -faults, that there might be an error here or a weakness there; but I -envy not the man whose mental eye can gaze through the smoked glass of -a misanthropical philosophy, to discover spots amid such light as -that.</p> - -<p class="normal">To the house of Mr. Hamilton, then, Morley Ernstein's very first visit -was paid. He had always felt the deepest gratitude and regard towards -his guardian, and he was now well pleased to express all such -sensations at the end of that period, during which the one had the -right to control, and the other was bound to obey. Ere he left Mr. -Hamilton, he told him the plan which he had laid out for himself in -London, but the good banker did not altogether approve of it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are wise," he said, "Morley, not to plunge deeply into what may -be called innocent dissipations, but still the society of persons in -your own rank is a necessary which you must not deny yourself, not a -luxury which can enfeeble or injure the mind. Besides, my young -friend, if you would study man and society, you must study both -under their various aspects; nor must you look at them apart, for if -you would judge sanely, you must see, each grade acting and reacting -upon the other. The man of rank and station is but a mere automaton, -pretty to look at, amusing to examine; it is not till he is considered -in his relations with those around him and below him, in the reference -which his acts bear to his inferiors, to his equals, and to his God, -that you have the great moral agent, the most wonderful subject of -contemplation which this world can furnish. Such, too, is the case -with the inferior grades of society. All their arts, all their -thoughts, all their pleasures, all their sufferings, become tenfold -more interesting, tenfold more important, as an object of meditation, -when considered in reference to, and in comparison with, the pleasures -and sufferings, thoughts and acts of others. Beware, my dear boy, -beware, how, in your very outset of life, you gain a <i>one-sided</i> view -of the grand scheme of society. It is this capital error which is the -prevailing fault of politicians and philosophers. It is from this -error that we have so many declaimers, and so few reasoners. It is -this error which makes the staple commodity of those men, who are -continually exciting one class of society against another. It is with -this that they trade, and often win themselves most undeserved renown, -of which future ages will strip them, and leave them naked and -disgraced. It is this one-sided view which actuates the many good, -and, in some respects, wise men, whom we see daily altering laws -without mending them, and founding institutions without benefiting -society. See, my dear Morley, the lower classes, but see the the -higher also--see with your own eyes, judge with your own -understanding; but see all, and not a part; judge, but judge not -without knowing all that is in dispute."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will try to follow your advice, my dear sir," replied Morley; "for -I perfectly understand and appreciate your reasoning. I merely felt -inclined to look first into those lower grades, where so much misery -and crime, I fear, exist, thinking that I could study with much more -ease, the class in which I move myself, at an after-period."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Study them together, Morley," said the Banker; "look at no one part -of the scheme, without a reference to the other. When you consider me, -consider, at the same time, what influence my personal character and -habits may have upon the footman that opened the door to you, and upon -all my other servants. Then, if you will trace them home to the family -cottage in the country or the lodging in some little back street in -London, you will find, that just as I am a good or bad man, just as I -am a kind or unkind master, just as I deal well and wisely with my -inferiors, a corresponding result is transmitted through a long chain -of cause and effect, to the tenants of the cottage or the lodging, of -which I have been speaking. The same will be the case, though the -process will be with more difficulty perceived, if you begin with a -person in inferior station, and trace the results of his acts upon -those above him. I have known a casual word spoken by a vicious -servant, plant the seeds of vice in a young and previously-innocent -mind, which have afterwards produced a harvest of misery, desolation, -and remorse, in the bosom of a happy and virtuous family. I give you -this as but an instance, to shew that we are continually acted upon -from below, as well as from above. Take, therefore, the best means, -examine both at the same time: thus will you gain a perfect view, and -will not suffer the ideas acquired by the contemplation of one side of -any question, to be so fixed in your mind as to exclude those -arguments and facts which would modify or remove them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will certainly follow your advice, my dear sir," replied Morley, -"both because I am convinced that it is good, and because you give it; -but I only fear that my time in London will be too short to see -anything deeply, if, by comparing continually, I double the inquiry."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you know, Morley," said Mr. Hamilton, musing, "I am not sure that -there is not a greater, a more miserable kind of evil brought about by -studying only one side of a question deeply, than by studying both -superficially. However, my dear boy, dine with us to-night, where you -will see some of those in the higher ranks, who are worthy of being -known. There is a little party, too, I believe, in the evening, and -you can begin 'Don Quixote' to-morrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley smiled, and promising to join the Banker's dinner-table, turned -his steps towards the dwelling of his new friend, Lieberg. He easily -found the house, which, as the reader well knows, was in a very -central situation. The step of the door was washed with the greatest -care, and rubbed with the peculiar kind of stone, to that especial -purpose appropriate, till it was as white as snow. The door was of -mahogany, with a small lozenge-shaped brass knocker, and a -copper-plate fixed immediately under the instrument of noise, -recommending, with the soft persuasion of the imperative mood, that -the visitor should ring as well as knock. Morley Ernstein obeyed to -the letter, and without a moment's delay, a servant out of livery -opened the door, and replied to his demand, that Colonel Lieberg was -at home. The addition of military rank to his friend's titles did not -at all surprise Morley Ernstein; for there was in his whole appearance -a certain soldier-like look which is seldom acquired by a civilian.</p> - -<p class="normal">Every thing within the doors of the house was the pink of perfection. -The drawing-room was beautifully furnished, and in every part of it -were to be seen objects of taste and <i>vertu</i>, not precisely those -things which have acquired for themselves the technical terms of -nic-nacs, and serve but to please the eye or amuse the fancy; but, on -the contrary, things which appealed to the mind through various -associations--small cabinet pictures of great value, bronzes from -Herculanum, marbles from Greece and Rome, beautiful specimens of the -<i>cinque cento</i> workmanship, a little Venus from the hands of John of -Bologna, and two or three tables of exquisite Florentine mosaic.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lying on a sofa, near the open window, which was curtained, if we may -use the term, with manifold odoriferous flowers, habited in a -dressing-gown of rich embroidered silk, and with his fine countenance -full of eager interest in what he was reading, lay Everard Lieberg, -with a book in his hand, on which his eyes were so intently fixed, -that he did not seem to observe the opening of the door, till his -servant pronounced the name of Morley Ernstein.</p> - -<p class="normal">Starting up from the sofa, he laid down the book, and grasped his -young friend's hand, welcoming him to London, and congratulating him -on the full recovery which his looks bespoke. The conversation then -turned to Morley's plans and purposes, as it had done with Mr. -Hamilton. But Lieberg declared that he had already laid out -half-a-dozen schemes for Ernstein, which he must insist upon being -executed. There were beautiful horses to be bought, there were races -to be attended, there were singers to be heard, there were pictures to -be seen, there was a wonderful mechanical invention which brought into -action new powers in the physical world, there was a splendid orator -in a chapel in Sloane Street, there was the loveliest woman in all -Europe in the third box of the first tier of the opera, there was a -new pamphlet on the immortality of the soul, and there was a romance -of Balzac's, which seemed written for the express purpose of proving, -that--</p> - - -<p class="center" style="font-size:10pt">"Nought is everything, and everything is nought."</p> - - -<p class="normal">The multitude, the diversity, the opposition of the various matters -which Lieberg proposed for his pursuit, at once bewildered and amused -his young friend. But there was a fascination about his eloquence that -was scarcely to be resisted. He contrived to describe everything in -such a manner, as to place it in the most attractive aspect to his -hearer, seeing, with a skill that seemed almost intuitive, the exact -nature and character of his tastes and feelings, and shaping his -account accordingly. As an instance, his description of the lady, whom -he had beheld on two successive nights at the opera, was such, that -Morley almost fancied he must have seen Juliet Carr, although, to the -best of his belief, she was nearly two hundred miles from London.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I shall get bewildered with all that I have to see, to do, and to -think of," replied Morley, "and so I fear must leave one half of your -fine plans unexecuted. But at all events, we must classify them -somewhat better, for you have propounded them in rather a -heterogeneous form."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not at all, not at all!" cried Lieberg, "the very contrast gives the -charm! Depend upon it, we should not think half so much of beauty if -there was no ugliness in the world. Life ought to be like a Russian -bath, the hot and the cold alternately; nothing will strengthen the -mind so much, nothing will give us such powers of endurance, nothing -will keep the zest of pleasure so fresh upon us, nothing will enable -us to change with so little regret, as the changing periods of our -life compel us to seek new enjoyments, and follow fresh pursuits."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I should think," replied Morley, "that with your incessant activity -in the chase of pleasure, you would soon meet with satiety, and the -world's stock of enjoyment would be exhausted while you are yet -young."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Impossible--impossible!" cried Lieberg; "the world's stores are -inexhaustible to a man who has the capabilities of enjoying them all. -But come, Ernstein, we are losing time even now. Come with me to -T--'s; this is a sale day; I know of three horses that are perfect in -every point; you shall buy which of them you like, and I will take any -that you do not buy. Wait one moment for me while I put off my -dressing-gown and on my coat. There is 'Don Juan' for you, or a -Pamphlet on the Currency, as you happen to be in the mood."</p> - -<p class="normal">The horses were bought, and justified fully Lieberg's knowledge and -taste; and the rest of the day Morley Ernstein spent with his new -friend, hurried on from scene to scene, and from object to object, -with that impetuosity which suited but too well with his own nature. -At the same time, there was a degree of wit, sufficient to enliven, -but not to dazzle, a degree of eloquence, which carried away without -convincing, in the conversation of Lieberg, whatever was the subject -that it touched upon, which added interest to all that Morley heard -and saw, by the remarks which followed. Thus, when he returned home to -dress for dinner, his mind was in that state of giddy excitement, -which every one must have sometimes felt after a hard day's hunting. -As he made his preparations for the party at Mr. Hamilton's he -resolved that the next day should be passed in more calm and -thoughtful pursuits; but he little knew how difficult it is for a man -to halt in any course on which he has once entered vehemently.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER VI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The dinner-party at Mr. Hamilton's was such as might be -expected, from -the character as well as the situation of the man. Splendour, -chastened by good taste, reigned at the table; and as he possessed -none of the harsh austerity which sometimes accompanies age, although -his whole demeanour displayed that calm gravity which sits so well -upon the brow of years, the guests around his table were chosen from -amongst the most cheerful, as well as from amongst the best of the -society which London can afford. There were one or two distinguished -statesmen, there were one or two mere politicians--and these classes -are very distinct--there were one or two men of high rank and vast -possessions; there were one or two persons distinguished for genius -and for virtue; there were one or two gay young men, with very empty -heads, who chattered to one or two pretty young women, who were easily -satisfied in point of conversation. The rest of the party consisted of -the wives of some of those we have mentioned, and the family of Mr. -Hamilton himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">All were London people; all had been accustomed to mingle much in -London society: all were acquainted with everything that existed in -the part of London which they themselves inhabited, and in the society -with which they were accustomed to mix. I do not mean to say, that--as -is so common--they knew nothing more. On the contrary, the greater -part of the men and women who sat around that dinner-table, possessed -extensive information upon many subjects; but still the locality in -which they dwelt, and the society in which they moved, acted in some -sort as a prison to their minds, from the limits of which they did -certainly occasionally make excursions, but to which they were -generally brought back again by the gaoler, custom, ere they had -wandered far.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such is ordinarily the great evil of London society to a stranger. -Unless an effort is charitably made for the sake of the uninitiated, -the conversation of the English capital is limited to subjects of -particular rather than general interest; and where a Frenchman would -sport over the whole universe of created things, solely for the -purpose of shewing his agility, an Englishman's conversation, -following the bent of his habits, sits down by his own fireside, and -seldom travels beyond the circle in which he lives. The effect of this -contraction is curious and unpleasant to a stranger; but that stranger -himself, if he be gentlemanly in habits and powerful in mind, very -often produces a miraculous and beneficial change upon the society -itself. If the people composing it really possess intellect and -information, and the narrowness of their conversation proceed merely -from habit, there is something in the freshness of the stranger's -thoughts which interests and excites them. They make an effort to keep -up with him on his own ground; the animation of the race carries them -away, and off they go, scampering over hill and dale, as if they were -driving after a fox.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was the case in the present instance. Morley Ernstein, though he -had been in London several times during his school and college life, -knew little of it but the names of certain streets, the theatres, the -opera, and the park. He could not talk of what had taken place at -Almack's the night before. He was not conversant with any of the -scandal that was running in the town; he did not know who was going to -marry who; and was quite unaware that Lady Loraine had had two -husbands before, and was going to take a third. All the tittle-tattle, -in short, of that quarter of London in which fashionable people live, -was as unknown to him as the gossip of the moon; and during some ten -minutes, as he sat at a little distance from Mr. Hamilton himself, he -remained in profound silence, eating his soup and his fish, with as -much devotion as if the <i>Almanach des Gourmands</i> had been his book of -common prayer.</p> - -<p class="normal">After talking for some time to other people, Mr. Hamilton cast his -eyes on his former ward, and knowing that he was neither shy, nor -stupid, nor sullen, nor gluttonous, he wondered to see him buried in -profound meditations over the plate that was before him. At that -moment, however, his ear caught the sound of the conversation that was -taking place on either side of Morley.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The Duchess has such excellent taste," said the lady on his right -hand; "so she insisted upon it, that it should be dark green, with a -thin line of stone colour, between the black and the green, and the -arms only in light and shade."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Hamilton perceived that she was talking of the Duchess of -Watercourse's new carriage, but Morley Ernstein knew nothing about it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! but I know it did!" replied the young lady, on Ernstein's other -side, speaking to a young gentleman, who might quite as well have been -a young lady too; "it cost five hundred francs in Paris, and that is -twenty pounds--is it not? But then it was <i>à point d'armes</i>, and it -was trimmed with the most beautiful valenciennes, three fingers -broad."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Hamilton guessed that she was talking of a pocket-handkerchief; -but what she said was as unintelligible to Morley, as an essay on the -differential calculus would have been to her. At that moment the young -Baronet raised his eyes, with a curious sort of smile, to the face of -his former guardian, and Mr. Hamilton certainly read his look, and -connected it with their conversation of that morning. It seemed to -say--"Notwithstanding all your exhortations, my good friend, the study -of the higher classes of society does not appear to me to tend much to -edification." But Mr. Hamilton, who knew that there is such a thing as -being stupid by convention, made an effort to give his young friend an -opening, and consequently addressing the lady who had last been -speaking, he said--"Pray, what do you call <i>à point d'armes</i>, Lady -Caroline?--I confess I am very ignorant, and so, I fear, is my friend -Morley, next to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young lady coloured a little, and laughed, saying--"I was only -talking of a pocket-handkerchief which cost five hundred francs."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Was any one wicked enough to give it?" said Morley, to whom she had -addressed the last few words.</p> - -<p class="normal">"O dear, yes," she replied; "we good people in London are wicked -enough to do anything for the sake of fashion."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is candour enough, at least, in the avowal," thought Morley -Ernstein, and there was something in the young lady's tone as she -answered, which struck him, and made him conceive that his first -opinion of her mental powers, might not be altogether accurate.</p> - -<p class="normal">Let it be remarked, that, the very general idea, that speech consists -of words alone, is extremely erroneous. That the parts of speech, -indeed, which are beaten into us at school, and for which, during a -certain period of our lives, we curse all the grammarians that ever -lived, from Priscian down to Lily, consist entirely of words, is true; -but he who looks closer than any of these grammar-makers at the real -philosophy of language, will find that speech consists of three -distinct branches--words, looks, and tones. All these must act -together to make what is properly called speech. Without either of the -two last branches, the words rightly arranged form but what is called -language; but that is a very different thing. How much is there in a -tone?--what a variety of meanings will it give to the same word, or to -the same sentence! It renders occasionally the same phrase negative or -affirmative; it continually changes it from an assertion to an -interrogation. The most positive form of language in the world, under -the magic influence of a tone, becomes the strongest expression of -doubt, and "I will not" means "I will" full as frequently as anything -else.</p> - -<p class="normal">Tones, too, besides shewing the meaning of the speaker at the moment, -occasionally go on to display the character of his mind or the -habitual direction of his thoughts; and it was by this interpreter -that Morley Ernstein was led at once to translate the little -insignificant moral that fell from his fair neighbour's lips, into a -hint, that her mind did not always dwell upon the frivolous things of -which she had just been speaking. He followed the direction in which -she led: the conversation grew brighter, more animated; many persons -took part in it; many subjects were discussed; the freshness of -Morley's mind led others gaily after him. The vehemence and eagerness -of his natural character, carried him off to a thousand subjects, -which he at first never dreamed of touching upon; and in short, the -conversation of the next half hour was like the wild gallop which we -have seen him take across his own park; and, as then too, he ended by -leaping the wall at a hound, and plunging into a topic, which might -well be compared to the high road, being neither more nor less than -politics.</p> - -<p class="normal">A sudden silence followed, and the young gentleman, feeling that he -had gone quite far enough, drew in the rein, and stopped in full -course. The impetus however was given, the thoughts of those around -him were led so far away from all the ordinary subjects of discussion -at a London party, that they would have found it difficult to get back -again, even if they had been so inclined, which, however, was the case -with but few of them; and one or two of the elder and more -distinguished persons present, purposely led Morley on to speak upon -various subjects with which they judged him to be well acquainted. It -was done with tact and discretion, however, in such a manner as to -draw him out, without letting him perceive that any one looked upon -him as a sort of American Indian.</p> - -<p class="normal">On rising from table, a Peer who had figured in more than one -administration, drew Mr. Hamilton aside, and made Morley the subject -of conversation, while that young gentleman himself was talking for a -few moments with an elderly man of amiable manners, called Lord -Clavering.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A very remarkable young man, Mr. Hamilton!" said the -statesman--"somewhat fresh and inexperienced; but his ideas are very -original, and generally just. Is his fortune large?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very considerable!" replied Mr. Hamilton; "his father, whom you must -have known, left two large estates, one called the Morley Court -estate; the other still larger, but not so productive, in the wilds of -Northumberland. He succeeded when very young, and as you may suppose, -I have not let the property decrease during his minority."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know, Mr. Hamilton--I know, Mr. Hamilton!" replied the Peer, with a -meaning smile. "Would it not be better to bring the young gentleman -into the House of Commons? There is the old borough, you know, -Hamilton, will be vacant after this session; for poor Wilkinson -accepts the Hundreds, on account of bad health. My whole influence -shall be given to your young friend, if he chooses to stand."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Hamilton bowed, and thanked the Peer, but somewhat drily withal, -saying, "I will mention to him what your lordship says;" and then, -turning away, he spoke to some of his other guests.</p> - -<p class="normal">Not long after, the knocker of Mr. Hamilton's door became in great -request, footman after footman laying his hand upon it, and -endeavouring, it would seem, to see how far he could render it a -nuisance to every one in the neighbourhood. Crowds of well-dressed -people, of every complexion and appearance under the sun, began to -fill the rooms, and certainly afforded--as every great party of a -great city does--a more miscellaneous assortment of strange animals -than can be found in the Regent's Park, or the Jardin des Plantes. -Putting aside the differences of hue and colouring--the fair, the -dark, the bronze, the sallow, the ruddy, the pale--and the differences -of size--the tall, the short, the fat, the thin, the middle-sized--and -of name, the variations of which were derived from every colour under -heaven, black, brown, green, grey, white, and every quarter that the -wind blows front, east, west, north, and south--and the difference of -features--the bottle-nosed, the small-eyed, the long-chinned, the -cheek boned, down to the noseless rotundity of a Gibbon's countenance, -and the saucer-eyes that might have suited the owl in the -Freyschutz--putting aside all these, I say there were various persons, -each of whom might have passed for a <i>lusus naturæ</i>, were not many -such to be found in every assembly of this world's children. There -were some without heads, and some without hearts, some without -feelings, and some without understanding. Some were simply bundles -of pulleys and ropes, with a hydraulic machine for keeping them -going--termed, by courtesy, flesh, bones, and blood, but none the less -mere machines as ever came out of Maudslay's furnaces. Some were but -bags of other people's ideas, who were propelled about the world as if -on castors, receiving all that those who were near them chose to cram -them with. Others were like what surveyors call a spirit-level, the -fluid in which inclines this way or that, according to that which it -leans upon. There were those, too, whose microscopic minds enlarge the -atoms under their own eyes, till mites seem mountains, but who yet can -see nothing further than an inch from their own noses; and there were -those, also, who appear to be always gazing through a theodolite, so -busily gauging distant objects as to overlook everything that is -immediately before them. There was, in short, the man of vast general -views, who can never fix his mind down to particular truths, and the -man of narrow realities, who cannot stretch his comprehension to -anything that he has not seen. Besides all these, there was the -ordinary portion of the milk-and-water of society; a good deal of the -vinegar; here and there some spirits of wine, a few flowers, and a -scanty portion of fruit.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the midst of all this, what did Morley Ernstein do? He amused -himself greatly, as every young man of tolerable intellect might do; -he laughed at some, and with others; was little annoyed by any; and, -with a heart too young to be a good hater, he saw not much to excite -anger, though a good deal to excite pity. There were some, however, -who pleased him much. One or two young men, whose manners, tone, and -countenance he liked; and more young women, whom, of course, he liked -better still. He was a good deal courted, and made much of; and many -ladies who had daughters, marriageable and unmarried, sent people to -bring him up, and introduce him. Morley thought it very natural that -such should be the case. "Were I a mother," he said to himself, -"which, thank Heaven, I never can be, I would do just the same. People -cry out upon this sort of thing--I really do not see why they should -do so, more than censure a father for getting his son a commission in -the Guards. It is right that we should wish to see our children well -provided for; and so long as there is nothing unfair, no deception, no -concealment, the purpose is rather honourable than otherwise."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein knew that his large fortune and position in society -must cause him to be regarded as a good match by more than half the -mothers in England; he had heard so, and believed it; but he did not -suffer that belief to make him either conceited, or suspicious. "It is -a great advantage to me," he thought; "for it gives me the entrance -into many a house where I could not otherwise penetrate, and puts me -above the consideration of wealth, which I might otherwise be driven -to, in the choice of my future wife. Thank. God! I can afford to wed -the poorest girl in Europe if I find that she possesses those -qualities which I believe will make me happy."</p> - -<p class="normal">With these feelings, Morley Ernstein could hardly fail to make himself -agreeable in the society of women; and certain it is, that many of -those intriguing mothers, who go beyond that just limit which his mind -had clearly fixed, thought, when they saw his careless and -unsuspicious manner, his want of conceit in the gifts of fortune, and -the readiness with which he met any advances, that he would be an easy -as well as a golden prize, and prepared themselves to do battle with -their rivals in the same good cause, for the possession of the young -Baronet. They found themselves mistaken, for the simplest of all -reasons, that mothers who could scheme, and contrive, and deceive, for -the purpose of entangling him, were precisely those who could by no -possible means bring up a daughter in such a way as to satisfy, even -in manners, the young heir of Morley Court.</p> - -<p class="normal">However, the evening passed pleasantly for Morley Ernstein. He was -amused, as I have said; but, in truth, there was something more. He -was interested and excited. Where is the young man of one-and-twenty -to be found, who will not let his heart yield, in a great degree, to -the effect of scene and circumstance?--to the moving of fair and -graceful forms around him?--to the sound of sweet voices, mingled with -music?--to the glittering of bright jewels, and of brighter eyes? and -to soft words and gentle looks, enlivened from time to time by flights -of gay wit, or even thoughtless merriment. Morley certainly passed -through the rooms, criticising as he went, and found much interest in -examining the characters of the persons present; but that was not all: -he gradually became one of them himself in feeling, took an individual -interest as well as a general one, in what was going on, shared in the -excitement, and went home at length, after having enjoyed the whole -probably ten times as much as any one there, except it was some young -girl of eighteen, who met the man she hoped might love her, or some -unknown youth who had never before obtained admission to the higher -classes of English society.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER VII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The general diffusion of knowledge is a very great thing, no -doubt, -and the cultivation of intellectual powers, in every grade of life and -class of society, may probably produce a very excellent result; but -yet, the man who goes about the world with his eyes open--it is -certainly very rare to find such a man, for the great mass of human -beings decidedly keep their eyes shut altogether, or, at best, but -half unclosed--the man who goes about the world with his eyes open -will be inclined, from a great number of very curious facts that he -perceives, to deduce a theory, or, perhaps, if that be too positive a -term, we may say, to build up an hypothesis, very much at variance -with the dream of the French philosophers before the first revolution, -regarding the perfectibility of human nature. He will be inclined to -imagine that the will of God may allot to a certain number of mortals -only a certain portion of genius, and that when a very great share of -this genius is concentrated in a few individuals of the number, the -rest of the multitude remain dull and incapable, while the few produce -the most sublime fruits of human intellect; and, on the contrary, -where the allotted portion of talent is spread over a great surface, -divided amongst many, not only few distinguish themselves from the -rest, but none produce anything equal to the works brought into being -by the two or three more gifted men which we have referred to in the -other case. Thus, in the present age, where all is light, in not one -of the arts do we find such wonderful results as we might anticipate -from the general diffusion of knowledge. It is very true, great -discoveries have been made--that we have had Herschells, La Places, -Faradays--that we have discovered steam-engines, railroads, electric -telegraphs; but, though the assertion may seem bold, the gauge of -original powers in the human mind is to be found more in the arts than -in the sciences. The sciences build upon tradition; they are -cumulative, and all the generations of the past together hold out the -hand to raise up the diligent aspirer to a height above themselves. -Not so the arts; for though the scientific part of each may be -improved, by, the accumulation of knowledge, that part which gives -them their fire and vigour depends upon the genius of each individual -artist; and just in the same proportion as you find a certain degree -of skill very generally diffused, you will find a multitude of poets, -painters, statuaries, and a sad deficiency of excellence amongst them.</p> - -<p class="normal">Nothing, perhaps, shewed the grandeur and the grasp of ancient art -more strongly than the vigour with which the old painters used the -effect produced upon the human mind by the power of contrast, and the -infinite skill with which they employed that power, so as never to -violate those essential principles of harmony which affect painting -and sculpture fully as much as they affect music and poetry. Where is -the man of the present day who can set red, and yellow, and blue -garments side by side with hues of the most sparkling brightness, and -yet in no degree offend the eye, or produce the least sensation of -harshness upon the mind? So, nevertheless, it is in the paintings of -almost all the finest old masters; and we shall also find, that in -life itself, one of the greatest zests to enjoyment is striking -contrast, provided we can obtain it without any harshness of -transition.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein sat at breakfast, on the following day, somewhat later -than usual, thinking over all the people and the things he had seen, -and all the words and sounds he had heard, and as, though somewhat -variable in his moods, he was not one of those monsters of philosophy -who come out into the world at the age of one-and-twenty, like Minerva -all armed from the head of Jove, with a sombre and supercilious -disgust for common life and its vanities--as he was, in short, neither -less nor more than an eager, impetuous, though talented and feeling, -young man, it must be confessed, he felt a little of that sort of -giddiness of brain, and hurry of ideas, which follows excitement of -any kind. His reveries, however, were soon broken in upon by the -appearance of his friend Lieberg, who did not take the seat placed for -him, but immediately exclaimed--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come, Ernstein, you are on the search for strange things; I have one -all ready for you. I am going to Bow-street, and on what occasion I -will tell you by the way. There you may make a mental breakfast upon -all the rogues and vagabonds that are served up fresh every morning -about eleven, like new shrimps at Worthing."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I shall be delighted," replied Morley. "I long extremely to see a -good deal more of those gentry; they and their manners have always -formed a subject of wonder and interest for my imagination."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You may pamper its appetite here to the full," answered Lieberg; "but -come, I shall be late."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein was speedily equipped and rolling along in Lieberg's -cabriolet towards that street where, in days of yore, a thieves' -coffee-house appeared on one side of the way, nearly opposite to the -place whence so many of them were sent to trial and to death. As a -Bow-street officer once expressed it--"The house had been established -there, that the gentlemen might always be ready when they were -wanted." As they proceeded, Lieberg told him that his pocket had been -picked of a gold snuff-box, coming out of the opera on the preceding -night.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The thing was done in the most deliberate manner," he said. "I found -myself pressed upon very hard by three strong fellows, and feeling a -sort of waving undulation of my pocket behind, I turned round to look, -and saw a very well-dressed man in the act of abstracting the box, -without any great ceremony or delicacy. With the fullest intentions of -knocking him down, I was prevented from moving in many way by the two -men who pressed me on either side, and who, by a well-devised method -of squeezing their victim, held me as if in a vice. Scarcely could I -turn my head round again, when I found something tugging hard at my -watch; luckily there was a strong guard round my neck, but, -nevertheless, after the conquest of my snuff-box had been fully -effected, the fellow who was before me still gave two hearty pulls, -and when he ceased, had the impudence to say, with a grin--'That's a -good chain, sir--I'd advise you to take care of it.' They then shouted -to each other--'Be off--be off!' and began running up the Haymarket -at full speed. I chased the man who had got the box for some way, -crying--'Stop thief!' A watchman sprang his rattle, and tried to seize -one of the fellows; but, by a dexterous movement, the pickpocket -tripped up the poor Charley's feet, and he, rolling down before me, -stopped one for the moment, and the fellows escaped. I immediately -sent for a Bow-street officer, described my friend who had got the -snuff-box, and this morning was told that he is in custody. A curious -hint, however, was given me by my good friend R----, the officer. -'Which do you want to do, sir--get your snuff-box, or punish the man? -You can't do both, you know.' 'To get my snuff-box,' I replied; 'so if -you can manage that for me, I can contrive not to be quite sure of his -identity, you know.' 'No, no, sir,' said R----, with a wink of his -eye, 'that's no go; you must swear to him positively, otherwise the -fellows will think you've got no hold of him, and they'll keep the -yellow. You be quite sure, and we'll have an alibi ready.' So you see, -Ernstein, I am going to play my part in a pretty farce."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke the last words, the cabriolet rolled up to the door of the -police-office, in Bow-street, round which were standing numerous -groups of men and women, whose character was anything but doubtful, -and whose appearance was certainly by no means prepossessing, whatever -their practices might be. There might be seen the face pale and -swollen from habitual drunkenness, looking like a moulded lump of -unbaked dough, with an expression which will bear no logical -description, though it was marked and peculiar enough. It was the -expression of stupid cunning, if one may use such a term, and is -seldom to be met with, except in the countenances of those in whom -drunkenness is only an accessory to other vices. There, too, might be -beheld all the terrible marks, with which crime brands upon the -forehead of the guilty the history of their faults and punishment. The -red vermilion lines about the mouth and eyelids; the swelled and -sometimes blackened eyes; the face covered with many a patch and -plaster; the hair rugged and dirty; the dull, downcast look, not of -active but of passive despair, seeing nothing round it, but fixing the -corporeal eyes upon blankness, while looking with its mental eyes into -itself. Oh! who can tell what it must be sometimes for the spirit to -stare into the dark cavern of the heart, with that heavy, straining -gaze, ineffectual, hopeless, finding nothing there--nothing to solace -or to soothe; nothing to elevate or to support; nothing from the past, -nothing for the future; nothing to be derived from memory; nothing to -be bestowed on hope. Nothing!--nothing! All blank darkness, blotted -over with the night of crime!</p> - -<p class="normal">Through a crowd of such beings standing round the door of the -police-office in Bow-street, Morley and his friend drove up to the -side of the pavement, and jumped out of the cabriolet, while Lieberg's -young groom sprang to the head of the tall, powerful horse, who seemed -as if he could have run away with him like a feather, and held him -firm with both hands, like a small bull-dog pinning an immense bull. -Along the dirty passage, the wainscoted walls of which, on either -side, about five feet from the ground, were traced with a -long-continued smear of greasy black, from the incessant rubbing of -human shoulders, Lieberg, and his companion, walked on--one or two -very doubtful-looking people giving way before the two swells, as they -internally termed them--into the room where the magistrates were -sitting.</p> - -<p class="normal">There were several persons already at the bar, and in the place -assigned to the attorneys were various shrewd-looking, keen-faced men, -with eyes full of business, while in one or two instances an -ostentatious blue bag appeared beside them. More than one personage, -however, who seemed merely, an idler, was also amongst the select; -while at the back of the part appropriated to the people, chatting -carelessly over totally different subjects, was a group of friendly -officers and pickpockets, screened from the bench and the bar by a -tolerable thick row of human heads, male and female, through the -interstices between which, a girl of fourteen, who seemed already a -prostitute, and a boy somewhat younger, were striving to get a view of -what was passing at the bar. The court itself possessed an atmosphere -redolent of a peculiarly disagreeable smell of human nature, mixed -with second-hand whiffs of beer, tobacco, and gin, which, to the more -refined noses of the two gentlemen who now entered the court, and -especially to that of Morley Ernstein, which was principally -accustomed to the free air and sweet scents of the country, was -anything but fragrant.</p> - -<p class="normal">The case before the magistrates was disposed of ere any notice was -taken of Lieberg and his companion; but then, the gentleman who had -relieved him of his snuff-box on the night before, being placed at the -bar, and the rank, station, and appearance, of the two friends being -taken into due consideration by His Worship, they were invited to take -their places on the bench, and the charge was entered into. Lieberg -detailed the whole affair, and swore to the prisoner's identity; a -keen-faced man asked him several questions on behalf of the prisoner, -and the magistrate, after giving the personage at the bar a proper -warning not to say anything more than he liked, interrogated him in -turn.</p> - -<p class="normal">The man positively declared, that the gentleman must be mistaken, -affirming, with a sly look and half-suppressed grin, that he did not -mean to impeach the truth and honour of such a gentleman as he was, -but that there was a mistake somewhere; for at that very hour, and for -a full hour before and after, he was with a club called the "Rum -Fellows," which met weekly at a certain house that he named. Very -honest men, they were, he said, though they was Rum Fellows, and a -number of respectable tradesmen too. He could prove it, he said, for -there were lots of witnesses. He would call one immediately, whom he -had sent for as soon as he was taken up.</p> - -<p class="normal">He accordingly called a Mr. Higgins, but for a moment or two Mr. -Higgins did not appear, and there was a murmur ran through the court -in consequence, which no one took pains to keep from the ears of the -bench, of, "where is he? where is he?--where's Bill Jones's alibi?" -and at length the call for Bill Jones's alibi was roared with a -stentorian voice along the passage, and transmitted to the -public-house on the opposite side of the street.</p> - -<p class="normal">A moment after, in rushed a short, stout, swarthy man, very well -dressed, after the fashion of a respectable tradesman. His coal-black -hair was as smooth as a mirror; his linen was clean, and white; he had -a pair of drab gaiters upon his sturdy legs, a black coat, a Marcellas -waistcoat, and a coloured handkerchief. His eyes were black and large, -his teeth fine and white, and on a fat little finger he wore a fat, -long ring. He was a little out of breath with haste, and, as he -appeared before the magistrates, he wiped from the corners of his -mouth the last vestiges of what the people of that place generally -term "something <i>short</i>," which he had taken to keep him fresh -before the court. He bowed low to the sitting magistrates, low to -Lieberg and to Ernstein, and then nodded to the prisoner at the bar, -exclaiming--"Ah, Bill! what's the matter? Surely you did not get drunk -last night after you left us!"</p> - -<p class="normal">His innocent mind being enlightened, in regard to the charge against -his friend, he swore most positively, that Bill Jones had been with -him and others, at a public-house named the "George," celebrating the -mysteries of a club called the "Rum Fellows," at the very hour when -Colonel Lieberg's snuff-box had been extracted from his pocket. He -swore that the said Bill Jones had been there an hour before and an -hour afterwards; and he did, moreover, what, to the uninitiated, might -seem a dangerous proceeding--that is to say, he entered into minute -particulars as to what Bill Jones said or did on that occasion.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, Mr. Higgins," said the magistrate, "if such be the case, -there must be, doubtless, others of your club who can swear to the -same facts as yourself; if the prisoner thinks fit, he can call -another witness."</p> - -<p class="normal">The prisoner was prepared upon this point also, and he accordingly -called a Mr. Farebrother. While Mr. Farebrother was being sought for, -Mr. Higgins thought fit to enlighten the court upon his profession, -saying, he did not see why his word should be disbelieved, as he was a -respectable tradesman.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, Mr. Higgins," said the magistrate, "I know you; you are a -pawnbroker. You may go down."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Farebrother presented an appearance the most opposite that it is -possible to imagine to that of his club-fellow, Mr. Higgins. He was a -small, thin, narrow-made man; with a coat of good quality, but -originally constructed for a much more considerable person than -himself. Indeed, he seemed to have a strong desire to be at room in -his clothes, for the slate-coloured trowsers with which his nether man -was ornamented, lapped vaguely over his shoes behind; which, if the -stockings were in harmony with those shoes, might be, upon the whole, -advantageous to him. His look was humble and sanctimonious, and, -either from tenderness of heart or of eyes, he had a weeping look -about him, which those who knew him believed to increase greatly under -reiterated tumblers of brandy and water. We need not enter largely -into the testimony which he gave; suffice it to say, he corroborated, -in every point, the testimony of Mr. Higgins, and the story of Bill -Jones.</p> - -<p class="normal">The magistrate, as a matter of form, asked him some shrewd, sensible -questions, premising them, however, by saying, in a low voice, to -Colonel Lieberg, "You wont convict him; the thing is too well got up."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Farebrother resisted manfully every attempt to wring the truth -from him; he had more than once been under the hands of Mister -afterwards Baron Garrow, and, consequently, there was not an art by -which a witness can be made to forget or betray himself, that he was -not thoroughly acquainted with, and ready to resist. Having terminated -his examination, the magistrate turned to the accuser, with a silent -smile, as if asking--"What am I to do next?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I certainly thought I was sure of the identity," said Lieberg, "and, -accordingly, swore to the fact; but, after what we have heard, I -suppose the matter must be given up."</p> - -<p class="normal">The magistrate accordingly dismissed the charge; but Bill Jones, who -stood upon character, seemed resolved to have the last word: "I hope, -your worship," he observed, "that I quit this bar with honour."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pooh! nonsense!" said the magistrate. "Go along;" and the worthy -gentleman slunk out of court, like a dog, under the influence of fear. -Lieberg and Ernstein took leave, and departed also, followed, a step -behind, by R----, the officer, who had been standing near the prisoner -during the whole time.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I beg your pardon, Colonel," he said, as soon as they got into the -passage, "but I sha'n't be able to come up to you, to-day, so here's -your box;" and he pulled out of his pocket, and presented to Lieberg, -the splendid box, of which he had been robbed the night before. "The -men will expect you to stand something, sir," he said; "but I'll do -what's right, and let you know what it comes to to-morrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do, do!" replied Lieberg. "But, harkye, R----, here's a young friend -of mine who wishes to become acquainted with what is going on in all -stations in society. Could you not give him a little insight into the -lives of such gentry as we have just seen?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lord bless you!--yes, sir," cried R----; "I will introduce him to -them all, if he likes; but, you know, sir, there's a proverb about -touching pitch."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If there's any danger in it," said Lieberg, "of course he had better -not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no danger in life, sir!" replied R----; "as I will manage for -him; but he had better mind his watch, and his purse, and all that; or -leave them at home. The gentleman, I take it, wants a lark; and if -that's the case, he can have it; but it may cost him something, -perhaps."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is not exactly a 'lark,' as you term it," replied Morley, in a -more serious and sedate tone than the officer had expected from his -years; "as my friend has told you, I want to see something of the mode -of life of these people, as well as others."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! you are a flosofer, sir--are you?" said R----, "or, perhaps, a -flantrofist! Well, sir, there's no reason why you shouldn't. It may -cost a pound in lush, or what not; but as for your being safe, make -your mind at ease about that; they know me too well to meddle with -you. I wouldn't introduce you to any of that sort of fellows. Why, you -know, sir, there are only two kind of people that set about regularly -committing a murder. First of all, there's the fellow that knows he is -well nigh up to the mark; he gets not to care what he does, and takes -his chance of one thing or another. Those are the old, bad hands, that -have been at every kind of thing for many a long year, and having got -down low, are not able to keep upon the quiet lay, but must make some -grand stroke to set them up altogether, or send them to the drop. Then -there are others, sir, that do it unaccountably--men that haven't been -half so bad as some others, who seem to take it into their head all of -a sudden; those are the fellows that give us the greatest trouble, for -we are not up to them; and sometimes we may be a week or ten days -before we find out who has done it. But I wont put you in the way of -anything that is dangerous. The best thing I can do for you, is, to -make you acquainted with Master Higgins, there; you'll find him a very -gentlemanly sort of man, and as he lost, I suppose, a matter of three -or four pounds upon this snuff-box, it is but right to be civil to -him. I could take you over there, sir, where they have gone to talk of -the affair; but I think you had better let me bring him to you -to-night, and then you can settle the matter together."</p> - -<p class="normal">This plan was accordingly agreed upon; Morley gave his address to the -officer, and as soon as it was dark R---- entered the young -gentleman's sitting-room, in Berkeley-square.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, you are alone, sir, are you?" said he.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes," replied Ernstein. "Have you not brought your friend with you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, yes," replied R---; "but I have left him behind, there, in the -passage, talking with your servant, sir; for I thought you might have -somebody with you, and might not like to have him seen."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley smiled at the officer's estimates of respectability; but he -merely replied, "Is he so well known, then?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, yes, sir; he is well known enough," said R----; "especially -amongst us. However, as a hood for what he was coming about, he -brought something to offer you for sale, as if he were a regular -tradesman."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Which, I suppose, he expects me to buy," said Morley, "as the price -of his favour and protection."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no, sir," answered R----; "you need not buy anything, unless you -like. He is always sure to get his market--it is the price that he -takes the things at which he makes by."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well! bring him in, then," said Morley; "and we will talk about the -matter afterwards."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Higgins was speedily introduced, and, as he entered, gave a rapid, -but very marking, glance round the whole room. It is probable, that -there was not a table, chair, or piece of china, down to the coffee -cup and saucer with which Morley was engaged when he entered, that he -would not have known again, had it been brought to pawn at his shop. -Mr. Higgins made a low bow to the inhabitant of the apartment, after -he had remarked upon the other things which it contained, and, seeing -that Morley was making as keen an investigation of his person as he -himself ever had made of any object for sale or pledge offered to him -by the children of vice and misery with whom he had generally to deal, -he thought fit to begin the conversation first, and cut short a -scrutiny of which he was not fond.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mr. R---- has done me the honour, sir," he began, in very tolerable -language, "of bringing me here, because, he said you wished to see -some little things in my way;" and having uttered this very equivocal -sentence, he held his tongue, and left Morley to take it up in what -sense he chose.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley was amused, but he replied in such a manner as still to leave -the task of explanation to the other.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am very much obliged to Mr. R----," he said. "Pray, what have you -got to shew me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The man grinned, to find that the young gentleman could deal in -equivoques, as well as himself. Ere he answered, he gave an approving -wink of the eye to the Officer, which might have been translated, -perhaps--"He is not a fool, after all, though he is gentleman." -However, he would not be brought to the point; and putting his hand in -his pocket, he produced a small shagreen case, which he opened, and -laid on the table before Morley Ernstein; displaying to the wondering -eyes of the young baronet, a pair of very beautiful diamond ear-rings. -Morley gazed at them for a moment or two, in no small surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">"They are very handsome, indeed," he said, at length--"they are very -handsome, indeed, as far as I am any judge of such things; but, pray, -what do you intend me to do with these?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"To buy them, sir," replied the man, quite coolly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I hope not to wear them, too," said Morley, "for that I shall -scarcely consent to."</p> - -<p class="normal">"O no, sir!" answered Mr. Higgins, laughing; "but such gentlemen as -you, are always wanting diamond ear-rings. Why, there isn't one of all -those ladies that you want to make a present to, who would not say -they are as handsome a pair as ever were seen. I will let you have -them a great bargain, too. Why, Lord ----'s young lady sold me a pair, -the other day, for twice the money, which he had given her only two -days before."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A pleasant comment on such sort of connexions," thought Morley -Ernstein; but he answered, aloud--"There is one objection to my taking -these, even if I did want them, my good friend--namely, that I do not -exactly know where they may come from."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man paused, and stared in his face for a moment.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha, now I take you, sir--now I take you!" he cried, at length. "But I -can assure you, you are mistaken; they are not exactly mine. I am -disposing of them for another party; but I think if you knew what an -act of charity you are doing in buying them, you would give the full -money willingly enough, and perhaps something into the bargain."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" said Morley, with his curiosity somewhat excited; "pray, who -do they belong to?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, as nice a young lady, sir, as ever lived!" replied the man. "Her -father was a clergyman, and her mother a lady of good fortune, and -amongst the tip-top of the world; but there was a law-suit about the -mother's fortune, to whom these ear-rings belonged, I have heard, and -that ruined her husband, and broke her heart. She died first, and the -parson not long after; and they left this daughter and a boy, who is a -wild one, with about a couple of hundred between them, and some -nic-nacs. Well, the boy soon got through his money, and his sister's -too; and from time to time he came to me, with a lot of things to -sell: His sister, he let out the other day, had kept him and herself -too by teaching; but now she hasn't had much to do for some time, -because she fell ill in the winter, and so lost her pupils. They are -well nigh starving, the boy tells me, and in the end she is driven to -sell her mother's ear-rings. She only asks forty pounds for them, -sir--I think they are worth a hundred."</p> - -<p class="normal">The story had every appearance of truth about it to the mind of Morley -Ernstein. Such things were very likely to happen; and the man told it, -too, like a true story. After asking why Mr. Higgins did not buy the -diamonds himself, and receiving the satisfactory answer, that he had -bought just such a pair before from Lord ----'s young lady, and could -not afford to buy two, as well as having received truth-like replies -to one or two other questions, Morley made up his mind somewhat -precipitately to do three things: to purchase the ear-rings, to find -out the brother, and to see if, through him, he could not do something -for the sister.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pray, where does this young man live?" he said, after having -concluded the purchase; "do you think he will have any objection to -speak with me about his affairs?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, not he, sir!" cried the man; "the young scamp don't mind talking -about them to the whole world. He's no shame left! He lives at No. 3, -Dover-street, New-road, and his sister too. A prettier girl I never -saw, in all the course of my life, for I went there one day."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley put down the address; and having dismissed this subject, and -arranged to make an expedition with the worthy Mr. Higgins, into some -of the most reputable resorts of rogues and vagabonds, on the -succeeding night, he suffered him and R---- to depart, waiting with -some impatience for the following morning, when he proposed to put his -Quixotic purpose, regarding the sellers of the diamond earrings, into -execution.</p> - -<p class="normal">When the Officer and Higgins were on the pavement of Berkeley-square, -the former whistled three bars of an air as popular in its day as the -elegant tune of Jim Crow has been within our own recollection. These -bars were whistled with emphasis, which ought in all grammars to be -considered as an additional part of speech, adding more significance -to a sentence than either noun or verb. Higgins seemed to understand -perfectly well what he meant, and said, in a tone of reply--</p> - -<p class="normal">"He wants to see life, Master R----. We'll shew it him, wont we? His -old servant told me that he was a tender-hearted young gentleman, and -did a world of good in his own parish!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER VIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein made all sorts of good resolutions--that is to -say, -not virtuous resolutions, because, as yet, there was no temptation for -him to be otherwise; but worldly good resolutions--the resolutions of -prudence, propriety, economy. In short, all those sort of resolutions -which one makes when one has fixed upon a certain line of conduct, -from feeling rather than from judgment, and wish to enchain our -purpose in its execution, by the exercise of that very power whose -sway we have cast off. Morley Ernstein resolved, then, that he would -inquire into all the facts with the most scrupulous accuracy; that he -would not assist this young man and his sister beyond a certain point; -that he would not assist the youth at all, unless he found that there -were hopes of amendment; and that, should such not be the case, he -would employ the intervention of Mr. Hamilton to give aid to the young -lady. No one on earth can doubt that these were all very prudent -resolutions. If he had been forty, he could not have been more -reasonable, though, probably, if he had been forty, he never would -have formed them. But resolutions are always the sport of accident, -and however harsh and hard it may be to say, yet I fear it is -nevertheless true, that the course of conduct which needs to be -guarded with such scrupulous care, had better never to be entered upon -at all.</p> - -<p class="normal">To return to Morley Ernstein. At the hour of eleven, his new -cabriolet, which the poetical coachmaker had assured him would roll -over the pavement like a cloud through the sky, and one of his new -horses, which, if the same figurative personage had beheld him, would -most likely have been compared to the wind impelling the cloud, were -at the door of the hotel, together with a groom upon the most approved -scale, bearing gloves as white as the Horse Guards', and the usual -neat, but unaccountable sort of clothing, called leather breeches and -top-boots. Morley Ernstein descended with a slow step, entered his -cabriolet thoughtfully, and drove towards the house to which he had -been addressed, not going above a mile out of his way, in consequence -of his ignorance of all those narrow turnings and windings which a -professed London coachman is fond of taking. The street was a small -one, and evidently a poor one, but Morley Ernstein had expected -nothing else, and the house was neat and clean, with a white doorstep, -a clean door, and a small brass knocker. The young gentleman's groom, -by his directions, applied his hand to the implement of noise, and -produced a roll of repeated knocks, which, in any other country, would -be held as a nuisance. A few minutes after, a neat maid-servant -presented herself, and, in answer to the question, "Is Mr. William -Barham at home?" replied in the affirmative.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein then descended, gave his name, and was ushered up a -flight of stairs, having a centre line of neat stair carpet, not much -wider than one's hand. The drawing-room into which he was shewn was -very nicely furnished with a number of little ornaments, not indeed of -the kind that could be purchased, but of the sort which a dexterous -and tasteful female-hand can produce, to trick out and decorate the -simplest habitation. There was a small piano in one corner of the -room, a Spanish guitar, with a blue ribbon, lying on the sofa, a pile -of music on the top of the piano, some very well executed landscapes -lying, half finished, on the table, together with a box of colours, -and a glass of water. All, in short, bespoke taste and skill, and that -graceful occupation of leisure hours, which is so seldom found -uncombined with a fine mind.</p> - -<p class="normal">The room was empty of human beings, and while Morley was making his -survey, he heard the maid-servant run up stairs to another flight, and -say--"Master William--Master William, there is a gentleman below in -the drawing-room wishes to speak to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was no reply; and after some running about, the girl returned to -say, that Master William had gone out without her knowing it. As she -spoke, however, there was a knock at the door, and, exclaiming, "Oh! -there he is!" she ran down to open it.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein remained in the middle of the drawing-room, with the -door partly unclosen, so as to allow him to hear the murmur of voices -in the passage below, and the moment after, some light foot-steps -ascending the stairs. They were not the steps of a man, and ere he -could ask himself, "What next?" the door of the room opened wide, and -a young lady entered the room, whose appearance answered too well the -description which had been given, for him to doubt that she was the -late possessor of the diamond ear-rings.</p> - -<p class="normal">She seemed to be about nineteen; and, both in features and figure, was -exceedingly beautiful. Dressed in mourning, there could be no bright -colours in her apparel, but every garment was so arranged as -tastefully to suit the other; and the whole was in the very best -style, if not absolutely from the hands of the most fashionable -dressmaker. Yet all was plain--there was nothing at all superfluous; -and, indeed, her beauty required it not. The luxuriant dark hair -clustered under the close bonnet, and contrasted finely with the pure, -fair skin, warmed by a bright blush, like that of a rose, which one -could hardly believe that the air of London would leave long -unwithered. The large and dark, but soft eyes, spoke mind and feeling -too; though there was an occasional flash of brightness in them, which -seemed to say, that mirth had not always been so completely banished -as it seemed at this moment. The whole face looked but the more lovely -from the darkness of her garb; and the beautiful small foot and ancle -were certainly not displayed to disadvantage in the tight-fitting -black silk stockings and well-made shoe. She bowed distantly to -Morley, as she entered the room, with a look that expressed no sort of -pleasure, adding--"The servant tells me, sir, that you wish to see my -brother. He will be here in five minutes; for I left him only at a -little distance, at a shop where he wanted to purchase something. Will -you not sit down?"</p> - -<p class="normal">She pointed coldly to a chair, and as she spoke, began removing the -drawings from the table; but Morley replied--"Perhaps I had better -return again; I fear I interrupt you."</p> - -<p class="normal">The lady looked up with an air of hesitation--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed, sir," she said, after a moment's pause, "I do not know well -how to reply to you. My brother will be angry, perhaps, if I say what -I think, and yet--"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley was not a little surprised at this unfinished reply, and he -answered, with interest, which, it is not to be denied, was increasing -every moment under all he heard and saw--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pray explain yourself, madam. I think you must be under some mistake; -but at all events, your brother cannot be made angry by what you say; -for of course, unless you desire it, I shall never repeat it to him, -or to any one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well then, sir," she said, gravely and sadly, "I was going to say, -however rude and harsh you may think it, that I certainly would rather -that you did not wait for my brother, and cannot but hope that he may -be absent also when you come again."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley smiled at this very strange reception, but still he could not -help thinking that there was some mistake. "Indeed, Miss Barham." he -replied, "this is so unexpected and extraordinary, that I rather -believe you are in error regarding me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no!" replied the lady in the same tone; "his description, sir, -was very accurate. Are you not Mr. Neville?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no!" answered Morley, with a smile, "my name is Morley Ernstein, -and I came with a view of doing your brother good and not harm."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ernstein!" she cried, starting with a wild look of joy and -satisfaction. "Morley Ernstein! Oh! then you are the gentleman whose -name was to the draft! It was you who bought the diamonds, then; but -my brother told me he had not seen you--that it was through a third -person--" and she blushed deeply as she spoke.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He said true, miss Barham," replied Morley; "it was through another -person, but from that other person I learnt something of your own and -your brother's situation, in explanation of the cause for which the -diamonds were sold."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! they should not have told all that!" murmured the young lady. -"How did they know it? It was sad enough to sell them at all!" and her -eyes filled with tears.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I made the inquiry," said Morley; "and came here, believe me, without -any intention of obtruding myself upon your confidence, but simply -with the intention of seeing your brother, and ascertaining whether -anything could be done for him. But now I am here," he added, "may I -venture to ask who is this Mr. Neville for whom you took me? I hope I -do not presume too far."</p> - -<p class="normal">"O no, sir," she answered, with a faint smile, accompanied by another -deep blush--"if you were aware, sir, of all that you have done by -giving that sum for the ear-rings, you would feel that you have a -claim to ask such a question. I do not know this Mr. Neville; my -brother says he is a man of fortune, but I do not believe it. I know, -however, that he has led William into sad extravagance, that he and -his companions have ruined him, and that William has ruined me, -leaving me literally destitute, till your kindly taking those trinkets -at a price I am afraid too high, has set me free from the difficulty -that pressed upon me."</p> - -<p class="normal">It may well be believed, that a young man of one-and-twenty, with a -heart not the coldest in the world, began to feel some sensations of -satisfaction at having met with the sister rather than the brother, -notwithstanding all the good resolutions he had previously made.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have the ear-rings with me now," said Morley; "you will easily -understand that I had no object in buying such things but to afford a -little assistance where it seemed needful. I am aware that it has -caused you much pain to part with these jewels. You must take them -again, and keep the money as a loan, till such time as it is quite -convenient for you or your brother to pay me;" and taking out of his -pocket the little case which he had previously sealed up, he offered -to return it.</p> - -<p class="normal">The fair girl drew back, however, though not without a look of -pleasure.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no!" she answered, "I cannot take them. You must excuse me--I do -not borrow money of--of--."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of a stranger you would say," said Morley. "But surely, miss Barham, -that objection may soon cure itself. When you know me better----."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, then," she replied, "perhaps I might feel differently; but now, -I cannot, indeed--besides, if my brother knew----."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Would he be angry?" demanded Morley, thinking; "if such were the -case, the youth would be more scrupulous than had been represented."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no!" answered the young lady; "but he would think--he would--he -would--I cannot explain myself," she added. "But before he comes, let -me express my deep sense of your generosity and kindness, sir. It is -what one so seldom meets with, that it touches me the more."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, then," said Morley, "shew that you do not reject it by keeping -these trinkets. I have no use for them--I can do nothing with them; -the money that I gave will never even be missed in my banker's -account; and, as I said before, you or your brother can pay me when -you can find it convenient. My object in coming here today," he added, -"was to see what could be done for him; and, as I was prepared to find -him somewhat wild and thoughtless, what you have said concerning him -has not surprised me. If I can befriend him, however, I will; but -whatever may result from this visit between him and me, let me, at all -events, be considered as a friend by you, Miss Barham."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have acted like one, indeed, this day!" she answered, with the -tears rising in her eyes.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then," said Morley, "as the first proof that you regard me as -such, take these things back: they only embarrass me."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, there was another loud knock at the door, and before the -quick step, which was instantly heard on the staircase, had reached -the room, Morley had placed the little case in Miss Barham's hand, and -she had received it with evident confusion and hesitation. The next -moment the door opened wide, and a young man, scarcely of eighteen -years of age, entered quickly, with his long and shining, but somewhat -dishevelled hair, tossed loosely about a face, quick and intelligent -enough, but bearing an expression both wild and cunning. His -complexion was very different from that of his sister, for he was very -pale and sallow, and there was a certain look of premature dissipation -about him, which is not easily to be mistaken.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here is Neville, Helen!" he exclaimed, as he entered; but the instant -his eyes lighted upon Morley Ernstein, he started, and looked both -surprised and annoyed.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ere anything more could pass, however, a slower step was heard -mounting the staircase, and through the door, which the youth had left -open behind him, appeared a fashionably-dressed man coming up with an -air of easy nonchalance, as if he were entering the abode of people -very much below him, looking at his boot, which he tapped occasionally -with his cane, and not raising his eyes in the slightest degree -towards the drawing-room--though the door, as I have said, was -open--till he was upon the very threshold. When he did look up, -however, and saw the figure of Morley Ernstein standing exactly -opposite to him, he started, with an appearance of even greater -surprise than had been shewn by the brother of Miss Barham; and at the -same time his brow contracted, and his eye flashed, in a way that he -seemed to think very imposing, for it was evident that his whole -demeanour had much preparation in it.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley, in the meantime, could hardly suppress a smile, at seeing the -man for whom he had been mistaken, and who had been described as so -much like himself. This Mr. Neville was certainly not less than -fifteen or sixteen years older; he was shorter, too, by two or three -inches, not nearly so powerful in make, and though dressed in the very -extreme of the fashion, which, in that day, was somewhat extravagant -in itself, he wanted that easy tone and indescribable grace which -marks the gentleman, both in mind and in station.</p> - -<p class="normal">The feelings of Miss Barham, however, were evidently anything but -pleasant, and it was with some satisfaction that Morley saw her draw -in a slight degree nearer to himself, as her brother and his companion -entered. All the parties gazed upon each other for a moment in -silence; but the very first words which were spoken, and which -proceeded from the lips of Mr. Neville, at once showed Morley that the -fable of the borrowed plumes might be acted in real life. "I say, -Barham!" he exclaimed--"what is all this, my boy?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley might perhaps have felt himself a little awkward at being found -alone with Miss Barham, by any high-toned man of his own class; it -might have produced an instant shyness--an uncertainty as to whether -he should explain the circumstance or not; but the words, the manner, -and the voice of the worthy who now entered, at once set him at his -ease.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mr. Barham," he said, "I called here to speak a few words to you, -but as I find you are occupied, I shall take another opportunity."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And pray, sir, who may you be?" demanded Mr. Neville, not suffering -the young man to reply.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I really do not know, sir," said Morley Ernstein, looking at him from -head to foot, with a contemptuous air, "why I should answer you any -questions, until I know who it is that presumes to put them to me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My name is Neville, sir--my name is Neville," exclaimed the other; -"have you anything to say to that?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nothing at all, sir," replied Morley, "as my business does not lie -with Mr. Neville, but with Mr. Barham."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But I am Mr. Barham's friend, sir," said Mr. Neville, "and he does -not seem to know you any more than I do. I am Mr. Barham's friend, I -say."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am very sorry to hear it," replied Morley, calmly, though provoked; -"for, from all I can see, your acquaintance does not seem likely to be -advantageous to him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, sir! oh!" exclaimed the other, with a furious look--"now, I -insist upon having your card. I will have satisfaction, sir--I will -have satisfaction."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, my dear young lady," said Morley, gently passing Miss Barham, -who was endeavouring to interpose; "I understand this gentleman, and -you do not.--I never give my card, sir, to people that I do not know. -If you are the sort of person I take you to be, such satisfaction as a -horsewhip may give, you shall command. If you be not such a personage, -and prove the fact to my conviction, I will either make you an -apology, or meet you in the way that you require. Stand out of the -way, sir, for I am very likely, at this moment, to throw you from the -top of the stairs to the bottom. Mr. Barham, I much wish to have a few -words of conversation with you, and if you could make it convenient to -call upon me to night, at Thomas's, in Berkeley-square, towards seven -o'clock, I should be glad to see you. You will ask for Sir Morley -Ernstein. Miss Barham, I shall have the honour of paying my respects -to you on another occasion."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Missed fire, by Jove!"--exclaimed Mr. Neville, as Morley descended -the stairs, opened the door, and beckoned to his cabriolet, which was -wandering up and down the street--"I say, what's to be done now? That -bird's worth plucking, and you are a fool if you don't do it. I must -have a feather, too, if it can be managed--but pray, introduce me to -your sister. Miss Barham, how do you do?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Miss Barham drew back. "I must beg to decline the introduction, sir," -she said; "I have no inclination to make your acquaintance; I told -William so, this morning, and he might have saved me the pain of -seeing you here, as his only pretext was an appointment to meet you, -and it seems that you had joined each other before you came in."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hey! how is this, Barham?" exclaimed the other; "I thought you had -talked to her about it all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So I did," replied William Barham; "but she is foolish. I tell you -what, Helen; this wont do--you don't know what you are about; and it -is all nonsense, too, because you have often told me about such things -that--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It will so far do, William," replied Helen Barham, interrupting him, -"that I will beg you will leave me my rooms to myself. If you do not, -I must take means to free myself from society I do not like."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, she passed through the door leading into another chamber, -and was heard to lock it behind her.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Leave me with her, Neville," said her brother--"leave me with her; I -will bring her to, and will join you in an hour at Williams's."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, mind you!" cried the other, somewhat sternly--"remember, my -lad, I have got my thumb upon you!" and uttering these words, Mr. -Neville marched out of the room. As soon as the door of the house -closed upon him, the youth knocked gently at that of his sister's -room. "Helen!" he exclaimed; "Helen!--he is gone. Do come out and -speak to me, there is a dear girl!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen Barham did come out; but her eyes were red with tears. "Oh, -William!" she said, "I wonder you are not ashamed to see me----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nonsense, Helen," he cried, "I have often heard you laugh at idle -prejudices."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Fie--fie!" she continued, not attending to him; "to wish to sell -your sister to such a being as that! I did say that there is nothing I -would not do to save you from destruction, but--oh! William----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, Helen," he said, "this is the only way of saving me from -destruction."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not now, William," she exclaimed, "not now! The money which you got -for the ear-rings will do for some time, surely; and before that is -spent, I may get some other means of keeping myself and you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You will never get enough to keep us comfortably," replied the youth; -"and as to that, it does not matter whether you do or not; I tell you, -the only way to save me from destruction, is----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is by my own, you would say," replied his sister.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stuff and nonsense!" answered her brother; "they never hang people -for that, Helen; and I tell you, that man could hang me, or very near -it, if he chose."</p> - -<p class="normal">The face of Helen Barham turned as pale as death, and she sank into a -chair without any reply, gazing in her brother's countenance, with -silent agony, for several moments.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is true, Helen," said her brother, doggedly, and setting his teeth -hard, "it is true what I tell you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Whoever heard of such horror!" exclaimed Helen Barham. "The brother -would sell his sister, to be the mistress of a low-bred, horrible -villain; and that villain would hang the brother, if the sister will -not consent to her own destruction. Is that it, William?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not exactly," replied the youth; "you twist the matter which way you -please, Helen. I said he could hang me if he liked, not that he would; -and as for the rest, Helen, I don't sell you. I only want you to do -the best for yourself, and for me too. You can never get enough by -teaching, to keep me or you either. You are fond enough of fine -clothes, I can tell you; and here's a man will give you as many as you -want. He will settle five hundred a-year on you, just as if you were -his wife. He can't marry you, you know, because he is married -already."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush! hush! hush!" cried Helen Barham, stopping her ears "hush! and -leave me. Do not make me hate myself! What did I ever say, William, to -make you think that I would become any man's mistress for fine -clothes?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," replied her brother, "but I have heard you say that marriage is -love; that a man and woman who have promised themselves to each other, -ought to consider themselves just as much married as if all the -ceremonies in the world had passed between them."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen hid her eyes in her hands, saying, "I have been very foolish, -William, and I have talked wildly; but you have misunderstood -me--sadly, too. I meant, that they had never a right to break that -promise. Love!--can you talk to me of love with such a man as that?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, I suppose, then, you are in love with the other I found here," -said her brother. "Pray, what was he doing here with you alone?--What -is it he wants with me, too?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He wants," exclaimed Helen, her face brightening up with renewed -hope--"he wants to save you, William; he wants to aid you--to deliver -you, if you will let him. Go to him, William--go to him; tell him the -whole--tell him all the truth, and, I am sure, if it be in the power -of man to help you, he will. He is generous and kind; and came here -for the purpose of assisting you; he came not to see me; but the man -from whom he bought the diamonds told him something about you, and he -came on purpose to offer you aid."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That old fool, Higgins, has made a blunder," said the youth, -thoughtfully; "I'll go and call upon him, Helen, and see if anything -can be got out of him; but, as to telling him the whole, you do not -think me such a fool, do you, to put my neck in two men's power, -because it happens to be in that of one? You seem to be mightily -smitten with him, Helen; and perhaps might not object to the -arrangement there, eh? But, I'll tell you what--that wont do, my lady. -Neville's the man, depend upon it; and I insist that you treat him -civilly, at least. For to-day, I must quiet matters down as well as I -can, but to-morrow I shall bring him here to tea."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen Barham again burst into tears, and in that state the youth left -her. But ere half an hour was over, Mr. Neville was again in the -house, and, passing by the maid, he entered the drawing-room -unannounced, saying, he "only wanted to speak two words to Miss -Barham." He certainly was not long with her, and what he said was in a -low tone, for the maid, who was not at all inquisitive, could not -catch the words through the keyhole of the door. In less than a minute -and a half, he quitted the house again, and the maid looked at him -from the parlour-window, as he mounted a beautiful horse and rode -away. The moment after, she heard something heavy fall in the room -above, and running up, found Helen Barham lying senseless on the -floor.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER IX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">I a not fond of scenes of low vice; I love not to dwell upon -them. -Although in endeavouring to form for myself a just estimate of human -nature, to learn, for the sake of comparing them, the effects produced -upon the mind of man by every station of life, and every earthly -pursuit, I have visited the haunts of the low and the guilty, and -mingled, for a brief season, with the profligate, the criminal, and -the base, in many of the countries that my feet have trod, yet I look -back upon such moments, and such scenes, as a physician may be -supposed to look back upon the lazar-house and the plague-hospital, -whither he has gone for instruction, but which he recollects with -horror and with pain.</p> - -<p class="normal">What was very justly said, by a man who had made acquaintance, -actuated by no evil views, with that most miserable class of -beings--the fallen women of a great city--that "each carries a tragedy -about with her," may well be said of the criminals who every day -expose themselves to fresh punishment by fresh crimes. It is not, -indeed, with the latter as with the other unhappy beings I have just -mentioned, that there is always a fund of broken hopes and lost -affections and crushed sensibilities; for man, made of sterner stuff, -often strides on rapidly into evil by his own choice, and corrupts -himself with his eyes open. With men the tragedy is not enacted in -their own heart; it is amongst parents, relations, friends--amongst -those who have built up their hopes and loves upon a being who shakes -them all to the ground, and leaves scarcely a ruin standing. But even -were it not for this--were the criminal alone in all the world--had he -disappointed no father's brightest wishes--had broken no mother's -heart had he never scattered dismay and sorrow round the fond domestic -hearth, nor cast the shadow of the Upas on the hearts of brothers and -sisters, surely the degradation of high intellect, the debasement of -all man's powers, corporeal and mental, the extinction of bright -innocence, the condemnation of an immortal spirit, are tragic acts, -enough to wring the heart of even the sternest when he beholds crime. -It is the apathy of age, the deadened sense of habit, or the levity of -youth, that enable us all to walk almost indifferent through scenes, -where, every day, sorrow, and sin, and destruction, are taking hold of -beings like ourselves.</p> - -<p class="normal">The character of Morley Ernstein, as I have before depicted it, will -enable the reader to judge easily of the feelings with which he -visited, in company with Mr. Higgins, one of the nocturnal meetings of -a body of notorious criminals. The eager and impetuous part of his -nature was, for the time, predominant; and the spirit of adventure -which the act implied, heightened by a change of dress, with which the -worthy pawnbroker had furnished him, and the novelty of the whole -scene, made him feel amused rather than otherwise, and caused him to -forget altogether the more painful aspect of that which was before his -eyes.</p> - -<p class="normal">I will not dwell upon all that took place, though, for reasons which -will be seen hereafter, it is necessary to touch upon these events in -some degree. Suffice it to say, that Mr. Higgins introduced his young -friend, pledged himself for his <i>honesty</i>, and bestowed such -commendations upon him as the society and the circumstances required. -Morley, not very many years before, had been at a public school, -where, amongst other branches of learning, nothing is acquired more -thoroughly than the art of making one's way in every sort of male -society. On this occasion he gave himself up to the impulse of the -moment, and, without affecting to talk their slang, or imitate their -manners, he soon found himself highly popular amongst the ruffians by -whom he was surrounded. There was a blithe jollity about them, which, -probably, nothing but utter recklessness of all that others hold dear -could produce; and one of the men in particular, whom the rest called -Harry Martin, had a gay, good-humoured frankness; a daring, insolent, -but cheerful merriment, which Morley could very well conceive might -prove not a little engaging to persons of his own class. Martin also -seemed struck and amused with Morley, laughed with him, talked with -him, tried to make him drink, and, not being successful, had many a -joke at his puny habits, even while he evidently admired his -self-command.</p> - -<p class="normal">After having remained with these men for about an hour, Morley -perceived a note brought in, or rather a scrap of paper, for it was -not doubled up into the form of a letter, which, being handed to Harry -Martin, he replied--"Oh, very well;" and pushed it over to Higgins. A -momentary consultation ensued, and then a youth of about two or three -and twenty was singled out, and placed at the top of the table, when -Martin, pulling out a handsome gold watch, remarked, aloud--</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is now half-past nine, gentlemen; and this is our friend, Billy -Barham."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein stared. Although the name was similar, there was not -the least resemblance in the world, between the Billy Barham before -his eyes, and the William Barham whom he had seen in the morning. -However, everything went on as before; Billy Barham laughing, -drinking, and talking with the rest, and his friends around always -taking especial care to address him by his two names.</p> - -<p class="normal">After a certain space of time, Morley found the scene begin to grow -tiresome. It was not exactly what he had expected; there was less -distinctive character about it than he had imagined he should find; -very little, indeed, to bring away, or which could bear in any degree -upon views of philosophy, or serve the purposes of instruction. He -accordingly gave Higgins, who sat next to him, the signal that had -been agreed upon, as indicating his wish to depart.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay a bit, sir," whispered Higgins--"stay a bit. We mustn't go yet, -the time's not up."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley accordingly remained, till Higgins informed him that they might -go, adding, in the same low tone--"You'll pay for the lush, I -suppose."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, yes!" replied Morley; but, upon putting his hand into his pocket, -where he had left a few sovereigns for accidental expenses, he found -that they had disappeared. He uttered not a word, however, in regard -to his suspicions, though he saw the eyes of Higgins, Martin, and one -or two others upon him at the moment.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come, Mr. Higgins," he said, "you know me well enough to trust me. -You pay the reckoning for us all, for I have forgot to bring any -money."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's a hearty, now!" cried Martin, tossing down the sovereigns upon -the table--"they've been handed up to me; but I wouldn't take them -from such a fellow, for my little finger."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well then," said Morley, leaving them on the table--"let all that is -over the reckoning, be spent by the party, and so good night to you -all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We'll drink your health, sir!" cried one of the persons present, and -with such benediction, Morley and Higgins were suffered to depart.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And now, Mr. Higgins," said Morley, as, after treading a great number -of narrow streets, they entered King-street, Covent Garden--"pray, -tell me, was that young man's name--I mean the one they took up to the -top of the table--really William Barham, as well as the youth you -mentioned to me yesterday?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lord bless you!--no, sir," replied Higgins, "no more than yours!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then, why did they call him so?" demanded Morley Ernstein.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, that's a bit of a secret, sir," replied Higgins; "but, however, -I don't mind telling you; and now, let me see how I can manage to make -you understand. You know something of an alibi already, I think, sir. -Well, you see, many a good witness might be caught tripping, if he -were to come into court with a story told him by another: and so, when -we know that any one is upon the lay, or have notice given us that -something's going on, where such and such men that we know may chance -to put themselves in need of an alibi, we call one or two of the -fellows present, by the names of the men that are out, and talk to -them all night as such. Then every man that is there present, can -swear with a safe conscience, that he saw Billy Barham, or any one -else, at this house or that, and he can swear to the place, and name -what was said, and be quite sure that if any one else is called he -will swear to the same likewise; so that there can be no contradicting -oneself or one another. That's the way we get up an alibi. So, you -see, to-night some one sent in to say that Billy Barham was out upon -some job; and though he did not tell us himself, we did the thing just -out of kindness to him, because he's a young hand. But it wont do, -sir; he'll get pulled up some of these days! He is going it a great -deal too fast."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I should think so, indeed," said Morley; "and, pray, Mr. Higgins, -who is a personage named Neville?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, sir," replied Higgins, "Neville was what we call a <i>prime swell</i>; -he's getting a little bit down now, but I can recollect the time when -his line of business was altogether on the race-course, and at certain -houses in the neighbourhood of St. James's. Then he took to getting -money by lending it, and as long as he kept to pianoforte selling, and -all that, it did very well; but he was fool enough to let a story get -into the papers, about his filching some bills, and though the -serjeant cleared him of that cleverly, it blowed him a great deal. -Then he got horsewhipped one day, and shewed a little bit of the white -feather, and that did him no good with any party. But, if you are -asking because of what happened this morning, I can put you up to all -that in no time."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" said Morley. "Then you have heard all about this morning's -business, it seems."</p> - -<p class="normal">"To be sure!" replied Higgins. "The stupid young fool came to me -to-night, about six o'clock, or so, and told me the whole; so I shewed -him that Neville would never do for his sister, and told him what I -wanted to make up for her. I said to him: 'There's Sir Morley -Ernstein, he may do very well, if you like, and what he promises he'll -keep; but as for Neville, he may have a hundred pounds in his pocket -to-day, and not twopence to-morrow; and as for his doing what he says -he will, even when he can, there's no use in trusting to that.' We -know him well enough--Master Neville. He's not a man of honour, sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">A new light was beginning to shine upon Morley Ernstein; he was now, -indeed, seeing human existence, under a fresh aspect; he was too young -to be suspicious, but yet he had heard a good deal of the world, if he -had not mingled with it much; and the horrible scheme of villany and -vice, of which the reader is already aware, but which now first broke -upon him, made him ask himself, which were the agents, which the -victims, in the sad affair wherein he had himself become so suddenly -and unexpectedly a participator? or, was he alone the object of this -nefarious arrangement? Was Helen Barham, beautiful and high-minded as -she seemed, but a light woman, seeking for some new paramour; or was -she in reality what she appeared, and a mere victim to be immolated by -the criminal selfishness of her brother? He paused then, for several -minutes, without making any answer; he was, in fact, putting on his -armour, if one may so call it, finding himself suddenly attacked in a -manner that he did not expect. Accordingly, after some silence, he -replied, "Well, Mr. Higgins, I think you spoke quite reasonably. She -is a very beautiful girl, certainly. Pray, who did she live with -last?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, sir; no," said Mr. Higgins, with more warmth than Morley had -expected. "She never lived with anybody that I know of--no, I'm sure -she hasn't--but I'll tell you the plain truth of the matter. I have -been given to understand, that you are a gentleman that wants to see -life; now you know very well, sir, that young gentlemen that set out -upon that lay, make a point, in the first place, of picking up some -lady. Well, sir, what I've got to say is no bad compliment to you, -either. I had seen this youth--this William Barham--almost every day, -for the last three or four months; and I had heard all about his -sister from him, and how she had laboured to support him in his wild -ways. Well, sir, I found that now, having pawned or sold everything he -had in the world, and almost everything she had, too, and done a great -many other things besides, which we wont talk about, he was determined -to sell his sister at last to some one. So, sir, when I saw you, and -heard you talk, I thought that you were one who, if you did take the -young lady, would not treat her as some men do, but, if some time you -liked to marry, and part with her, would provide for her handsomely. -It was that made me put you up quietly to go into that house."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A very hopeful scheme, indeed!" said Morley. "But it seems to me, my -good friend, that this youth, who is, evidently, as hopeless a -scapegrace as ever cut a purse, or trod the drop, has other views for -his sister."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, sir; he's a bad one," answered Mr. Higgins. "He's one that will -come to no good. He might have been in a very genteel way of business, -if he had liked it, without any risk either; but there's no keeping -him steady, and he's got into bad hands that don't care how soon they -ruin the young man altogether, provided they screen themselves."</p> - -<p class="normal">The moralizing vein of Mr. Higgins might, in some degree, have -surprised Morley Ernstein, had he not thought that there was something -equivocal in the good gentleman's expressions, and that, perhaps, what -he termed a genteel way of business, might be neither more nor less -than gambling, swindling, or thieving dexterously, and that the more -dangerous courses to which he alluded, might only be crimes easy of -detection. Mr. Higgins went on, however, after a moment's pause, -saying--"I can't help thinking, that young scoundrel has got himself -entangled with Neville, in a way that he'll not easily, break through; -Neville's got a string round his foot, I have a notion."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not understand exactly what you mean," replied Morley.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, I mean, sir," replied Higgins, "that the fellow has got Bill to -do something which might swing him, if Neville were to peach. I don't -know what it is, either; but I could soon know, if I liked."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then," answered Morley, "I wish you would like, and let me -know; and if ten pounds or so will get at the matter, I should not -mind giving it, though you know very well that I would not use the -information to the young man's harm."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I understand, sir, what you want," replied Higgins, while at one -comprehensive view he saw every possible use that a gentleman, -situated as Sir Morley Ernstein was, could make of the intelligence he -was desirous of obtaining; and, remaining perfectly satisfied that the -object was to frustrate Neville, and at once to put brother and -sister into his own power, he repeated, with greater emphasis than -before,--"Oh, I understand, sir--I understand!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"You will almost always find me, Mr. Higgins," said Morley, "at about -six o'clock, when I come home to dress for dinner; and, of course, I -need not say that I should like the information as soon as possible."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You shall have it, sir--you shall have it," replied Higgins, "if not -to-morrow night, for certain, the night after."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So be it, then," replied Morley; "good night! Mr. Higgins;" and -taking his way homeward, he left his worthy companion to pursue his -path to the shop.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER X.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">At the hour of ten, on the following morning, Morley Ernstein -sat at -breakfast with his friend Lieberg. He had come thither in haste, but -as his friend's servant was in the room, he had suffered the cup, the -saucer, the plate, the knife and fork, and every usual implement of -breakfast-eating, to be placed, before he touched upon the subject -which had brought him thither at that hour of the morning. As soon as -all was arranged, and Morley had scanned the whole of the beautiful -china upon the table, each piece of which was worth a Jew's eye--as -soon as the young gentleman himself had reached the middle term of his -first cup of coffee--as soon as some very thin broiled ham, and some -excellent caviare, looking like all the black eyes of a harem put -together, had been handed round--as soon, in short, as the servant, -having no pretext for staying longer, had retired from the room, -Morley Ernstein threw an open note across to Colonel Lieberg, -saying--"There, my dear Count, I have taken the liberty of referring -my gallant correspondent to yourself, though I fear it may make you -get up to-morrow an hour or two earlier than usual."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg read it, and smiled. "That will be exactly as you please, -Ernstein," he replied. "Of course, you are aware that it is not the -least necessary for you to fight that man, unless you like it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I will fight him, certainly!" replied Morley, "as a matter of -course. Having told him I would horsewhip him, or something -equivalent, I will not refuse to fight him, especially as he seems to -have got a friend to stand by him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You mean this Captain Stallfed," said Lieberg; "who writes you the -note? The greatest rascal in Europe, my dear Morley, except Neville -himself! the one a common swindler, the other a blackleg, of the very -lowest character. Nevertheless, I think you are very right, for -several reasons. In the first place, every man should do a thing once -or twice in his life, just to get over the novelty of it, and to see -what it is like--a duel, as well as every thing else. In the next -place, having made up your mind to fight somebody, you could not -choose anybody better to fire at than Neville. Whether you hit him or -miss him, your conduct may well be regarded as philanthropical. If you -kill him, the benefit to society at large will be immense; if you miss -him, you restore to him a rag of that reputation which was never -otherwise than in a very tattered condition, and of which there is not -now a scrap left. Then, again, my dear Morley, as you are known to be -a gentleman and a man of honour, and I am known to be a man of the -world, with a tolerable portion of respectability also, your fighting -Neville, with Stallfed for his second, will be considered as the -surest proof that you are resolved to fight anybody and everybody that -asks you, as nothing could justify such a proceeding except that -resolution. This will have the effect of sparing you the chance of -twenty duels in times to come; for, depend upon it, in this brave -world of ours, the reputation of a readiness to fight keeps a man -clear of a thousand petty insults and annoyances. There is one thing, -however, which I very much doubt--namely, that these men will ever -give us the meeting at all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is their affair," answered Morley; "the honour of fighting this -man, I can assure you, Lieberg, is not what I can desire; but, of -course, one must either make up one's mind to meet a man, or set a -great guard upon one's tongue towards him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not know that there is any 'or' in the question, Ernstein," -replied Lieberg; "with such a man as this, indeed, there are twenty -alternatives--kicking, horsewhipping, throwing out of the window, -sending him to Marlborough-street. But with any other sort of person, -there is nothing to be done but fighting when he asks you, for a man -of courage and a gentleman."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I differ with you, Lieberg," said Morley. "I can easily conceive, that -the man who upon principle refuses to fight a person to whom he gave -no reasonable cause for offence, may be both a man of courage and a -gentleman; but the man who chooses to give rein to his tongue against -another man, and then refuses to fight him, can be nothing but a -coward; and, therefore, though this Mr. Neville be a scamp, I will not -baulk him of his humour."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You will sadly disappoint him," answered Lieberg; "or, depend upon -it, he calculates upon your dislike to meet such a man as he is, and -hopes to make something of it, either as a salve for a sore -reputation, or a plaster for a broken purse. But come, Ernstein, pray -explain to me, if there be no secret in it, how you were brought in -contact with this very reputable personage. You really must have been -making your way in the world."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein found more difficulty in replying to Lieberg's -question than he anticipated. Between one-and-twenty, and seven or -eight-and-twenty, there is an extraordinary gap, a vaster space, at -least in general, than is to be found betwixt any other two periods of -life, with a similar interval of years. That gap is filled by the -curious thing called experience--a sort of vapour, through which we -see every object under a totally different aspect on the one side of -the space and the other--a smoke, raised from the burning of a great -bonfire, formed partly of certain weeds called hopes, enthusiasms, -confidences, expectations, and partly of certain withered sticks, -round which these weeds were accustomed to cling not ungracefully ---called illusions. To the eyes on the one side of this gap--I mean the -youthful one--a person standing on the other side seems so far off, -that it is scarcely possible for them to reach the hand unto them; and -such was the case with Morley Ernstein and Lieberg. That gap, and -perhaps more, was between them, and Morley was afraid that Lieberg -could not or would not understand him: or, to resume the figure -which I have twisted this way and that--somewhat too often, -perhaps--already, he was afraid of giving up to him any of those -flowering weeds whereof I have spoken--those enthusiasms, hopes, and -confidences--lest he should cast them down and burn them in the -bonfire of experience.</p> - -<p class="normal">That part of the affair which related to Helen Barham he did not like -to mention to one whose views were formed in a different school from -his own. He knew not what might be Lieberg's comments, what his -inferences, what he might say, what he might suspect; and there is -nothing that a young and high mind shrinks so timidly from as -suspicion; it is the cowardice of a generous heart. As the matter was -to be told, however, for he could not very well avoid it, he spoke -with his wonted candour of the whole affair, related the manner in -which the situation of Helen Barham and her brother had first been -brought to his knowledge, his interview with her, and the subsequent -conversation which he had had with good Mr. Higgins. But the demeanour -of Lieberg was very different from that which he had expected. Not a -smile appeared upon his lip which could have alarmed a heart the most -sensible to ridicule; not a word passed from his tongue which could -shock one feeling in Morley's breast. He listened in perfect silence, -with his eyes bent gravely on the ground, and remained without -answering for some moments after the other had done speaking.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is a curious and interesting history," he said, at length; "and -has some of the strangest points in it that I know of. Many men in -London, who practically know as much of its ways as I do, but who -perhaps have not speculated upon them quite so philosophically as I -have, at least, tried to do, would conclude that a story thus told to -a young and inexperienced man of fortune, by a mere 'fence,' as they -call such fellows as Higgins, must be a trumped-up tale for the -purpose of cheating; the woman a loose woman, the boy a swindler, and -the man Neville merely brought in to give greater effect to the scene. -But I know better than this, Morley, and can very well conceive the -whole story to be true. Those who see a great deal of London will -find, if they do but take the trouble to investigate the matter -impartially, that even in the innermost recesses of vice and iniquity, -mingling with all that is wicked and bad in the very hearts of men -given up to various sorts of crime, there are peculiar virtues, good -qualities, bursts of feeling, touches of generosity, and even of -truth, which lie, like the jewels of Golconda, diamonds amongst mud, -or grow, like some of our most beautiful plants, from a soil formed of -filth and corruption. Do not misunderstand me: I do not mean to make -heroes of pickpockets and swindlers, forgers and housebreakers; but I -mean to say, that in the very blackest of them there is some good -point, some virtues carried to a high pitch--some which, perhaps I -might say, are almost peculiar to the hearts of vice. Many a man who -risks his life daily to take the money of another will give his own as -freely as water to one of his fellows in distress. The tenderness, I -have heard, with which some of the most abandoned women in Europe will -nurse a sick friend, is quite extraordinary; and a strong and active -feeling for sorrow and distress of every kind, is, I know, very much -more common amongst ruffians than amongst the pampered men of -pleasure. I can thus very well conceive that this good man, Higgins, -might be touched by compassion for the situation of this poor girl, -and lay out the plan that he says he has done, thinking it the very -best thing for her and for you too, in which, perhaps, he is right."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg's last words were spoken calmly, deliberately, and -thoughtfully; and not the most learned argumentations in favour of -licentiousness would have been calculated to produce such a -demoralizing effect as the deliberate matter-of-course manner in which -he gave them utterance. It at once, in the very fewest possible words, -and with the least possible shock, placed before the mind of Morley -Ernstein the idea of seducing Helen Barham, and keeping her as a -mistress, in the light of something not at all evil, and perhaps -right; a thing to be considered, simply in regard to its convenience -and expediency, without the slightest reference in the world to the -morality or immorality of the transaction. Morley did not reply, but -remained with his eyes thoughtfully fixed upon the floor, meditating -over what he had just heard, and asking himself, it must be confessed, -whether there is really an absolute right and wrong in such matters, -or not. It is the most dangerous question that youth can ask itself, -not because it is difficult to answer--not because there should be any -doubt or hesitation on the subject. It is because passion not only -raises the voice against reason, but is sure to reiterate the same -demand a thousand times in every life, and often--too often, waits for -no reply.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You must see your way in the business clearly, Ernstein," continued -his friend, "and make very sure that you are not deceived in the -girl's character; but I am inclined to think with you, that she is -what she appears. However, one or two interviews will easily enable -you to ascertain the fact. Art never yet looked so like nature to -deceive an eye sharpened by doubt and in a reasonable head."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I shall most likely never see her again," replied Morley, "and -therefore shall have small opportunity of judging."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!--and why not?" demanded Lieberg.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Simply because I think it dangerous," replied Morley. "She is very -beautiful, very graceful, very charming. With such a brother it would -be quite beyond my most romantic ideas to make her my wife; and as to -the other sort of connexion which you speak of, I can conceive a man -being betrayed into it by accident, or rather by a combination of -unfortunate circumstances, but could never dream, for my own part at -least, of sitting down deliberately to plan such a thing. It does not -enter into my scheme of life, Lieberg."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg laughed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know that I am not without strong passions," continued Morley, "as -well as you do. When I love, it will be vehemently, ardently; and -whatever may be her fortune or station, I will make that woman my wife -if she will become so. It is for this very reason that I do not choose -to run the risk of falling in love with any one that I would not -choose to marry. I shall therefore take care not to visit such -dangerous precincts again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, if you don't, Ernstein," said Lieberg, "I think I shall." -Morley was mortified. "Perhaps, Lieberg," he replied, "if you do go, -you may not find the opportunity that you expect."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay," answered Lieberg, laughing again; "you have no right to -excite one's compassion for this fair orphan, and then, with a -resolution to abandon her yourself, prevent any other generous man -from showing her his sympathy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You mistake me," replied Morley, gravely. "I do not intend to abandon -her myself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, you said you never intended to see her again!" exclaimed -Lieberg, with surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did," replied Morley; "but I intend also, Lieberg, the moment I -quit your house to go to that of my worthy friend, Mr. Hamilton, to -tell him this young lady's story; to beg him, with that prompt -benevolence for which he is famous, to investigate the whole -circumstances, and on my part to do whatever may be necessary to -enable Miss Barham to extricate herself from the situation in which -she is placed. I feel myself lucky in knowing such a man; his years -and character enable him to do what I could not do, and I can trust at -once to his wisdom and to his zealous benevolence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are quite right, Morley," answered Lieberg. "You are acting -generously and well--not perhaps so well for the girl's happiness as -if you had followed the other plan--but at all events, using -self-denial that will do you good, and neither doing yourself nor -making her do anything that is irretrievable. Heaven forbid that I -should interfere for a moment to spoil such a scheme! Every man in -life must calculate which he thinks will procure him the greatest sum -of happiness, keen joys or calm pleasures. One man will argue that the -joys--which undoubtedly are the brighter of the two commodities--are -only followed by those counterbalancing griefs which moralists tell us -of, in consequence of man's subserviency to various foolish prejudices -and unjust regulations in his artificial state of being. Others again -may contend that calm pleasures, though not so brilliant, are more -durable; that they are extended over a greater space; that if a man -obtains many joys and shakes off many griefs by throwing from him the -prejudices of society, on the other hand, the very struggle with those -prejudices is in itself an annoyance equal to the endurance of them -all. I have never calculated the matter very nicely myself, but I -recollect once going to see a fair cousin of mine who, when I went in, -was in the act of giving two of her sons some jelly, or jam, or -something of that kind. The one boy spread it thinly over a large -piece of bread and butter; the other ate it plain all at once; my -cousin, who was a very wise girl as well as a pretty one, let each do -as he liked; and I, who stood by and watched, thought that it was a -good picture and a good lesson of life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You mean," said Morley, "that the one boy was the image of the man -who chooses the calmer pleasures spread over the greater space; the -other, the representation of him who gives himself up to the brighter, -but the briefer joys of life?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"And my cousins's conduct," replied Lieberg, "gave me the lesson of -letting every man do as he likes, and eat his bread and butter as he -pleases. Thus, my dear Morley, I say to you; make up your mind upon -the matter, and do as you think fit, though from all I have seen of -you, I should suspect that there never was a man in this world more -inclined by nature to eat his jam plain."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley laughed, and Lieberg added, "At all events, I will not meddle -with your plans. I would not for the world, now I hear that you are -really going to do something to assist the poor girl; my own views -were very indefinite when I spoke of seeing her myself. My general -purpose was merely to free her from her present situation, in whatever -way seemed to me best suited to her own inclinations. However, I leave -the matter in your hands; and now to return to this business of -Neville and Stallfed. When the lesser of the two scoundrels comes to -me, I suppose I am to say that you refuse all apology."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Except such as can be conveyed by a horsewhip," replied Morley.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay," said Lieberg, "we will not deal in such figures of speech. -I am to name a place and a time of course?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The earliest possible," answered Morley. "I do not like such things -hanging over me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"To-morrow morning then," said Lieberg. "Primrose-hill, half past -five, a pair of my friend Joe's best, with all the improvements, and -we will soon settle Mr. Neville."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"Is Mr. Hamilton gone into the city yet?" demanded Ernstein, -as the -door was opened to him by a servant who knew him well.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, Sir Morley," replied the man, with a look which well might be the -harbinger of bad tidings. "Have you not heard, then, that my master -was taken very ill in the middle of the night, and we were obliged to -send for Doctor Warren?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, indeed," answered Morley; "and I am extremely sorry to hear it. -What is the matter, pray?"</p> - -<p class="normal">There has not been for many years a servant in England who rightly -knew what ailed his master or mistress; whether from a general -indifference to sickness and discomfort in others, or from that want -of sympathy between the two classes, which, under the fostering care -of what we call political institutions, is daily growing up amongst -us, I cannot tell. In former times, the good old blue-bottle--the -faithful serving man, in country or in town, who--very often born on -the estates of the master whom he served--never changed his place -during the course of a long life, but went on respected, from one -station in the household to another, till very likely, loaded with -years, he died in the arms of the grandson of him whom he first -served--he had a personal interest in each sensation of his master, -and watched the looks and words of the physician, to catch his augury -of good or evil. Now, however, when every kitchen in the land is more -or less a debating society, all such individual interests are merged -into considerations of the public weal; and the cosmopolite lackey -changes his place every two years to see the world, with a trembling -apprehension lest the progress of time should produce such a foolish -feeling as attachment towards a master.</p> - -<p class="normal">The servant of Mr. Hamilton, though a very respectable man, and a good -servant, as the world of London goes--that is to say, some four or -five shades better than an American help--had not the slightest idea -of what was the matter with his master, having only the disagreeable -impression on his mind that he, amongst other servants, had been -called up in the night, and had lost some four or five hours of rest.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is Mrs. Hamilton visible?" demanded Morley, finding that no further -information was to be obtained from the man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I dare say she is to you, sir," replied the servant; "though she bade -me not admit any one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Send up, and ask," said Morley; and the butler at the same moment -appearing, declared that, of course, his mistress would see Sir Morley -Ernstein.</p> - -<p class="normal">That young gentleman was accordingly shewn into the drawing-room, and -Mrs. Hamilton soon after joining him there, gave him the unpleasant -tidings that his worthy guardian had been attacked by inflammation of -the lungs during the preceding night, and was in a state of imminent -danger. Morley was seriously grieved; for, having long been deprived -of his own father, he looked upon that gentleman in the light of a -parent. He felt also that his loss at the present moment might be far -more disastrous to him than the death of his own father had proved -many years before. Perfect quiet and tranquillity were, of course, -necessary to the invalid, and Morley did not press to see him, though -he felt an eager wish to do so; but turned his steps back towards -Berkeley-square, meditating and sad, with a shadow cast across the -bright thoughts of youth, like that flung upon the gay spring world by -the passing cloud of an April sky.</p> - -<p class="normal">On entering his own apartments in the hotel, a waiter followed him, -saying, with that sharp, quick tone peculiar to waiters, who always -speak as if there was, not a drawn sword, but a ringing bell hanging -over their heads--"Beg pardon, sir--forgot to tell you a young -gentleman called upon you last night, named Barham--eight o'clock. -Your servant out also--beg pardon, sir note came this morning--somehow -left down stairs till you were gone."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley took the note; it was small, neat, well folded, addressed, in a -fine sort of a gossamer hand--"An invitation to dinner," he thought; -but when he opened it, the length at once shewed him he was mistaken.</p> - -<p class="normal">"How to excuse myself to you, sir, I know not," it ran; "how even to -exculpate myself in my own eyes, for venturing to address a gentleman -almost a stranger to me, with the request that I am about to make. The -only palliation for such conduct is, that in the short moment during -which I saw you, you shewed yourself generous and considerate, and -that you yourself expressed an interest, which could but spring from -noble benevolence, in the wretched boy who has ruined himself, and is -now striving to drag his sister down with him. After you were gone, -and the base man who has helped to destroy him had taken his -departure, I was made acquainted with the terrible secret of his -situation. It is so awful, it is so agonizing to me, that I have -remained all day in a state almost approaching madness, not knowing -how to act, torn by contending feelings, with no one to advise me, and -with no means of deliverance, abhorring my brother's conduct and -views, abhorring the base man that has us in his power, and yet bound, -by natural feeling and long affection, to save, at any risk and at any -sacrifice, the erring being who is still my brother, but seeing no way -of so doing without becoming the victim myself. You said, sir, that -you wished to save him, but, alas! he will not let you with his own -good will. He will seek to make you a prey--to extract money from you; -but he will not tell you the secret which places him in the power of -that horrible man. I am resolved to do so, if I can see you again; and -yet I fear, even by making the request that you would come to me, to -encounter, as perhaps I may deserve, your contempt at the same time as -your pity. Whether such be the case or not, I shall always remember, -with deep thankfulness, your past conduct, and ever remain your -unhappy but grateful servant,</p> - -<p style="text-indent:50%">"<span class="sc">Helen Barham.</span>"</p> -<br> - -<p class="normal">To fly to her at once, to give her every assistance and consolation in -his power, to treat her tenderly, kindly, generously, was the first -impulse of Morley Ernstein, and he obeyed it. He gave one casual -thought as to how he could act most prudently; but Mr. Hamilton's -illness had put all his wisely-constructed schemes to flight. He had -no one to trust to take counsel with, and though, to say truth, he -doubted himself where matters of passion were concerned, but one -course presented itself to his mind at the moment; and without waiting -for aught else than to put on his hat again, he was in the street the -minute after he had read Helen Barham's letter.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was some time ere he reached her dwelling, and he thus might have -had plenty of space for forethought and deliberation; but men of a -vehement temperament like himself, when approaching any particular -object, occupy the time, by corporeal efforts to get forward, which -they might employ in thoughts that would much more facilitate their -after progress. Morley was upon foot, and he strode on so rapidly, as -nearly to overturn half a dozen people in his way--sometimes having to -stop to apologize for his rudeness, sometimes half inclined to pause, -and punish some of those who made impertinent observations on his -haste--while all the cool considerations of right and propriety, with -which, during the last week, he had striven to bind himself down, were -now totally forgotten in the sole object of aiding the fair girl who -was thus cast upon him for assistance.</p> - -<p class="normal">If he was eager in the business at the first reading of the letter, he -had worked himself into more eagerness before he reached the door, and -it was only after the servant had said that her mistress was at home, -and his step was upon the stairs, that he began to think of calming -even his demeanour. He had but little opportunity, however, of doing -on those twelve or fifteen feet of stairs, what he had neglected to do -during a walk of a mile and a half. He did not give himself more time -than was necessary either, for the impetus still carried him on, and -he was treading on the maid's heels when she announced him.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen Barham had evidently heard his knock, and knew it, for she was -standing on the other side of the table watching the opening door, -blushing up to the eyes, and looking far more beautiful with nothing -round her face but her own rich black hair, than she had done in her -walking-dress. She moved not--she spoke not, but remained with her -eyes fixed upon him, and the hand that rested on the table trembling -with emotion. Morley easily understood that she could not welcome -him, and advancing at once towards her, he took her hand in his, -saying--"Miss Barham, I fear you have thought me very negligent for -not coming earlier, but the people of the hotel stupidly neglected to -give me your note till after my return from calling upon two friends."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no!" she said, in a trembling and agitated voice; "you are only -too kind to come at all. It is better, too, that you did not come -earlier, for that wretched boy has only just gone out, and I believe -he would kill me if he knew that I betrayed his secret to any one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He need not fear your telling it to me," replied Morley; "for, depend -upon it, I will only use it for his own advantage. Let me know, then, -my dear Miss Barham, how I can serve you. Tell me what I can do to -deliver you from the terrible situation I saw you placed in -yesterday."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will, in a moment," she replied; "but I must first recall my -thoughts. The very fact of your coming, Sir Morley Ernstein, may well -agitate me very much. Since I wrote to you I have scarcely known -whether to regret or to be glad that I did so--whether to be sorry or -rejoice, that I had not, in my despair, abandoned myself and my -unhappy brother to our fate."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay," said Morley, in a soothing tone--"view it in a different -light, Miss Barham! Say simply that you saw I was interested in you, -that I was inclined to deal differently with you and yours from most -other men; that you trusted in my honour and my good feeling, and that -you were not deceived."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know you are generously inclined," she said--"I am sure you are; -but yet I have been thinking, since I wrote, you must despise me for -the rashness and the boldness of what I have done; or, at least, that -you must fancy it strange I should have no friends, no connexions here -to whom I can apply even for advice. Indeed--indeed, it is not my -fault! For the nine months before my poor father's death, he was a -continual sufferer; we came to London for medical advice, from a -distant part of the country, and knowing nobody here, of course made -no acquaintances. After his death, I got two pupils for singing, and -one to whom I taught drawing. That poor child is dead, and the other -two have left London: My brother, alas! has made acquaintances enough, -but I have made none."</p> - -<p class="normal">She spoke in a tone of deep sadness, and her eyes rested fixed upon -the ground, but without tears. Morley was deeply touched, and soothed -her with every assurance of sympathy. He took her hand in his, as he -sat beside her; he besought her to trust in him fully and entirely, -promising, with all his own impetuosity, but in sincerity and truth, -to do all for her that man could do for a sister.</p> - -<p class="normal">"If it be possible, dear Miss Barham," he said, "I will save your -brother; but at all events, it is possible to save you from the -infamous person into whose hands he would cast you. That, at least, -you must allow me to do. But now, tell me at once your brother's -situation, and let us consider together what can best be done to -disentangle him, which will apparently be the best means of serving -you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, that I will!" she exclaimed, gently withdrawing her hand from -his, in which he had detained it perhaps an instant longer than he -himself thought right; and she then proceeded to explain to him more -fully what had taken place after he left her the day before. It was a -terribly difficult task for her. She had to allude to, if not to speak -of, so much that was wounding to all her feelings; she had to shew to -a young, handsome, and distinguished man, that, unless means could be -found for delivering her brother from the power of the low-born -swindler whom he had seen there the day before, she must either -abandon herself to that base man, or see her brother perish by an -ignominious death. She had deliberately to poise and dwell upon the -idea of becoming that man's mistress, or of destroying her own -brother, and that to the ears of one of another sex, and a higher -station than herself; and yet she did it well, at least as far as it -was possible so to do. She often turned, and paused, and hesitated, -and the tears came up in her eyes, and her voice frequently refused to -obey her will, and she told the whole in half sentences, leaving -imagination to fill up that which she dared not speak.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus did Morley Ernstein pass the most dangerous hour that he had ever -yet been subjected to in life. The poor girl's secret, however, was -told at length, and he found that her brother had committed a forgery -to the amount of five hundred pounds; that the note which he had -signed with a name not his own, was to pass through the hands of the -man Neville, before it was presented for payment, and that William -Barham himself did not know where it was, who possessed it, or any -means that could be employed to stop it, till it reached the fiend to -whom he had sold himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">By the time that Helen Barham had done, Morley Ernstein was nearly as -much agitated as herself, and the sympathies that were established -between those two, as they sat there together--the deep, the strong, -the thrilling sympathies, the feelings speaking from heart to heart, -and answering each other; the admiration, the tenderness, the -compassion, on one side--the admiration, the anguish, the gratitude, -on the other, were as perilous a host as ever forced their way into -the bosom of man and woman. The interest that Morley took in her, the -anxiety that he felt to serve her; the apprehension for herself and -for her brother, which her history excited, were all open to the eyes -of Helen Barham, and were all in return powerful upon her spirit. At -that moment, when, trembling, agitated, tearful, breathless, she -concluded the sad tale with that one terrible truth, and when he, -listening with quivering lips and eyes straining upon her bright face, -heard the dark conclusion of the whole, which seemed to leave no -course for him, no hope for her, but to snatch her at once from her -unworthy brother, one rash impulse, two rash words, "Be mine!" would -have sealed the fates of both for ever. Had he uttered them, she could -but have cast herself upon his breast, or died.</p> - -<p class="normal">Oh, it is sad to feel that there is but one thing on earth to which we -can cling, and yet not dare to cling to it! Oh, it is sad to feel -within ourselves the power to cherish and to comfort, and yet not dare -to use it! Those words, "Be mine," presented themselves to Morley's -mind, rose up in his heart, trembled upon his lips; but as the -destinies of men and states have ever depended upon accident, one -instant's pause saved him and Helen Barham; whether permanently, or -only for the time, those who read will learn. "Shall I say it?" he -asked himself; and while his heart beat like an imprisoned eagle -against the bars of its cage, his eyes turned towards the table and -rested there for a moment. There was a book upon it, which she had -evidently been reading before he came in, open, and turned upon its -face. There was a word stamped upon the back, and Morley's glance -passed over it--it was, Prayer!</p> - -<p class="normal">In a moment lightning-like thought had passed round the whole range of -the mental horizon.</p> - -<p class="normal">"She has been praying," he thought--"praying to that God, who made her -beautiful, and innocent, and bright--praying for help against the -infernal powers of wickedness and evil, that seem to surround her; and -shall I, the only help that he has sent her, shall I sully her -brightness, destroy her innocence, and blister that fair brow with the -name of harlot? God forbid!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The ethereal spirit within him was triumphant in a moment, the hour of -the animal spirit was over.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Prayer!" he said, aloud--"prayer!" and rising from his seat, he took -her hand tenderly and respectfully, and pressed it to his lips. "Here, -Miss Barham," he said, laying his hand upon the book, "is the true -means of comfort and consolation. He only to whom the words in this -book are addressed, can certainly give you deliverance. I, however, as -an instrument in his hands, will do my very best to help you; and -whatever my fortune or my influence can effect, shall not be wanting, -and what cannot fortune and influence do in this or any other land!"</p> - -<p class="normal">He paused, and cast his eyes thoughtfully upon the ground; and she -answered simply, as if she had been speaking her thoughts to an old -and dear friend--"I was praying before you came in; and though my mind -was somewhat confused, I felt comforted and relieved. I felt as if my -heart told me, that God would send somebody to help me--I think he -sent you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"May it prove so, dear lady," said Morley; "I trust it will prove so. -You have put your confidence in one, who, though, in some respects, a -strange, wayward young man, will try what he can do to merit it. First -let me tell you, however," he continued, seeing a slight blush come up -in Helen Barham's cheek, at the thought of having put her trust in <i>a -strange, wayward young man</i>--"let me tell you what I have done in this -business since I saw you yesterday, for you have not been absent from -my thoughts. In the first place, the person who brought me the -ear-rings saw me again last night, and gave me an intimation that this -man Neville must have some extraordinary hold upon your brother, -probably by a fault or crime which he has seduced him to commit. He -also explained to me partially the conduct and views of your brother -towards yourself. For the purpose of aiding you as far as possible, I -offered him a sum of money if he would ascertain what was the nature -of this man's power over your brother, and he promised me to obtain -the information quickly. Considering the matter further, however, I -thought that it might be necessary to remove you at once from the -influence of one who, however near akin, is most dangerous to you, and -to place you under the care of some one who would protect you against -Neville and your brother, and at the same time, guard you against all -the evils of straitened circumstances."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen Barham cast down her look upon the ground, and the red blood -crept up into her forehead; she then turned her eyes rapidly to the -book of Prayer, and raised them to Morley's countenance with an -inquiring glance. He understood it all as well as if she had spoken a -volume.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, my dear Miss Barham," he said; "do not misunderstand me; though -passion may often lead me to do what is wrong, I am not the cool, -deliberate villain to lay out a regular scheme for the ruin of any -one. Your youth, your beauty, your unfriended situation altogether," -he continued, while the blush grew deeper and deeper on her cheek, -"all made me think that it would be better some man of advanced years -and high reputation--some man whose very character would be the -noblest shield for yours, should act in this business rather than -myself; and one of my visits this morning, ere I received your note, -was to the Honourable Mr. Hamilton, the great banker, who was my -guardian in times past, and has ever acted as a second father to me. I -intended to tell him the whole case, and to beg him to do what I could -not, or ought not to do--to remove you from this house altogether, and -to use every nerve to deliver your brother, but to put you quite out -of his power, both in respect of pecuniary affairs and moral -influence. Unfortunately, I found Mr. Hamilton had been seized only -last night with a dangerous disease. Mrs. Hamilton, though an -excellent person, is very different in heart and mind from her -husband; thus the whole scheme is deranged for the present. We must -therefore do the best that we can, as no time is to be lost, however -painful it may be to you to depend solely upon the assistance and -efforts of a young man like myself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no!" she cried, interrupting him eagerly, and laying her hand -upon his arm, while she looked up in his face with a bright smile of -confidence, that repaid him well for all that he had said and done. -"Oh, no!" she cried; "it is not painful to me. I could trust anything -to you, after your conduct to-day--my life, my honour, anything! Oh, -no! it is not painful to me;" and bending down her face upon her two -hands, she wept for a minute, with one of those bursts of emotion in -which joy and sorrow are strangely, but perhaps we may say sweetly, -blended together. Morley soothed her, but she wiped away the tears in -a few moments, and said--"Do not mind, it is only agitation, not -grief. What were you going to say?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Merely this," replied Morley; "we have but one course to pursue, my -dear Miss Barham, for the present. It is this--to discover, if -possible, who is the person whose name your brother has thus forged. -You must try to wring it from him, and, that being once obtained, I -will endeavour, to the utmost of my power, and by all the means at my -command, to make the person, whoever it is, abandon the thought of -proceeding against him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But whoever it is will never consent to save a criminal by paying so -large a sum," said Helen Barham.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will do that," replied Morley; and before he could prevent her, she -caught his hand, and pressed her lips on it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"God bless you!" she cried, "and return it to you a thousandfold, in -treasures uncountable!--But, alas! I fear," she continued, after a -thoughtful pause, "I shall never induce William to give me the name."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Try, at all events," replied Morley. "I will endeavour, through the -man who seems his confidant. If we fail by all other means, we must -come openly to himself, show him his danger, prove to him that, as -your resolution is taken, nothing can save him but confession, and -offer to do everything for him if he will but be candid. But, indeed, -my dear Miss Barham, before that time, you ought to be removed from -him entirely, and put in safety and at ease. You say you have no -friends in London; have you any in the country, with whom you could -be?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But few," she replied, with a sigh. "Who loves to be burdened with -the unfortunate? My father's parish was extensive, but poor; -containing no gentry of any kind. There were several large and -respectable farmers in it, and their wives were, in many cases, -excellent women; some of them loved me well enough, I believe; but -I could hardly ask any of them to receive me. My father, too, was -retired in his habits, and made few acquaintances. There was the wife -of a neighbouring clergyman, indeed, who was almost the only person -near of the same station as ourselves; he is dead, but she lives in -the village still, and, perhaps, might be willing to have me with her; -but I could do nothing there to earn my own livelihood, and I would -not be a burden to her, or to any one. Besides, I wrote to her a week -or two ago, and have not heard from her since."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your stay need only be for a few weeks," replied Morley. "Ere long, I -trust, Mr. Hamilton will be quite well; I will place your affairs in -his hands, Miss Barham, and then the matter will soon be settled. It -is only for the present that I do not know what to do for you. I think -it absolutely necessary that, for a time, even on his own account, -your brother should be cut off from all communication with you, if he -will not give that information which is necessary to deliver him from -the hands of this man, Neville; and yet I myself can suggest no means, -no place of refuge, without danger or discredit to you; and, believe -me," he added, "I would not, for any consideration, bring upon you -either."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed, I do believe you!" she said, looking brightly up in his face; -"but, oh, sir! you seem to fix your whole hopes and expectation upon -Mr. Hamilton's recovery. Are you very sure that, if he were well -to-morrow, he would feel in this matter as you do--that he would judge -as you do? The old see things very differently from the young; the -heart gets cased by experience, if not hardened--and judgment is a -sterner person to deal with than feeling. I recollect one of my young -pupils wanted to persuade her mother to take me with them into the -country, because I looked sad at their going--as well I might. The -mother explained to her kindly, that it would never do; and I could -not but own that she was right; and yet I loved the daughter better -than the mother."</p> - -<p class="normal">She blushed immediately she had uttered those words, seeing that they -might have an application which she did not intend; but Morley was too -much a gentleman in heart, to give to any words a meaning different -from their real one; for there are some things which we understand -with our heart rather than with our head; and the meaning of those we -speak with is read by the spirit within ourselves, whatever may be the -mere sounds that address themselves to the ear. "What I mean," -continued Miss Barham, "is only, you must not be disappointed if you -find that Mr. Hamilton does not quite approve of all you have done, -and does not encourage, or assist you in doing all that you would, be -willing to do. Nor can any one say that he is wrong, for indeed, Sir -Morley Ernstein, I cannot but feel that you have already done more -than the calm judgment of any man of the world would approve."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley smiled. "You do not know Mr. Hamilton," he said; "he is as -young in heart as I am, though old in experience, and mature in -judgment. He is one of those few, Miss Barham, in whose enthusiasms I -can trust."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I doubt not," replied Miss Barham, "that he will take a kind interest -in me, on your account; that he will give me countenance and -protection, and ensure me the means of obtaining my own living -respectably. That is all I can desire, or expect. Most grateful to him -shall I be; but he can never do for me what you have done--raise me up -from the depth of sorrow and despair; comfort, support, protect -me--and all with honour and consideration, without one selfish or -ungenerous feeling,--without one evil thought mingling with your -benevolence to make me blush at the pity I excited, or the assistance -I received."</p> - -<p class="normal">It was Morley who blushed now, for he felt that though he had been -generous, he had not been altogether so generous as she supposed. He -felt that the passions which man encourages, and thinks no evil, -though subdued and kept down, might have had their share; and that -those feelings had been there which we will not believe have power to -sully till we place our own heart in contrast with something brighter -than itself. He coloured, as we have said, and was somewhat confused; -and, after promising to see her again on the following morning, and -beseeching her to use every means to wring the required information -from her brother, he left her, and returned thoughtfully to his -temporary home.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The table was covered with notes, but they were all -insignificant, and -Morley glanced over them with an eye which shewed how abstracted the -mind was, and how busy with other topics. He had thrown the last down, -and, with his hand still resting on the table, was gazing forth into -vacancy, when the door of the room opened, and Lieberg entered, with -his usual gentlemanly, but impressive manner.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, Morley," he said, "I have arranged it all for you, as was -proposed; these two men, Stallfed and Neville, had evidently heard all -about you, so far as your being wealthy, young, and unacquainted with -London; and they proposed to make a very pleasant speculation of -Neville's quarrel with you, and share some five hundred pounds between -them, or perhaps more; but the fact of your referring them to me, -instead of some of your college companions, as they expected, has -sadly disappointed them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, how could they calculate so wildly?" exclaimed Morley. "They -could never imagine that I was to be frightened into paying them money -for the privilege of not fighting?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no, no!" answered Lieberg; "that was not the way, at all. The -way it was to be arranged was this. Stallfed was to treat you in the -most gentlemanly manner, and no one can assume the tone of a high-bred -gentleman better than he can, when he likes it. The slightest apology -on your part was to be accepted; the Captain was to be smitten with -high admiration of your gentlemanly bearing, and bold demeanour. You -were to be invited to dinner, accommodated with champagne, and claret, -perhaps a little laudanum, or some other exhilarating fluid; cards and -dice were to be at your service--and the result was to be, the -enriching of themselves, and the pillaging of you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, how did you discover all this?" said Morley. "You certainly have -some extraordinary way of getting at people's secrets!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not at all," replied Lieberg--"not at all; it is pure intuition, -Ernstein. I know the whole thing, as well as if it had been done and I -had seen it. This man, Neville, I have long known, to the very -innermost corners of his dark mind. He won two hundred pounds of me at -Ascot, last year, with such barefaced cheatery, that he himself did -not expect me to pay the money--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But did you pay it?" exclaimed Ernstein, in some surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">"To be sure!" answered Lieberg. "Was it not well worth two hundred -pounds to keep one's name out of the newspaper, in connexion with that -of a blackleg? The very reputation of having overreached Colonel -Lieberg, was as much to him as winning another great battle would be -to the Duke of Wellington. The consequence was, that I pretended to be -looking another way and very busy about other business, paid the money -as fast as ever I could, for fear the whole affair should be exposed -by other people who had bets, and got off the course before the thing -was inquired into, leaving Hartley, of the Third, to horsewhip -Neville, and have his name in the 'Times,' coupled with an action of -battery. However, Ernstein, my simple reply to the worthy Captain, -was, that you were quite prepared to give Mr. Neville satisfaction; -that your place was Chalk Farm, your hour half-past five, and that we -set our watches by the Horse-Guards. If Neville comes to the ground, I -am very much mistaken; though Stallfed has one virtue--namely, -courage, and will bring him if possible. I will call for you at a -quarter after five to-morrow, and roll you up to the place. What do -you intend to do, if the fellow does come? I know you have odd notions -about these sort of things."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Shoot him!" replied Morley, vehemently. "Shoot him, as I would a mad -dog, and upon the same principle. I am not a man to miss what I fire -at, Lieberg, let it be living or dead; and if he calculates that I am -too humane to kill a viper like him, who is spreading poison and -destroying wherever he goes, he is very much mistaken."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think you are quite right, Ernstein," replied Lieberg. "For my own -part, I do not see any use of going out to fight a man, unless one -fires at him; it is very silly work to stand up to be shot at, and -then to waste a certain portion of good powder by firing in the air."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But there are some circumstances," said Morley, "when a man could not -fire at another--after having done him a great injury, for instance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know none," replied Lieberg, drily. "The man who calls out another -with any reason to believe that his adversary will not fire at him, -must be somewhat of a coward, and deserves to be shot for his pains. -Oh, no; child's play does not become reasonable men! Of course, I -never interfere with what a friend chooses to do in such cases. But I -think you are quite right; and in shooting Neville, you will be doing -a benefit to society; in reward for which, there ought to be a general -subscription, to present you with a very handsome pair of long -barrels. Mind you don't miss him--don't take him too fine!--I am going -to see that great picture of Rubens," he continued, in his usual easy -tone--"will you come? He is a magnificent painter--Rubens; and yet I -hate his pictures--it always seems to me as if he had skinned all his -men, and pinched all his women. Many of them are certainly very -natural, but it is a fat and undignified nature, too. Was there ever -anything like that St. Peter at Cologne? How the saint is roaring in -his unpleasant position! One seems to hear the very cries of agony -coming from his mouth; and yet it does not give us a very elevated -idea of the saint--to see him with his head downwards, bellowing, like -a cross man with the gout. Will you come?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley, however, declined; he had much to think of; and after Lieberg -had left him, he sat for a long time, revolving in his own mind the -situation of Helen Barham, but endeavouring in vain to arrange some -plan to place her in a less dangerous situation, till Mr. Hamilton was -well enough to give him counsel and assistance. He thought of her -much--he thought of her long--of her beauty, of her grace, of a -certain wild, sparkling manner, very different from the demeanour of -the young lady of the fashionable society, but very winning withal, -and very charming. Pity mingled with the train of reflection, and -softened admiration into tenderness; at the same time, there was a -sort of consciousness that she was entirely in his power--that she was -the creature of his will, not by any tie of mere circumstance, but by -the tie of gratitude and admiration. The better spirit, however, as we -have said, had gained the triumph; and though passion might urge, and -vanity prompt, it was all in vain--Morley did not yield for a moment, -but went on in high speculations on the destinies of human beings--of -the strange, and, apparently, wayward turns of fate--and of that far, -but sublime period when the ways of God will be justified, even to the -eyes of his creatures, when those who have suffered, and yet believe, -will rejoice, and those who have doubted and rebelled, will be covered -with confusion, on finding that all is bright, and good, and excellent -in the scheme of Divine wisdom.</p> - -<p class="normal">The spirit of the soul, as I have called it, exerted her sway during -that hour with calm, but mighty power. He dwelt upon many a curious -question with himself, both general and referring to the chief matter -of the day, and although the idea of marrying Helen Barham, and thus -freeing her from all her difficulties, never entered into his mind as -a thing that could take place, because he could not dream of allying -himself to one so base as her brother was proved to be, yet he asked -himself, had circumstances been different, would he have offered her -his hand? The answer was--"No--she was not the being he would have -chosen." And why was she not so? became the next question. Could any -one be more lovely?--could any style of beauty whatsoever be more fit -to excite ardent passion? Had he a doubt of her virtue? of her -simplicity, or truth? No, no, no! He could not tell why. He did not, -or he would not, investigate why he felt that, although, had he given -way to the temptation of circumstances, and the strong inclination of -his own heart, he might have made Helen Barham his mistress--he would -not choose her for his wife. Let not the reader suppose that it was -any evil in her character, anything that betrayed itself therein, and -which he felt, though he could not define it. No; she was all that she -seemed--pure, bright, generous-hearted, tender, devoted, not without -some faults, but those such as would little affect domestic peace. No! -it was nothing in her character, but it was something in his heart. -Reader! it was a memory!</p> - -<p class="normal">Great part of the men and women that are cast by the will of God into -the world, go about seeking a mere match of some kind. For most of -them, if not exactly anything, very nearly anything will do. It -matters not what is the first thing that links their affections to -another, whether beauty, or similar thoughts, or similar tastes, or -circumstances, or proprieties, or follies, or accidents; one or two -slight causes combining is sufficient to produce the effect; the words -are spoken, the altar gives its sanction, the ring encircles the -finger, the white ribbons and the orange blossom, the smiles and -gaiety, are worn and pass away, and the union settles down into -tranquil happiness, continual irritation, fierce strife, or speedy -rupture, as the temper, the passions, and the principles of the -parties impel or bind them. But there are others, however, of a finer -clay, and a higher mould, who form, at a very early period, a bright -ideal image of the being that must be their soul's companion, in which -every trait and feature is made harmonious, (to use boldly a mixed -figure,) to the pre-existing tones of their own heart; where each -taste, each feeling, each thought, finds a responsive note in the -spirit of another, and where the corporeal form represents but as a -symbol, that grand quintessence of all that we desire in the heart of -the being that we love. Seldom, very seldom does it happen in life, -that those who have thus, if I may so call it, preconceived their -love, ever find the being they have dreamt of. Seldom, if they do find -her, is it their fate to win her; but if they do, they may well die -the day after, for they have known enough of human joy to fill up a -whole existence. Seldom do they find her; they may find the face and -the form, but the one harmonious whole is rare--oh, how rare! The -mines of Golconda do not furnish fewer diamonds, the river of Ceylon -roll down fewer rubies, than the whole world produces, ay, in a -thousand years, of beings fully worthy to be loved.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein was one of those who had formed for himself the -picture of her who was to be his; and, as we have shewn the reader, he -had once seen the face of his visions. Whether the mind was there he -knew not, but that face was ever present to his memory, and it was not -that of Helen Barham. Bright, and beautiful, and sunny as she was, he -might feel passion towards her, pity, tenderness, esteem--but no, not -love! There was a something wanting still; I cannot well tell what, -and will not seek to do so, for love is like one of those fine -elixirs, which some skilful and life-restoring hands have formed, and -which we may analyze as we will, separating the parts with every -scientific aid, but still something escapes, which we cannot discover, -something which gives virtue and efficacy to the whole.</p> - -<p class="normal">The thoughts of Morley Ernstein strayed naturally and by imperceptible -steps from Helen Barham back to that fair young being whom he had seen -once, and only once in life. The idea brought back the thoughts and -feelings of the day when he had met her, so short a time before, and -yet seeming far, far away in the past; so many had been the fresh -incidents which had crowded into that brief period of his career. -There was a sweet and soothing pleasure in the very remembrance. There -always is, in the memory of first love; it is like the memory of our -early home. A first love is surely the early home of the heart. It -came upon him so pleasantly, with such tranquillizing influence, with -such balmy power, that he resolved, as soon as he could disentangle -himself from the affairs which now pressed upon him, he would return -to his own old hall; to his own park, and its shady trees; to the -sweet singing of the summer birds, the smoke of the peasant's cottage, -the village church, the cheerful upland, and all that made the bright -picture to memory of the native place he had left behind.</p> - -<p class="normal">Suddenly, however, the questions broke upon him--how should he return -to it? and should he ever be able to enjoy, as he had enjoyed it--to -taste the same pleasures with the same zest? Had he not passed by the -moment of such delights? Had he not known, and felt, and lived, beyond -the hour of such calm happiness? Then imagination went on to the work -laid out for the following day; to the act that he was about to -commit; to the bringing of blood upon his hand; to the slaying of a -fellow-creature; to the imprinting on the irrevocable roll of deeds -done, the dark word--"Death!"</p> - -<p class="normal">He started away from his own thoughts; his mind was made up and fixed; -his determination had been announced, and he resolved that he would -think upon the matter no more. He would amuse his thoughts; he would -mingle with the crowded world; he would go to the party to which he -was invited that night, and do the deed he had purposed to do, as a -mere matter of course; and yet there was one thing which he had to -consider, and which, till late on that day, he did not consider at -all--namely, that he might himself fall in the encounter. He did not -think it likely, but such an event might take place. Neville was a -coward, evidently well known to be so; but the most notorious cowards, -aided by accident, and the cat-in-a-corner courage of despair, have -been known to shoot men of duelling reputation. He might fall, then, -and at all events it was necessary to make some preparation for such a -result. He sat down accordingly, pen in hand, to draw up a little -memorandum of his last wishes; and although, as I have already said, -his property was originally very large, and had been increased greatly -by the care of Mr. Hamilton, his will was soon made, and compressed in -a few lines.</p> - -<p class="normal">He left his two former guardians his executors; explained very briefly -his knowledge of Helen Barham, her circumstances, and the bad conduct -of her brother. He besought Mr. Hamilton to act entirely as her -guardian, knowing that, with him, that would be only another name for -acting as her father, and he left her so large a portion of the sum -accumulated during his minority, as to place her in a state of -affluence for life, with one or two thoughtful provisions, to ensure -that it should never fall within the grasp of a sharper. His landed -property he suffered to take its legal course, which led it, in case -of his death, to a very distant branch of his family, none of whom he -had seen above two or three times in the course of his life, and whose -representatives had satisfied themselves, during his minority, by -inquiring tenderly, once or twice in the year, after his health, which -had always proved so vigorous as to exclude them from all reasonable -hope of entering into possession themselves.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was still a larger sum to be disposed of, and Morley thought -for a moment what he should do with it; for it sometimes so happens, -that when thousands are starving, and worse than starving, around, a -rich man, caught by the sudden arrest of death, looks about him -embarrassed for some object on which to bestow his wealth. There were -several things that Morley had proposed to do; institutions he had -dreamt of founding; good deeds of various kinds which he had thought -to perform; but, alas! of all the many things that are killed by -delay, none are so easily slaughtered as those same good deeds. Morley -found now that there was no time to make such arrangements as he had -proposed, with that precision and circumlocution which the law of -England requires, as if for the express purpose of embarrassing a -man's mind at a period when his mind is rarely very clear, and wasting -his time, when time is too seldom very abundant. He therefore -contented himself with leaving the great bulk of his funded property -to Mr. Hamilton, for the purpose of being distributed amongst such -persons as that gentleman should find most necessitous and deserving, -in the course of the next three years. From this, indeed, he reserved -a few small sums for annuities to his servants, and for remembrances -to one or two of his college friends. To Lieberg he left some fine -pictures; and an impulse that he could not resist, made him bequeath -some diamonds which had been his mother's, as a token of gratitude to -Juliet Carr.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mr. Hamilton will smile," he thought, "if he have occasion to open -this will, and may well smile, if he should ever know that Helen -Barham I have seen twice, Juliet Carr perhaps once--perhaps not at -all;" and leaning his head on his hand, he began again to think of the -scene which had taken place in the road under his own park wall, and -of the beautiful being he had there beheld, upon whom his imagination -had fixed a name which might very well belong to some one else.</p> - -<p class="normal">There are strange things told of presentiment; there are a thousand -recorded instances of men firmly and clearly anticipating the death -that awaited them, often when there was no reasonable cause for -expecting it. But we may go further still. Who is there that, without -any distinct motive that he can perceive, has not often found his -thoughts resting strongly upon some particular theme, very loosely -related, if at all, to the circumstances around him, and returning, -whether he would or not, to that one topic, his mind seemingly -impelled to its consideration by an irresistible power out of himself, -and then, ere many hours were over, has found the things connected -with that theme rise up around him as if by magic? Who is there that -has not had occasion to say to himself in life--"My thoughts were -prophetic?" Who is there that has not more than once in life almost -fancied himself endowed with the second sight?</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein dined, dressed himself, and went out to a party, which -had been announced to him, by the lady who gave the invitation, as a -small and an early one. Perhaps of all others this was the kind of -society that he would not have chosen on that occasion. He would -rather have been in the midst of a gay world of sights and sounds, -each appealing strongly to imagination for a moment, and changing -again ere the mind could get weary: But the lady who had asked him had -some claims upon him; she was an old friend of his mother's; had been -kind and affectionate to him in his youth; was of a very amiable -character, though somewhat eccentric in her enthusiasms and her -self-devotion; and thus, as he knew she counted much upon his presence -that night, he would rather have disappointed any person in London -than Lady Malcolm. Be accordingly proceeded to her house not very long -after the hour she had named; but there was already a number of people -in the rooms, almost all of them belonging to the best society in -London, but deviating from their usual late habits to please a person -universally respected and liked.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lady Malcolm herself, always lady-like, notwithstanding some touches -of eccentricity, was in the small outer room, receiving and talking to -a group of gentlemen who had entered not long before Morley himself. -She greeted her young friend gladly, and then added, with a marked -smile--"If you go on, Sir Morley, you will find an acquaintance in -those other rooms."</p> - -<p class="normal">As she said this, she turned to speak again with the other party, and -Morley advanced into a larger chamber beyond, where a number of -gentlemen and ladies were collected, talking of everything and nothing -upon the face of the earth. As the room, however, was not very large, -neither of the three being at all upon a grand scale, Morley's -entrance caused some little sensation, for, as we have before said, -his appearance was distinguished, his countenance handsome, the -expression not ordinary, and his whole carriage that of a very -high-bred gentleman. The first persons who saw him, asked others who -stood near, who he was, and it soon spread through the whole, that he -was the rich young Baronet who had lately come of age. Those who were -acquainted with him, approached eagerly to speak with him, and several -others asked to be introduced.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the demeanour of a man pre-occupied with any grave and powerful -feelings, there is generally a tone of cold firmness, which is -impressive to the indifferent and the light-hearted, and Morley, at -that moment, was too full of the thoughts of to-morrow to be at all -carried away by the light conversation of a party like that. Some -called him haughty; some thought him vain; some pronounced him cold; -some said he was purse-proud. One or two men of high rank judged more -favourably of him, and declared that his bearing was just what it -should be; but after suffering himself to be detained for a few -minutes, the young gentleman moved on, and entered the third chamber, -which concluded the little suite of Lady Malcolm's receiving rooms. He -was making his way towards a table covered with drawings, when a sight -presented itself, which caused him to stop short, and pause, as if -suddenly rooted to the ground. The sight, however, was certainly a -pleasant, one, for it was that of as beautiful a face as was ever -seen, but if it had been that of Venus herself, fresh risen from the -sparkling Mediterranean wave, it could not, independent of -association, have had the effect upon Morley Ernstein which was -produced by that fair countenance.</p> - -<p class="normal">There--there before him, in the rooms of Lady Malcolm, was the same -soft, yet dazzling face; the same deep blue eyes, with their dark -lashes; the same clear forehead and fair brow; the same short, -chiselled lip, with the rosy mouth half open, in the act of speaking; -the same beautiful form, every line of which was contour and symmetry, -the same bright being, in short, which he had seen once, and as he -believed only once, in life before, when they had stood together for a -moment, by her horse's side, in the mellow light of a spring morning. -She was conversing with a lady who sat on the sofa beside her, but her -eyes were full upon Morley Ernstein; and, on his part, after the first -sudden pause of surprise was over, with a look of bright satisfaction -that could not be mistaken, he crossed the room at once, and took her -hand in his, as if he had known her twenty years, forgetting -altogether, that at that moment he was not even sure of her name.</p> - -<p class="normal">She smiled upon him kindly, evidently recollecting him well, and not -displeased with the recollection. There was a faint blush, too, came -up in her face, not like the blush of agitation, indeed, but that sort -of sudden transient glow, which comes over a cheek unhackneyed to any -strong sensations, upon even a slight emotion. There are few people in -the world more to be pitied than women who have lost the power of -blushing. With them the bloom has gone off the fruit indeed. She -blushed slightly, as I have said, and Morley inquired after her -health, and spoke of the time when they had last met, and his eyes -sparkled, and his lip became full of expression, and there was -eagerness in his whole tone, so that those who had seen him in the -other room would hardly have known him now. So much can two steps do -to change the whole feelings of the human heart.</p> - -<p class="normal">Scarcely, however, had he uttered many sentences when the feeling that -he had never been introduced to the fair being to whom he was speaking -in so intimate a tone--that he had, in fact, according to the usages -of society, no right even to know her, first embarrassed, and then -made him smile at his embarrassment, and seeing a vacant seat beside -her on the sofa, he took possession of it at once, resolved to wait -till Lady Malcolm came into the room, in order that no idle form for -the future might stand in the way between them. They spoke of ordinary -subjects for a few minutes--that is to say, subjects which any one -might talk of to another, though in London society in general people -do not do so--of the beauty of the country where they had last met; of -the pleasures of the country in general; of the superiority of that -which, according to the old adage, God himself made, over that which -man made. The lady who sat beside them, either thought their comments -very tiresome, or perceived that one of the party might feel it as -pleasant if he were left alone with his neighbour, and, contrary to -the usual course of human benevolence, she rose, and went away to -speak to a dear friend in the doorway.</p> - -<p class="normal">If she supposed that the conversation of Morley Ernstein and his fair -companion would be more free after she was gone, she was very much -mistaken. For the first few minutes, they had both very nearly fallen -into absolute silence, though their thoughts were busy. As often -happens on such occasions, it was the lady who first spoke.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am happy," she said, "to see that you are so completely recovered."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then you are Juliet Carr," said Morley, abruptly; "I was sure it was -so, from the description of my good old servant Adam Gray."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" said the young lady, with the warm blood now rushing quick -into her glowing cheek--"indeed! The truth is," she added, a moment -after, "that in passing by the place where you were lying ill, I heard -of the accident that had occurred, and in going near your house, in -one of my walks round Yelverley, I thought it best to inform your -servants that such was the case, suspecting that they might not know -it, as, indeed, they did not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And most grateful am I, dear Miss Carr," replied Morley, "for your -taking the trouble of letting them know. However much interest you -might create in me on our first meeting, I could hardly hope that I -had excited any such kind feelings in you, when my rash folly, in -leaping my horse over the park palings, might have killed you, and -certainly did alarm you very much."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your kindness after it was done," replied Juliet Carr, in a calm -tone, "made ample compensation; but," she added, in a lower voice, and -with her eyes cast down upon the ground, "that was not the first time -that we ever met."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" exclaimed Morley, in his turn surprised, and under the first -impulse speaking out the plain truth, without any of the softenings of -conventional life--"I did not think it possible, that if I had once -seen you on the whole earth before, even for a single moment, I could -ever have forgotten you."</p> - -<p class="normal">His fair companion answered not for a moment, and he added -"Where--where was it, Miss Carr? I do not recollect any one even of -your name in our neighbourhood. Where was it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"In this very house--in this very room," replied Juliet Carr. "We have -played together many a time upon the carpet, and you used to tease me -sadly," she added, with a playful look, "when you were eight years -old, and I was seven."</p> - -<p class="normal">"God give me the opportunity of teasing you again!" exclaimed Morley, -with a bright laugh--her words illuminating, in a moment, the whole -dark void of the past, like a flash of lightning in a murky night; -"and is it possible that you were my little July, my little -summer-month, as I used to call you? It is the only name by which I -ever knew you; for, indeed, dear Juliet, I was not aware that your -name was Carr. Do you recollect"--he added--but ere he could conclude -his sentence, the memory of the light, boyish feelings of the past, -became mingled so strangely with the intense manly feelings of the -present, as to make him almost regret he had begun the question, and -caused his voice to tremble as he went on, feeling that he must -conclude--"Do you recollect how you promised to be my wife?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet Carr turned deadly pale, and Morley could scarcely hear her -voice, as she replied, "Oh yes, oh yes! I remember something of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">His heart sunk, for he was inexperienced in matters of love, and -thought that, in that paleness, and that low tone, he perceived a -thousand things which they did not imply in the least. Such feelings -as his, however, are seldom without hope, and he soon rallied again; -but he resolved, ere he said more upon subjects of so deep an -interest, to watch and see, to mark every word and every tone, to -gather by some means, in short, the certainty that there was no such -bar as another attachment between her heart and his. So far he -resolved wisely; but he went on to determine that he would guard his -own affections carefully, that he would take care not to fall in love -with Juliet Carr till he was certain there was no obstacle to her -loving him again. In this he resolved very foolishly, as every man -does who takes resolutions in regard to things that are past. Morley -Ernstein had no longer any power not to love Juliet Carr. He might -guard the posterns of the citadel as he would,--the garrison had -already surrendered, and the enemy had entered by the great gates.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley might have been somewhat puzzled to renew the conversation, -after the momentary pause for thought which succeeded the last word -spoken. It is a great art in that sort of communion which he was -holding with Juliet Carr, never to let any subject drop entirely -without leaving some sort of link in the chain open to hook it on to -another. Morley was relieved from his difficulty, however, though not -in the manner which he might have liked the best. The lady who had -been talking with his fair companion when he first saw her that -evening, returned, and spoke with her again for a few minutes. What -she said Morley did not hear, for he went on thinking upon the subject -which, for the time, was predominant in his own mind. After a moment -or two, however, he saw Miss Carr's eyes directed towards the man with -whom the other lady had been speaking in the doorway, and at the same -time a sort of shudder seemed to come over her, while she said, "Can -you really admire such conduct?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The lady made some reply, which Morley did not hear, laughed, with a -gay toss of her head, and went away again.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein was now better prepared to carry on the conversation, -for his mind had turned to the past, and to the childish days which he -had spent in that house with Juliet Carr. "Am I mistaken in thinking, -Miss Carr," he asked, "that you are a niece of Lady Malcolm's? It -seems to me, that I recollect having heard such was the case, long -ago."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh no," replied Juliet Carr; "our relationship is not so near. My -mother was Lady Malcolm's cousin; but you know how generous and -high-spirited she is; and since my mother's death she has always acted -towards me more as a mother than anything else--at least, when she has -been permitted to do so."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I really do not see, Miss Carr," replied Morley Ernstein, "the exact -connexion between Lady Malcolm's generosity and high spirit, and her -affection for you; I should think it very possible to love you dearly, -without any great liberality of feeling."</p> - -<p class="normal">He spoke with a smile, and evidently in a tone of assumed playfulness; -but Juliet Carr replied, eagerly--"Oh, indeed! in this case you are -mistaken; it needed great kindness and generosity for Lady Malcolm to -feel any affection for me at all, as my birth kept her from a -considerable property, which, at that time, I have heard, she was much -in need of."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then, I trust, you are with her now for a long time," said Morley -Ernstein.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have only leave of absence for three weeks," she answered; and the -moment after added, in a low tone, "Thank Heaven, he is gone!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley had remarked that, during the last five minutes, her eyes had -turned frequently towards the gentleman who stood in the doorway, and -who had now just moved away with a slight degree of lameness in his -walk. There was quite sufficient love in Morley's breast to make him -feel an eager--I might almost call it an apprehensive, interest in all -Juliet Carr's thoughts, and, with his usual impetuosity, he said at -once, "May I know who the gentleman is, Miss Carr, whose departure -seems to afford you so much relief?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I really do not know," replied Juliet, with a smile, which might, -perhaps, be at Morley's impetuous questioning, or perhaps, at her own -ignorance of the man's name, for whose absence she had thanked -Heaven--"I really do not know," she answered, and then stopped, gazing -in his face, with that smile, as if to puzzle him still further. -Morley looked down upon the ground, but would ask no further -questions; and seeing a sort of determination in his countenance not -to do so, Juliet Carr added, in a lower tone, and with a graver look, -"I can tell you what he his, though I cannot tell you who."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What, what?" asked Morley, eagerly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is a duellist!" replied Juliet Carr. "Lady Emily Greenfield came -up, just now, to tell me a good deal about him; she says that he -killed another man in a duel, a fortnight ago."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a look of abhorrence and pain in her beautiful face as she -spoke, which brought some strange sensations into Morley's heart, when -he thought of the part he was about to play the next morning; and he -replied, "Perhaps he could not help it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Could not help it!" exclaimed Juliet Carr, with a look of surprise, -and forgetting, in her eagerness, the lapse of thirteen or fourteen -years she added--"Could not help it! Oh, Morley!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley felt as if he could have cast himself at her feet, in gratitude -for that one word; but he governed his impetuous nature, and followed -out the subject on which they were speaking. "Perhaps," he said, in -explanation, "he was grossly insulted by this man whom he shot. -Perhaps his adversary called him out, and made him fight."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, do you mean to say," asked Juliet Carr, "that there are any -circumstances in which a man cannot help deliberately killing another? -I myself think, that no man ought to fight a duel at all; but even if -he be weak enough to risk his own life for a vain prejudice, he has no -right to take that of another. God will ask the blood of his brother -at his hand," she added, lifting her beautiful eyes as if towards the -heavens; "and though he may smother the voice of conscience, in this -world, he must not hope that he will escape punishment in another. Oh! -think what a horrible thing it is to take away that existence which we -can never restore; to cut off, in a moment, a fellow-being, from all -the warm and sweet relationships of life; to change the living being, -instinct with a bright spirit, into a dull mass of inanimate clay, -and, worse than all, to put the seal of fate upon the sins, and -follies, and crimes, of a fellow-being; to cut him off for ever from -repentance, and bring the day of judgment upon his head, without time -for thought, or preparation, or hope, or atonement! Oh, no, no! if -such a thing had happened to me, I would hide myself from all eyes in -the darkest corners of the earth. I would spend my whole life in -bitterness and tears. I should never know a moment's peace--I should -think I heard the voice of him whom I had murdered, crying for ever in -my ears, 'You have not only destroyed the body, but condemned the -soul!'"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley had been gazing thoughtfully on the ground, but he now replied, -"There may be some cases, Miss Carr, where we should be doing a -benefit to society, in firing at a man opposed to us in a duel. -Suppose that he were one of those criminals who are daily committing -crimes that the laws will not reach?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Leave him to God!" replied Juliet, eagerly. "Leave him to God! His -law will sooner or later reach all, and it is a law of mercy as well -as justice."</p> - -<p class="normal">They both paused; Juliet with a warm glow upon her cheek, from a -feeling that she had been speaking with some vehemence, and Morley -doing what so few people ever do in conversation, really weighing the -arguments that were addressed to him, and applying them to his own -heart.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But suppose," he said--"suppose a man so placed that his own life is -at stake. There are circumstances in which there is every probability -that a man must either take life or lose it. For instance, when your -adversary is known as an infallible shot, where you have but one -chance for your own existence, and where, judging yourself in the -right, you have every reason to defend your own life, even at the -sacrifice of that of an enemy whom you know to be in the wrong?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is a hard case," replied Juliet Carr, with her eyes cast down upon -the ground; "but I am really not fit to be a judge upon such matters, -and perhaps have said more than I ought upon the subject already."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay," said Morley; "I really wish to hear your opinion. Believe me, -it is valuable to me, for I think a woman often judges these sort of -things more sanely than a man."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, you shall have it!" replied Juliet Carr, "though it is little -worth having. You must recollect that I think no man has any right to -fight at all, if he be a Christian. He ought, therefore, never to be -there, and if he will go there, I cannot see why, to save his own -life, he should add a great crime to a great fault, and make murder -terminate strife. Perhaps this is speaking too harshly; but what I -mean to say is, that I should love, and respect, and admire the man -most who, if he have not resolution enough to refuse to fight, would -shew that his courage went to the high pitch of risking all, rather -than do that which he knew to be the highest pitch of evil. Were I a -man I would rather lose life than keep it under a continual sense of -remorse--nay, even as a weak woman, I say the same; and I am sure in -the choice my courage would not fail."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley gazed at her for a moment with tenderness and admiration; but -he then replied, as he saw Lady Malcolm approaching them, "Well, then, -I promise you, that if ever I should be called upon to fight, I will -recollect your lesson of to-night, and not fire at my adversary."</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet looked as if she would fain reply, but Lady Malcolm came up, -with a smile, saying, "So you have found each other out! She is -scarcely at all changed--is she, Morley?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"So little, at least in manner," replied Morley, "that every instant I -feel myself inclined to forget the years that have past, and to call -her Juliet."</p> - -<p class="normal">If ever lover made an artful speech in this world, it was that which -had just proceeded from the lips of Morley Ernstein; for it brought -about quietly, as he well knew it would, that which he did not dare to -ask openly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why should you call her anything else?" asked Lady Malcolm. "You were -like brother and sister in your childhood. Call her Juliet, to be -sure. I am certain she has no objection. Have you, my dear girl?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley felt very strongly that they were not brother and sister now, -and perhaps Juliet Carr did the same, for she blushed while she -replied, "None, assuredly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And will you call me Morley again?" demanded her lover--for so we may -now well name him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes," answered Juliet Carr, looking up with that candour of heart -which is far, far more attractive than the finest art that ever -coquette devised; "I shall find no difficulty in it, for old habits -come back with such force that I can scarcely call you anything else."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley felt that in the new game he was playing, he had won a point; -and, casting from him all thoughts of the following morning, he -lingered on at Lady Malcolm's house till he was the last guest -present. He then took leave, and quitted the house where he had spent -a night of joy, such as he had never known till then; but as he turned -from the door, and the memory of the dark business before him rushed -upon his mind, it seemed as if a cold wind blew upon him.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">In the evening and the morning, small objects cast long -shadows; but -in the mid-day, the meridian sun makes all bright. Not so exactly, -however, is it with the day of life, as any man must have felt who has -been called upon to repeat, at two distant times in his existence, the -same unpleasant act. Take fighting a duel for an instance: with what -different feelings the same man sets about the deed, at two or -three-and-twenty, and five or six-and-thirty. How the gay buoyancy of -youth carries us over the light ruffle of the sea at one period! how -little do we heed the menacing storm! how little do we care for the -momentary tempest! how confident are we of safety and success! But, at -the other period, however strong may be our resolution, however firm our -purpose, however, unshaken our nerve, we go to the task set before us -with a knowledge of every particle of the peril, with a clear notion -of all the consequences, with a calculation of each point of the -result. The grasp of a friend's hand comes with a consciousness that -it may be for the last time; the look we give to those we love has in -it the tenderness of a farewell, and at the same time, all the mighty -responsibility of taking the life of another is pressed upon -reflection by every sight of human existence around us, by all the -fresh joys and hopes that we see in the bosoms of our own fellow-men. -Morley Ernstein, however, was in the early day of life; fear was a -thing unknown to him, and even with awe he was not very familiar. -Thus, when Lieberg's cabriolet came to the door in Berkeley-square, he -sprang in with a light step; and, with as cheerful a voice as if he -had been going to a wedding, he gave his friend the "Good morning," -and asked if he were not a little late.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no!" answered Lieberg; "in very good time, and my chesnut here -will carry us up as if he were running for the Derby."</p> - -<p class="normal">Away they rolled at a rate which had something exhilarating in its -rapidity. London was soon left behind; its lengthy suburbs were -speedily crossed, and the singing of a lark in the early morning, told -that the horse's hoofs were treading the country. The spot appointed -was soon reached, the boy handed out the pistol case, and took the -horse, and Morley and his friend walked forward into the field, where -no one as yet had made his appearance. It was a beautiful summer -morning as ever was seen; the country, even in the neighbourhood of -London, looked lovely in the early light, and the world altogether -seemed too pleasant a place to quit willingly. But Morley Ernstein, -though his was the especial time of life when joys are fullest and -hopes brightest, and all the things that endear to us mortal existence -are in their most attractive aspect, never thought about quitting the -world at all. He found it difficult to impress upon his mind the idea -of danger; and though a momentary sensation of awe had come over him -during the preceding night, all such feeling had gone off, and he -looked about for his adversary, in the mere desire of getting a -disagreeable business over as soon as possible.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I would bet five to three that he does not come," said Lieberg; "and -really I think that if he do not, I shall go and horsewhip him myself, -for making me get out of my bed at half-past four."</p> - -<p class="normal">Scarcely had he spoken, however, when the roll of wheels was heard, -and a very handsome travelling chaise, with four post-horses, -appeared, and drew up at the gate leading into the field. The door -was opened, and forth came Mr. Neville, with his friend, Captain -Stallfed, whom Morley had seen once before, and a gentleman in black, -possessing extensive whiskers, not very well combed, long French-cut -hair, and a surgical appearance about the nose and eyes, which at once -bespoke his profession.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Upon my word," said Lieberg, "this looks like execution! Now, Morley, -what will you bet that all this is not part of a solemn farce, to -squeeze an apology out of you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It will not succeed," answered Morley, and he walked on with Lieberg, -to meet the advancing party.</p> - -<p class="normal">As they came near, the two seconds took a step forward, and Captain -Stallfed, as Lieberg had anticipated, began, after the ordinary -salutations, to work his way up to the demand of an apology.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My friend, Mr. Neville," he said, "has certainly been grossly -insulted by your friend, Sir Morley Ernstein. However, as Neville is -peculiarly situated in some respects, Colonel Lieberg, I have advised -him to content himself with an apology." He paused for a moment, as if -to see whether Lieberg would reply; but that gentleman was as silent -as the grave; and Captain Stallfed went on, with a slight degree of -embarrassment. "A-hem!" he said; "if, therefore, your friend thinks -fit to say that he is sorry for having used the threat of -horsewhipping my friend Neville, I have advised him to drop the -matter, and rest satisfied."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think you are labouring under a mistake, Captain Stallfed," said -Lieberg; "my friend Sir Morley Ernstein would have the greatest -pleasure in saying that he is sorry for having threatened to horsewhip -your friend Mr. Neville, if he were at all sorry; but, as he fully did -intend to horsewhip him, in case Mr. Neville did not find a gentleman -of honour and repute, such as Captain Stallfed, to bring the matter to -another issue for him, you will easily perceive that my friend can -offer no apology whatsoever."</p> - -<p class="normal">Stallfed looked a little disconcerted, and merely saying--"Very well, -sir--very well!" retired to confer with Neville again, whose eyes, -during the brief conversation between his friend and Lieberg, had been -round the field, and up the road, and over the hill, with a very -anxious and expectant expression. Lieberg marked all this with a -smile, saying to Morley--"He is like a cowardly felon at the -gallows-foot, asking to be allowed time for another prayer; but we -must interrupt his shrift, otherwise I should not wonder if we were -interrupted in our proceedings. Captain Stallfed," he said, advancing -again a step or two, "we wait your pleasure, and, as it seems to me -that your friend is very apprehensive lest we should be annoyed by the -Bow-street officers, we had better proceed as fast as possible."</p> - -<p class="normal">Captain Stallfed bowed, frowned at Neville, and saying, not too low -for the other party to hear--"Nonsense--nonsense, man!--the thing -must be;" he came forward to make the necessary preparations with -Lieberg.</p> - -<p class="normal">The spot was chosen, the ground measured, and each second threw down a -glove, for his friend's standing place, Lieberg calmly overruling a -manœuvre of Stallfed's, to place Morley in a line with a tree. In -the meanwhile, the young Baronet walked up and down, with his arms -folded on his chest, thinking the preparations somewhat long, while -Neville, with the surgeon at his elbow, stood at some distance, -listening to such consolations as the man of healing could give him, -and evidently under the influence of no very dignified trepidation. -Morley, who, from time to time, cast a glance that way, could not help -smiling at the bend of the knees, the rounding of the shoulders, and -the wandering eagerness of the eye. He thought every moment, indeed, -that his gallant antagonist would take to his heels and run, and -probably it was only the proximity of the surgeon that prevented such -a consummation. Everything being at length complete, however, Lieberg -placed his man, saying--"Now, don't miss him, Morley."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I don't intend to fire at him," replied Morley.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg looked at him with astonishment, but there was no time for -further explanation, and merely saying--"You are joking, surely," he -withdrew.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meanwhile, Neville, in dead silence had been brought to his -ground, and Stallfed gave him some directions in a low voice. "Is the -handkerchief tight round your arm?" he asked--"well, raise your pistol -smartly, keep him on the outside of your elbow, and you are sure to -hit him. Can't you steady your hand, man? That d--d shaking will ruin -you!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Neville answered not a word, and it is probable that at that moment he -neither saw, heard, nor understood. The two seconds, however, retired; -and, as it had been arranged that the parties were to fire together, -the "one, two, three" was pronounced, and both pistols went off very -nearly at the same moment. Neville's, indeed, was a little the first, -as he had been instructed by his friend, to fire even before the word -"three" was pronounced. To the surprise of all parties present, not -only did Morley fire directly in the air, but Neville, notwithstanding -his terror, his confusion, and his shaking hand, sent his ball with so -true an aim, that it passed through Morley's coat, and slightly -wounded him, by grazing his right shoulder. Unconscious of his -success, however, he fell to the ground at once, as soon as he heard -the report of his adversary's pistol; but upon Stallfed and the -surgeon coming up, both of whom had clearly seen, that Morley had -fired in the air, the swindler got upon his feet again, declaring that -he had stumbled over a stone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stumbled!" exclaimed Stallfed, in an angry tone; "why what the devil -business had you to move at all? I suppose, Colonel Lieberg, as your -friend fired in the air, we cannot demand another fire!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Ere Lieberg could reply, the party in the field was increased by three -or four other persons, at the head of whom appeared R----, the -Bow-street officer, coming up, as was then usually the case, in -encounters of such a kind, somewhat slowly and tardily, to prevent a -duel, which had already taken place.</p> - -<p class="normal">"These, I presume," said Lieberg, as he marked the approach of the new -comers; "these, I presume, are the gentlemen whom your friend -expected, and of course we shall have the pleasure of figuring at -Bow-street, while you have the satisfaction of seeing the whole in a -newspaper."</p> - -<p class="normal">By the time this was said, the officers were up with them, and gave -them intimation that they must present themselves before a magistrate. -To Lieberg and Morley, R---- and his companions were perfectly civil -and deferential; but with Neville and Captain Stallfed--ay, and with -the surgeon those gentlemen had brought thither, the officers were -quite friendly and familiar. Promising to appear at Bow-street as soon -as the magistrates took their seat in the office, Lieberg and Morley -got into the cabriolet, and drove away, Morley tying a handkerchief -round his arm to stanch the blood, which was now trickling through his -coat. The officers remained with the res-t of the party, and R--- with -his hands in his breeches pockets, gazed over the chariot and four -horses with a cunning smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why Nevvy," he said, "this is a flare-up, and will cost you a -trifle--I take it!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I'll tell you what, R----," said the Captain, "it ought to be worth -five hundred pounds to him, if he manages the matter well. Why, having -fought a duel with Sir Morley Ernstein, and wounded him in the arm, is -enough to make a man of him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hard to do that," said R----, with a knowing look; "why, Nevvy, how -did you ever screw yourself up to come to the scratch?--cost you a -pint of thunder and lightning, I'll bet. But come, we must be jogging; -as the chay is full, I'll get up behind. We wont put the darbies on -you, this time, Nevvy; though, if you don't mind what you're about, -it'll come to that, I give you warning. I had some talk about you, the -other day, with the old gentleman in the wig, and he said, it wouldn't -do much longer; so keep quiet, there's a good fellow."</p> - -<p class="normal">The first case called on before the magistrates that morning, was that -of the duel; the tidings of which had spread far and wide through -London, before ten o'clock, and the office was consequently full of -reporters. The matter was soon settled, in the usual manner; but the -magistrate in a grave, but kindly, tone, thought fit to address to -Morley a few words of remonstrance, upon the practice of duelling in -general, adding a caution, in regard of the choice of associates, -while his eye rested with stern severity upon Neville and his worthy -second.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thank you much, sir," said Morley, with his usual firm and manly -manner, "for the warning that you give me; but, you will understand -that these persons are not my associates, and not even my -acquaintances. I chanced to meet one of them in the commission of acts -which I judged imprudent and wrong, and I threatened him with -chastisement. As he found a person bearing his Majesty's commission, -to act as his friend on the occasion, I thought fit to give him that -satisfaction which is usual amongst gentlemen; reserving to myself the -right, and holding firmly the determination, of chastising him as I -promised, should he give me further occasion for offence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will beg of these gentlemen of the press, to remark," said Lieberg, -turning towards the reporters, "that my friend, Sir Morley Ernstein, -only consented to meet Mr. Neville, because he did not choose to -refuse any man satisfaction when it was demanded; but in order to -guard against a bad precedent being established in favour of Mr. -Neville, let me add, that I consider him a coward as well as a -blackguard, and only regret that my friend treated him with so much -lenity."</p> - -<p class="normal">He was going to add more, but the magistrate interfered, and Lieberg. -left the place, accompanied by Morley, the former saying, with a -laugh--</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was necessary, my dear Ernstein, to make some observation on the -business, which these gentlemen would not very much like repeated, -otherwise they would dress up so smart a story of it in the -newspapers, that Neville, for the rest of his life, would be treated -as a gentleman, and have the privilege of plundering all sorts of -young fools with impunity."</p> - -<p class="normal">Notwithstanding all Lieberg's precautions, the report of the affair in -the newspapers, was such as newspaper reports but too frequently are. -There was so much truth in the statement as to give it perfect -verisimilitude, and to render it impossible to say that it was all a -lie, but with so much left untold as to create an impression as -erroneous as if the whole had been untrue. It appeared by the report, -that Sir Morley Ernstein had fought the well-known Mr. Neville, and -had been severely wounded in the arm; that the parties had been -brought to Bow-street, and bound over to keep the peace, some sharp -words passing between them in the office. The statement ended with the -words--"The quarrel, we find, took place about a lady!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XIV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein cast down the evening newspaper in disgust, -and walked -up and down the room with angry feelings in his heart, which would not -bear control. Whither was it that his thoughts first wandered? The -reader need hardly ask--it was to Juliet Carr. As early in the day as -the usages of society had permitted, he had called upon Lady Malcolm, -but, as almost invariably happens when one has a particular object in -seeing any friend, male or female, both Lady Malcolm herself, and Miss -Carr were reported by the servant to be out. His next visit was to Mr. -Hamilton, and there the report was very unfavourable. The next was to -a surgeon; for his shoulder, though the wound had been but slight, was -becoming very painful. The man of healing, of course, put him to ten -times more pain, in order to give him relief; and thus Morley had all -the most unpleasant preparatives that a man can have, for seeing his -name in a newspaper. He had been disappointed in his expectations--he -had been grieved for a friend--he had been put to positive pain -himself, and now he saw such an account of an affair, which was -assuredly not discreditable to himself, as to produce an impression -the most to be dreaded, on the minds of those he loved and esteemed. -His imagination was a quick one, and with the rapid magic of thought, -he summoned to his mind, all that Juliet Carr would think--all that -Juliet Carr would feel, on hearing that he had quarrelled with, and -fought a swindler "<i>on account of a lady!</i>"</p> - -<p class="normal">Men little know to what an immense extent their own acquaintance with -all the evil and wickedness of the world affects their estimate of -other people's thoughts and opinions. The rascal, nine times out of -ten, supposes every body to possess the same rascally feelings as -himself; and men, in picturing to their own mind the thoughts of -women, imagine that those thoughts are founded upon knowledge that few -of the gentler sex have any means of possessing. Morley Ernstein, -himself, though he believed the mind of Juliet Carr to be as pure as -that of an angel, fancied nevertheless, that the moment her eye rested -upon that paragraph, she would see him in the midst of scenes of vice -and licentiousness, quarrelling with a blackleg, for an abandoned -woman.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley was quite mistaken, however. It is true, that scarcely one of -all the many male eyes which that day read the news of Bow-street, -failed to receive exactly such an impression from the paragraph -concerning himself. But what did Juliet Carr think? Any thing but what -her lover supposed. Juliet Carr was a great reader of character; she -was endowed by nature with that discriminating power--for depend upon -it, reader, it is a gift, not an acquirement--which enables us by some -traits, often even undefinable to ourselves, and generally totally -unnoticed by others, to distinguish at once the innate or habitual -springs of action in those with whom we are brought in contact. I know -not well, whether that gift be most likely to prove a blessing or a -curse. It may often guide our actions, but it seldom guides our -affections, and too often renders the struggle between inclination and -reason, more painful than it always is. Juliet Carr had discovered -very rapidly all the principal traits of Morley Ernstein's character; -but even had not that been the case, she was not sufficiently -acquainted with the evils of the world in general, to conjure up the -picture which Morley supposed would present itself to her imagination.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus, when she read the account of the duel, she felt quite certain -that the cause of quarrel was some impetuous act springing from a -generous impulse. When she came to the fact of his having fired in the -air, a smile of pleasure brightened her face, crossing the look of -painful anxiety with which she had been reading; but when in the end -she found that he was wounded, she dropped the paper from her hand -with feelings of mingled fear and sorrow, and with something like -self-reproach, as if her counsels of the night before had caused the -injury under which he suffered. Taking up the newspaper quickly again, -she carried it at once into the neighbouring room, where Lady Malcolm -was sitting, and pointing out the paragraph with a pale cheek and an -anxious eye, which her worthy cousin did not fail to remark, she asked -Lady Malcolm, if she could not send to obtain some more certain -information as to the real state of their young friend. Lady Malcolm -replied, that she would write at once, and the letter was accordingly -despatched.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was now about half-past eight o'clock at night, and to make sure of -the note being properly delivered, and that a correct account of -Morley Ernstein's health should be brought, Juliet's cousin despatched -an old and faithful servant of her own; who was well acquainted with -good Adam Gray, the young gentleman's attached dependent. In about -three quarters of an hour the man returned, saying, that he had left -the note, and that Sir Morley Ernstein must be better, for he had gone -out, the waiter said, on purpose to see Miss Barham.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lady Malcolm remarked that Juliet turned slightly pale, and being the -best disposed woman in the world to relieve persons from unpleasant -sensations, she replied, "Nonsense! there must be some mistake, -William. Did you see old Adam Gray."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, my lady," replied the man; "I did not; but the waiter told me; -that Sir Morley had especially directed him, if any one called, to say -that he had gone to see Miss Barham."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lady Malcolm was one of those who make the most of a difficulty by -attempting to get over it, and she was in the high road to try whether -she could not persuade the man that he was mistaken, when Juliet rose -quietly, and went into the other room, as if to seek a book. Her -ladyship then saw that there was no need of proceeding further, and -suffered her servant to depart.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meanwhile, Juliet rested her hand upon the table in the next -room for a moment, and gazed thoughtfully at the lamp. The flame was -bright and clear--and whether she found some fanciful affinity between -the object on which her eyes were fixed, and that of which her mind -was in search, I know not; but certainly at that moment she was -seeking for light, upon subjects connected with her own feelings, and -with the circumstances round her, and the lamp of the mind had -suddenly become dim and shadowy. Now many a reader may think that the -question with which she busied herself was, whether Morley Ernstein -was really in love with another? whether, after all that his lips had -said, and all that his look had said--nay, all that his whole -demeanour had said, during the preceding evening, his heart could -really be given to a different object--his affections at that very -time engrossed by another? Such, however, was not the question that -Juliet Carr addressed to herself. It did not at all refer to the -feelings of Morley Ernstein. It referred to her own. She asked -herself, what it was that made such strange sensations shoot through -her bosom, at the thought of his passing that evening with another? -She asked herself, why she should feel as if a cold hand pressed her -heart, at the idea of his being attached to another? Had she been -dreaming? Had she been indulging visions that she had no right to -indulge? or, had she really suffered her imagination to be captivated -by a wild, gay, ardent, young man, who perhaps addressed the same -flattery of words and manner to some new acquaintance every night? -Juliet Carr was frightened at her own feelings, and for the rest of -the evening, though not absolutely melancholy, she was grave and -thoughtful.</p> - -<p class="normal">About eleven o'clock on the following day, Lady Malcolm went out, not -telling her fair visitor where she was going at that early hour. It -must be recollected, that she was first cousin to Juliet's mother, and -her period of life was somewhat more than that mother's age would have -been had she been still living. She was, perhaps forty-eight or nine; -and cares and sorrows--those sad beauty-killers--had left her less of -the appearance of youth than might have been her portion, if her life -had passed smoothly and happily. It was upon the strength of her age, -then, that Lady Malcolm now ventured towards Berkeley-square, in order -to visit Morley Ernstein, and enquire into his proceedings with her -own lips.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meantime, however, that young gentleman himself, as so often -happens on such occasions, had been impelled towards the house of Lady -Malcolm, taking his way, as if on purpose, by streets the most -distinct and opposite to those which the good lady herself pursued. He -had not the slightest idea, it is true, that there was a chance of her -coming to call upon him; but still, if the truth must be told, his -heart beat with a pleasurable pulse when he heard that Lady Malcolm -was out, and that Miss Carr was at home.</p> - -<p class="normal">He followed the servant quickly up the stairs, through the first -drawing-room, and into the second, where Juliet was busy, writing a -letter; so that she scarcely heard his name announced ere he was -before her. The colour mounted up into her cheek, a smile came upon -her lip, and she received him kindly and courteously; but still there -was, in her manner, or at least Morley thought so, a certain degree of -coldness, which his warm and eager nature could not endure, even for a -moment. Time to think had been allowed him since the first impression, -which had been produced upon his mind by reading the newspaper-account -of his duel with Neville, and various other circumstances had -combined, to fix him in a resolution which he now proceeded to -execute. He sat down, then, at once beside Juliet Carr, saying--</p> - -<p class="normal">"You must forgive me for coming at this early hour, and, still -further, you must forgive me for preventing you from writing your -letter, perhaps for a long time, as I intend to stay here till Lady -Malcolm comes back."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was something in his manner that agitated Juliet Carr, but she -would not give way to the sensations of her own heart, nor suffer -herself to fancy, for a moment, that there was any other feeling -towards her in his, than common friendship.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed, I am very happy to see you," she replied; "we were very -anxious to hear of you last night; for we saw, in the newspaper, an -account--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of my having become a duellist, notwithstanding all your kind -cautions," said Morley.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes," answered Juliet Carr, with a bright smile; "but also of your -having acted well and nobly, even though you did yield to the bad -influence of man's customs."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You mean in not firing at my adversary," said Morley. "Well, I will -confess to you, that at the moment I was conversing with you, the -night before, I had fully made up my mind to shoot him. Nay, more, I -thought I should be serving society by so doing."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, then," exclaimed Juliet, warmly, "I do rejoice that I said what I -did, if I am to believe it had any effect upon you. Think, with what -different feelings we should now have met, if you had killed that -man--think how sad and melancholy you would have been."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your words had every effect," replied Morley, "for they entirely -stopped me in my purpose, and I will own, now, that I am most glad I -listened to them; not only, because it gives me pleasure to have -followed your counsel, but because I am satisfied, that counsel was -right; and now let us speak, Juliet," he continued, "of that newspaper -account which you saw of the business, for, believe me, your good -opinion is more valuable to me than anything else in life."</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet blushed, and her heart beat quickly; but following that first -impulse, which generally affects the mind of woman on such occasions, -she sought to avoid the more agitating part of the theme, and replied, -quickly, "I see that one part of the account must be false; for it -stated that you were severely wounded. It was that which made me and -Lady Malcolm so anxious to hear how you were. She wrote to you last -night, but--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was out," replied Morley, with that straight-forward frankness of -demeanour, which wrought a change in Juliet's feelings at every -word--"I would have come, in answer to her note, myself, but I was -obliged to go out, early in the evening, to see a young lady of the -name of Barham, whose situation is one which, I think, will interest -you deeply when you come to hear the particulars."</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet Carr drew a long, deep sigh; her eyes remained fixed upon the -table; the fine turned upper lip quivered, as she listened; and the -beautiful nostril expanded, as if some struggling feelings in her -breast required more breath in their eager contest.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was my intention," continued Morley, "to interest Mr. Hamilton, my -former guardian, in this business, and to induce him to do all for -Miss Barham that I could wish to do; but he, I am sorry to say, is -extremely ill, and I must apply to Lady Malcolm and yourself to help -me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, that we will, willingly!" exclaimed Juliet. "But what is the -matter, Morley?--why cannot you act for yourself? Is this the lady, -about whom they say you fought the duel?"</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a slight smile upon her face as she asked the last -question--but each of the three was somewhat difficult to answer, and -Morley chose the least.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was not exactly about her that the quarrel took place," he said, -"though it was in her house. This man, Neville, who is a swindler, had -gone there with purposes which, perhaps, Juliet, I could better -explain to Lady Malcolm than yourself. It is sufficient to say, that -they were insulting to an innocent and amiable girl, overwhelmed with -misfortunes of various kinds: first, the death of her father, a poor, -but respectable clergyman, after a long and tedious illness, which -exhausted all his resources; next, the pressure of poverty; and last, -but greatest of all, the infamous conduct of a brother, who has -abandoned himself to every sort of evil, and would sell or betray his -sister for a very slight consideration. It was the wish to see if I -could do something, both to relieve and reclaim this youth, that took -me to Miss Barham's house, when I met the man, Neville, there. I had -never beheld her before, but I then saw enough to make me sure that -she was innocent and good, and you may easily imagine, that I did not -feel disposed to suffer her to be injured or insulted in my presence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Juliet, enthusiastically, "I am sure you would -not--I am sure that you would do everything in your power to protect -and assist her."</p> - -<p class="normal">Somehow or another, I know not well how, Morley Ernstein seemed to -feel he had got a little the advantage of Juliet Carr, and he replied, -with a smile--</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am most anxious to do everything; but how it is to be done is the -question, Juliet; for I must let you into one secret--this Miss Barham -is young and very beautiful."</p> - -<p class="normal">He saw the colour in Juliet's cheek vary, in a manner that gave him -greater pleasure than anything that he had beheld for many a day; and -yet he hastened to restore it to a steadier tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There are two difficulties, Juliet," he said; "one of which I do not -like to encounter, and one of which I have no right to encounter. You -will easily understand," he continued, with a smile, "that I cannot -take this pretty Helen Barham to my house, or even send her thither -and give her an asylum there, though, for a thousand reasons, it were -better that she should leave London. If she remains, I cannot shield -her from persecution and annoyance; and my being with her frequently, -might produce an impression on the minds of others, that my views -towards her were of an evil nature; while in herself," he added, -slowly and gravely, "it might induce a belief that I am actuated by -feelings of personal attachment, which I can never feel. Do not -suppose me vain, Juliet; but it is right to remember that, thrown -altogether into my society, resting upon me for protection and -support, experiencing some kindness from me, and feeling more -gratitude than I deserve, she might learn to entertain sentiments that -I could never return, and should be deeply grieved to disappoint."</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet's lips moved, though there was no sound proceeded from them, -but her heart said something that Morley Ernstein might have been glad -to hear.</p> - -<p class="normal">"To speak the truth, Juliet," continued Morley, "it is more lest she -should mistake me, than lest others should mistake me, that I am -anxious. It so seldom happens that a man is very eager to serve a -woman without some motive, that she might well think I am influenced -by an attachment to herself, unless--unless--unless, in short, I can -find some more proper person than myself to stand prominently forward -in this business. Some facts which I heard last night, and which made -me hurry to her instantly, render it the more necessary that she -should be removed from her present abode at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why?" demanded Juliet; "is she in any danger?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"She is in danger of being placed in the most painful situation -possible," replied Morley. "Her brother has thrown himself entirely in -the power of the swindler Neville. Their views upon this poor girl are -such as I can hardly explain, for there are things which, to ears so -pure as yours, are offensive even to hear named."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Alas!" replied Juliet, looking up in his face, with a sweet yet sad -smile, "one cannot live any time in the world, Morley, without being -well aware that there are many vices and evils of all kinds going on -around us. I am not sure that it would be beneficial to us to be -ignorant that such things exist, if they must exist; but, however, I -can easily conceive that this man's views and purposes are infamous. -The only thing I cannot comprehend is, how a brother can lend himself -to disgrace a sister. What can be his inducement? What can be the -motive strong enough to lead him to an act which one would imagine the -most depraved mind would shrink from with horror?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The hope of life, Juliet," replied Morley--"the fear of death. These -are his inducements; but that part of the subject I must not touch -upon with you. Wherever he is concerned, I will deal with the affair -myself, and hope still to save him from the consequences of his own -crime and folly. If he cannot be saved, however, we must shield his -sister from his importunities; and if you will help me in this--if you -will give her your countenance, assistance, and protection, I am sure -she will be grateful, and I, Juliet, will be deeply so."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will do anything you like," cried Juliet, with a glowing -countenance; "I will go to her this moment, if you please. Oh, I -forgot I was in London!" she added, sitting down again on the sofa, -from which she had partly risen. "But, however, whatever you think -best to be done, I am quite ready to do. You know, I believe, Morley, -that my means of helping her--in point of money, I mean--are not very -large, and that I have some poor pensioners at home, but still I have -quite enough to give her assistance for the time, and I shall soon -have more."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley gazed at her with sensations that kept him silent for a moment. -"It is unnecessary," he replied, at length; "I can supply all that. I -have far more than I know how to employ properly, Juliet, and, indeed, -I think that when I have engaged you so deeply in this affair that you -cannot escape me, I shall try to induce you to give me counsel in the -disposal of that wealth which is too great not to imply a serious -obligation to employ it properly. Will you be my monitor, Juliet?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet Carr looked down, and again turned pale, saying, in a low -voice, "Willingly, Morley, if I could be vain enough to think my -counsels would aid or benefit you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Strange as it may seem, the same sudden paleness which had alarmed -Morley Ernstein on the preceding night, making him doubt whether -Juliet's heart was free, and resolve to bridle his impetuous spirit -and proceed coolly and slowly to ascertain what were her real feelings -before he committed himself, lest vanity should meet a rebuff and love -a disappointment--the same sudden paleness now produced a contrary -effect. During their conference of that morning there had been a -thousand little signs, a thousand little passing expressions of the -countenance, which had raised hope and expectation. There had been a -light in her eyes when she raised them suddenly to his face, a -changing colour under his glance, an agitation in the voice, an -occasional embarrassment in the manner,--all of which shewed Morley -Ernstein that he had the power, at least, of producing emotion in the -heart of Juliet Carr, and there is something in that power which -renders it akin either to love or fear. Morley was very sure that -there was no touch of the latter passion in her feelings. He hoped, -then, naturally enough, that there might be somewhat of the former. -How the matter would have gone on at that moment, Heaven only knows, -but just as the words passed Juliet's lips, there was a loud knock at -the street-door, and Juliet added--"There is Lady Malcolm!"</p> - -<p class="normal">There was no time left then for any long explanations, but Morley took -the hand which rested on the table--it was certainly a fair book, -that might have been kissed by Jews or infidels, with no light -devotion--and pressing his lips upon it, he said--"Thus, dear Juliet, -I seal your promise."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What promise?" exclaimed Juliet Carr, with a start and a blush.</p> - -<p class="normal">"To be my monitor," replied Morley. He would have fain added "for -life," but he dared not risk all at that moment, and ere either of -them could utter more, Lady Malcolm entered the room.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Each act and fact in human nature, and in human life, is -connected by -so many links, with everything around, that the man who sets out to -tell a history, if he would tell it completely, has as many different -threads to follow, as a spider in the middle of his web. If he pursue -one for any length, without deviating, he finds that he has left forty -or fifty other branches on either side, which--each of them more or -less--affect the narrative in the end. He has to come back for each, -to follow each out carefully, or else some of the meshes in the web -will be found broken, when most he wants them. Thus must we return, to -take up the history of Morley Ernstein, at that particular point where -we left off to expatiate upon men's miscalculations of the thoughts of -women, being thence seduced away by very natural inducements, to tell -what was really going on in the mind of sweet Juliet Carr; and thence -again, as speedily to recount her interview with Morley on the -subsequent day.</p> - -<p class="normal">After having thrown down the newspaper, then, and strode up and down -the room for some time, with indignation and bitterness of heart, -Morley began to consider what was the best course for him to pursue in -order to prevent such impressions, as he feared had been produced, -from becoming permanent in the mind of her he loved. In short, he -acted like any other impetuous man. He first became violently angry at -the apprehension of an evil, and then, after having wasted half an -hour in the whirl of passion, began to do what it would have been -better to do at first, and think of means to remedy what had gone -amiss. He determined, then, as we have seen, to tell Juliet Carr as -much as he could tell of Helen Barham's history, and to explain -frankly and straightforwardly his whole conduct. The only question -was, how was this to be brought about naturally? Juliet Carr would -certainly never demand any account of how or why he had fought the -duel, or who was the lady to whom the newspapers referred. Nay, more, -most probably she would even shrink from the subject altogether, if -such suspicions were excited in her mind as he anticipated.</p> - -<p class="normal">After some thought, the plan suddenly flashed upon his mind, of -interesting Lady Malcolm, and even Juliet herself, in the situation of -Helen Barham, and thus delivering himself from two difficulties at -once. What politicians love does make of us! As soon as the idea -struck him, he saw the whole benefit of it, and resolved to follow it -out immediately. He would break through all ceremony; he would go to -Lady Malcolm that very night, and with this view he rang the bell, and -asked if he could have his dinner earlier than he had ordered it.</p> - -<p class="normal">The waiter replied, "Yes, sir;" and, as usual in such cases, the -dinner was half an hour later than ever. Morley ate it, when it did -come, as fast as possible, but he had just concluded when information -was brought him, that a gentleman wished to see him upon business, and -ordering him to be admitted, with a somewhat impatient expression, Mr. -Higgins was ushered in with a deferential air. With that careful -eschewance of all listening ears, which was one point of Mr. Higgins's -prudence, that gentleman remained bowing in silence, till the waiter -was out of the room, after which he approached a little nearer to the -table, saying--</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have done the matter, sir. I can tell you all about it, now; I set -somebody to pump Nevvy himself, for I could make nothing of Bill, and -I find the lad has done that which shews he prefers hemp to lint any -time, by way of a neck-handkerchief. He'll swing, sir--there's no -helping it. He'll swing--you'll see," and Mr. Higgins stuck his hands -forcibly into his breeches pockets, as the most powerful mode of -asseveration which he could adopt. "I don't like exactly to tell you -what he's done, sir," he continued, "though I'm sure you wouldn't -peach, but still--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know what he has done," answered Morley, calmly; "all I want to -know now is, whose is the name he forged?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Higgins gazed at him in some surprise, at finding that the young -gentleman had arrived so rapidly at so dangerous a piece of -information.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, sir," he replied, "as you know so much, I might as well tell you -all, but yet, when a lad's neck's in jeopardy--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"All I seek," said Morley, somewhat impatiently, "is the lad's own -good. If I cannot benefit him I will not hurt him, depend upon it; so -speak out, Mr. Higgins--who is the man?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, he is a friend of yours, sir," replied Higgins, "that is what -makes me so careful."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mr. Hamilton!" said Morley, looking in the man's face with -consternation; for he well knew that the crime of forgery was one -which, in the eyes of the banker, however tender and lenient he was on -other occasions, could only be expiated by death. "Mr. Hamilton! That -is, indeed, unfortunate!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no, sir," answered Higgins, "both he and Neville knew better than -that. The Colonel, sir--the Colonel's the man. No one would ever -believe that any of Neville's party could have a bill of Mr. -Hamilton's, but as for the Colonel, sir--the Count, some folks call -him--being a little bit upon the turf, and a good deal in the world, -and all that, the thing was likely enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">While the man had been speaking, Morley Ernstein had revolved in his -own mind all the consequences of Lieberg's possessing the power of -life and death over William Barham. He doubted not, for a moment, that -his friend would abandon all thought of proceeding against the -unfortunate young man, at his request; but after what had passed -between them the morning before, his mind could not help entertaining -a fear, that Lieberg might use the hold he had acquired, to the injury -of Helen Barham. He knew that Lieberg would think it doing her no -wrong, to seek to place her in a situation of affluence and ease, at -the expense of what the world in general calls virtue. He could not -help acknowledging, too, that Lieberg's chance of success in such a -pursuit was very much more probable than that of the man Neville. -Strikingly handsome as he was in person, there was a fascination about -his manners, a charm in his eloquence, which Morley himself could not -resist. He felt that it was sometimes dangerous to him, but yet it was -most agreeable; and even he himself, with all his strong good sense, -while talking with Lieberg, lost the clear distinction of what was -right and wrong, or only retained it by a great struggle, which, if he -abandoned for a moment, all his ideas on such subjects became vague -and shadowy, as in that pleasant moment when tired, but not too tired, -we sink into the arms of sleep, scarcely knowing at what point our -waking thoughts desert us. What might be the influence of such a man, -Morley asked, over a young and inexperienced girl like Helen Barham, -when he had the life of her brother in his hands? Morley feared very -much for the result: he had marked, in that poor girl, the traces of -strong and deep feelings; eager and somewhat wild enthusiasms--seeds, -in short, that might be speedily made to shoot up into powerful -passions. Yes, he feared very much for the result! There was nothing -to be done, but to remove her speedily and at once from the scene, -before the attempt to save her brother was made, and his resolution -was taken accordingly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There, Mr. Higgins," he said, pushing across a note to that worthy; -"there is what I promised; and now tell me one or two things more -about this business. First of all, how soon is the matter likely to be -discovered?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, on Saturday, sir," replied Higgins; "I hear it's a promissory -note at a month, and it's up on Saturday. Neville has made the boy -believe that he can and will stop the thing, but he can no more do -that than he can fly. The note is out of his hands long ago. The way -the thing was done was very unfair to the lad, too, I hear. He has a -great art of imitating any writing he sees, and they got him to copy -the Colonel's name, which he had never heard of before, making him -think that it was that of somebody who had been dead a long while. -When he found out the trick, however, and was in so great a fright -that they thought he would go and blab the whole directly, they coaxed -him down by giving him some forty or fifty pounds of the money, which -he went and spent directly with a girl named Sally Cole. Neville, too, -persuaded him that he would take the bill up, though Neville took care -not to be present when William signed the name."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is strange," said Morley, "how a set of men, so well known to be -scoundrels as these are, can ever get a forged bill like that into -circulation."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh it is very easily done, sir," replied Higgins, "it goes through -half-a-dozen hands, each of whom make a good thing by it. They sold it -to a man for half the money, or perhaps less; then he sold it to one -of the low regular money-lenders for thirty or forty pounds more. He -again sent it to another, who had a somewhat better name; and then, -when my Lord This-thing or my Lord That-thing comes to him for four or -five thousand pounds, he will give him this bill as part payment. -However, they'll soon get hold of poor Bill, for every one of them -will give him up, and there are plenty ready to turn evidence against -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then you think there is no chance," said Morley, "of Neville ever -recovering the bill?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not he," answered Higgins; "a thousand to one, sir, it is in the -hands of some banker by this time, and unless one could prig the -clerk's pocket-book, there is no stopping the matter now. The only way -would be, to get Bill out of the way, but I doubt if these fellows -would let him go; for they know very well, that Sir Richard will have -one of them: and as the boy is boots, you see, sir, they think he had -better swing early."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They may find themselves mistaken," said Morley; "however, I must see -what can be done. Good night, Mr. Higgins."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I say, sir," said Higgins, with a sly look, before he departed: "Have -you got hold of the young lady yet?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"You mistake, my good friend," said Morley, sternly; "I have no such -intentions as you suppose."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, sir," said the man, nothing abashed, "you'll easily manage it -if you like. Bill Barham told me he was going to call upon you -to-night between seven and eight; and you could easily bring him to -terms--that I saw very well. No offence, sir, I hope. Good night."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein remained standing for a moment in thought. "The girl -must be removed," he said, speaking to himself, "and if the youth can -be induced to go and confess all to Lieberg, with an offer of repaying -the money, I doubt not all may yet go well. When Lieberg finds that -Helen Barham is gone, and that even her brother does not know where to -find her, he will of course think that I have seduced her, and taken -her away. Well, let him do so, for the present! If Lady Malcolm helps -me, we will soon convince him of the contrary. In the meantime things -must take their course; I will go to her at once, and see if she will -put herself entirely under my direction, before I speak with Lady -Malcolm."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ere he set out, he left directions to inform William Barham, if that -praiseworthy young gentleman called, that he was gone to his -sister's house; and in Davis-street he got into a hackney-coach with -the intention of proceeding thither more quickly. That sad and tardy -contrivance for wasting men's time, however, was not at all suited to -the eager spirit of Morley Ernstein, and ere it had rumbled through -more than two or three streets, he made the coachman stop, paid him -his fare, jumped out, and proceeded on foot. On arriving at Helen -Barham's dwelling, he was admitted instantly; for the maid, who had -her own notion of the object of his visits, had heard all about him -from the groom, who had accompanied him at first, and judging that the -arrangement would do very well, took care to be especially civil to -one whom she supposed would be her future master. She even made way -for him to go up the stairs before her, and Morley, who was too eager -to be ceremonious, passed on, and opened the drawing-room door -himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen Barham had learned to know his knock and his step, however, and -with her pencil in her hand, as she sat working hard at a drawing -before her, she gazed up with a glad and eager look towards the -opening door, to see if her ear had not deceived her. It was by this -time night. There might be a ray or two of daylight still in the sky, -but not enough for her to see her drawing. The windows therefore had -been closed, and the lamp lighted, and as she sat with the rays -falling full upon her face, with her bright eyes raised towards the -opening door, her lips apart and shewing the white teeth, her form -bent forward with expectation, and the fair, delicate hand holding the -pencil suspended over the paper, certainly nothing more lovely could -have presented itself to the eyes of Morley Ernstein. Then came up in -her face the light of joy as she saw him, the beaming of gratitude and -regard, as if to give sunshine to the picture.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was altogether like a fine Rembrandt, for, both morally and -physically, the full light was all concentrated in that one spot in -the room, and everything else around was dark to the eye, and to the -heart. There she sat, alone--a being, formed to ornament society, to -give happiness to others, to receive happiness from them, to animate, -to cheer, to soothe, to taste, to feel, to enjoy! There she sat, -alone, pursuing solitary and ungrateful labour through the long hours -of the night, with sad thoughts as her only companions, and no voice -of father, of brother, or of husband, to comfort and support her. The -first reflection that crossed the mind of Morley Ernstein, after the -impression of her dazzling beauty subsided, was, how sad and gloomy -must her existence have been for many a long day past! The feelings in -his heart might well have tempted him to take the stricken lamb to his -bosom, to nourish, and to cheer her there, without one evil sensation, -or one thought but for her good; and the reader may well pardon him, -if--although he was guarded by a passion, intense and true, for -another--if, notwithstanding all he could do, there was a tenderness -in his manner, a gentle affection in his tone, that was very dangerous -to poor Helen Barham. She sprang up, she held out her hand to him, she -exclaimed, with a look that told the whole joy of her heart--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! how glad I am to see you! Do you know, I have found a way of -supporting myself quite well, till I can get some more scholars. Since -I saw you, I have sold two of my drawings to a shop in Pall Mall, and -received two guineas for them. I did not think the things were worth -anything, but merely for my scholars to copy; but as I went past the -windows of a drawing shop, I saw some that did not seem better than -mine, so I resolved to try. The man gave me two guineas at once, and -said he would take as many more as I could bring; so that now, you -see, I am rich."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am afraid, my dear Miss Barham," said Morley, with a smile, "that I -have come to destroy all your fine projects; but, do not be alarmed, -it is to substitute others in their place, which, I trust, may not be -disagreeable to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">The sensation of her position in regard to Morley Ernstein, her total -dependence, as it were, upon him, the power he seemed to have over her -fate, and the right of interfering in it, which he had at once -assumed, never seemed to affect Helen Barham painfully when she was -pouring forth expressions of gratitude for what he had done, or when -showing her thankfulness in word, in look, or in tone. But when he -seemed about to propose any line of conduct, or offer any further -assistance, a vague sensation of apprehension, as it were, a sort of -indistinct consciousness that whatever he asked her, were it right or -wrong, she would do, caused the fluttering blood to come into her -cheek, her heart to beat, and her breathing to grow quick with -expectation.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is it you wish me to do?" she asked, in a tone that implied, -"You have but to tell me, and I will do it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley paused for a moment before he answered. There was something in -the whole circumstances of the moment, and especially in the -extraordinary difference between the manner with which Helen Barham -now received him, and that with which she had first met him some days -before, which affected him strangely. Was there again a struggle in -his heart? Was there again temptation? Was there again the voice of -the earthly spirit prompting him to rush impetuously to the -gratification of every impulse without fear or thought of the -consequences to himself and others? Reader, we will not pry-into his -heart too closely; we will not look for that which it might be painful -to find. If Morley Ernstein was tempted, he overcame the temptation; -nor did it reach such a point, that the better spirit was called to -fight vehemently against the adversary.</p> - -<p class="normal">He paused for a moment, and his heart beat quick--but that was all; -and he then explained to Helen that he had discovered the person whose -name her brother had so criminally used--that he was a friend of his -own--and that he believed, beyond all doubt, he should have the means -of inducing him to stop all proceedings against the offender. In the -next place, he told her, that he still thought it absolutely -necessary, both on her own and her brother's account, that she should, -immediately remove from her present abode, into the country. He -informed her that it was his intention, if possible, to induce William -Barham to go abroad to one of the British Colonies, where employment -of an honourable kind would be found for him; but, at the same time, -he showed her, that if her brother was still suffered to entertain any -hopes of concealing the forgery, by playing into the hands of the man -Neville, he might be kept lingering on in England till it was too late -to save him, and at all events might never be disentangled from the -evil companions to whom he had devoted himself. At the same time he -urged that the only way to make him abandon every attempt to carry out -his infamous bargain with Neville, was to place her beyond his reach -altogether, and not even to let him know where she was.</p> - -<p class="normal">She listened for a moment in silence, with her eyes bent down, and -evidently full of thought, and then looked up in his face, with -something like a tear upon her eyelashes. "You have been so kind and -good," she said, in a faltering voice, "and have shewn yourself so -generous, that I scarcely ought to ask you any questions, but only, I -am afraid--that is to say, having no friend who has yet expressed a -willingness to receive me, I think people might judge it strange, if I -were to go anywhere with you alone--I mean, under your care--without -my own brother knowing it. But I see you are smiling--I have mistaken -you. But, oh, no! indeed I have not doubted you--I am sure, Sir Morley -Ernstein, you would not wrong me in any way;" and she gave him her -hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not for the world," he replied. "I smiled at myself, Miss Barham--my -mind being fully occupied with my own plans for you. I forgot to tell -you one half of them, which ought to have been told you at first. My -friend, Mr. Hamilton's illness has embarrassed me; but there is an -excellent lady, an old friend of my mother's, to whom I intend to -apply for assistance, which I know she will give, for she is not a -little of an enthusiast herself in all that is good, and is ever eager -to help misfortune. I will apply to her, and to a young lady who is -now with her, an old friend of mine, and I feel perfectly certain--or -at least very certain--that they will not refuse to give me every sort -of aid in carrying my plans for you into execution. I will go to them -early to-morrow, and doubt not soon to bring you back good news from -them. But let us consider the worst, my dear Miss Barham: suppose I -were to find Lady Malcolm and Miss Carr either not disposed, or not -able to afford or ensure you a safe asylum, I still believe that it -would be absolutely necessary for you, at any risk, and whatever the -world may say, to quit this place, and separate yourself from your -brother for a time. There are occasions on which we must brave the -world's opinion, when we know that we are doing what is right, when -our purposes and views are high and pure, and when, by obeying the -cold dictates of society, we should incur still greater dangers, or -fall into real errors."</p> - -<p class="normal">Was the doctrine that he preached a perilous one? Perhaps it might be -so--at least, as far as human happiness is concerned; for the laws and -customs of the world are exactly like the military code of Great -Britain, which strictly forbids a man to fight a duel, and disgraces -him if he refuses.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen Barham again looked up in his face, and replied, at once--"I -will do anything that you please. Tell me what I ought to do! I am -sure, as I said before, you will not tell me wrong; and I am sure, -also, that when I am away, however criminal you may think him, you -will do the best for my poor brother William."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley gave her every assurance. There was much, however, to be -thought of--much to be spoken of, between them; and he remained nearly -two hours longer with her, in that sort of conversation which, of all -others, perhaps was the most dangerous--dangerous, indeed, to her, -poor girl! They had to speak of all the subjects most interesting to -her--of everything which touched her heart, or her feelings, which -awoke memories of the past, hopes of the future, which aroused dreams, -expectations, wishes, sensations, many of them still living, many of -them gone, and sounding upon the ear of memory like a death-bell in -the midst of the night. She had to talk of all these things with a -man, young, handsome, graceful, captivating, full of varied powers and -rich imagination--her only friend, her preserver, her benefactor. -Alas! for poor Helen Barham!</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XVI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Such as we have described in the last chapter, had been Morley -Ernstein's interview with Helen Barham, on the night preceding his -early visit to Lady Malcolm. When that worthy lady herself returned, -and entered the room where Morley and Juliet Carr were seated, she -might well assure him that she was delighted to see him; for she was -truly delighted to see him there, in that exact spot, seated by -Juliet's side; and yet had she known that he was there, she certainly -would not have seen him at all, for she would not have come home for -an hour. Lady Malcolm loved Juliet Carr sincerely; she loved Morley -Ernstein, too, with affection that had been going on and increasing -from his childhood. She thought it the most natural thing in the world -that they should love each other, and she was quite sure, to see them -wed each other, would very greatly contribute to her own happiness. -Whenever circumstances were in such a predicament, Lady Malcolm, who, -in these respects, was the wisest as well as the kindest woman in the -world, made a point of getting out of the way of the lovers as fast -and as far as possible, but, in the present instance, she discovered -her young friend's visit too late.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley's story was quickly told, and Lady Malcolm soon became deeply -interested in the fate of Helen Barham. She had lived long enough in -the world to comprehend, at a word, the views of Neville, and the sort -of danger from which Morley sought to screen the fair being he had -befriended. To say sooth, on the mind of Lady Malcolm, the newspaper -account of the duel had in some degree produced the effect which -Morley had expected it would produce on every one. The bold and candid -way, however, in which he now told who the lady was, and how the duel -had arisen, not only removed all suspicions from Lady Malcolm's -thoughts, but prevented anything like apprehension of Morley's being -seriously attached to any one else than Juliet Carr; which--to -acknowledge a sad truth--would have been more painful to her, than if -her young friend had really been engaged in some passing intrigue; for -Lady Malcolm was one of those who, from seeing a great deal of the -dissipated society of a court and a metropolis, believed that every -young man must and would commit a certain portion of vices and -follies; forgetting that those vices and follies, though we may turn -from them at an after period and learn to do better, leave behind -them stains of two kinds--stains upon our happiness and upon our -candour--not only regrets, but suspicions--not only the memory of evil -acts, but the knowledge of wickedness and of crime. The tree of which -man rebelliously ate in the garden of Eden, was called the Tree of the -Knowledge of Good and Evil. Had our unhappy first parent paused to -consider, he would have known that he possessed already the knowledge -of good, and that the prohibition of God referred, in fact, to the -tasting of that which could give him the knowledge of evil. He did -eat, and the stain of that fruit came upon his soul; and so is it with -every child of man; we cannot know evil without a spot remaining on -our hearts for ever.</p> - -<p class="normal">However, such was Lady Malcolm's code, in respect to the licence -allowed to men, and such, alas! is the code of many another excellent -woman. She was glad, indeed, to find that it was not the case with -Morley Ernstein; but she was still more glad to find, as I have said, -that the cause of the duel was no serious attachment on the part of -Morley Ernstein to any other lady than Juliet Carr, and she now most -willingly entered into all his views with the zealous benevolence and -kind feeling, which she displayed in all cases, even when her judgment -was not so much in the right as it was in the present instance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will go and see her immediately, my dear Morley," she said; "and I -and Juliet will settle the whole affair with her in five minutes. As -you say, it would be very improper for you to take her into the -country yourself. Why what would the people say, Juliet?--And then he -might fall in love with her, you know," she added, laughing.</p> - -<p class="normal">But Morley answered at once--"There is no fear of that, my dear Lady -Malcolm. I have a buckler against all such dangers. A shield that was -given me accidentally on the very day after I came of age--under my -own park wall too," he added, turning towards Juliet Carr.</p> - -<p class="normal">But her eyes were bent down upon the back of a book which she was -examining attentively, and she only raised them when Lady Malcolm -asked--"Well, Juliet, wont you come upon this good errand? Though I -don't know, I am sure, where we can place her for the time. Must it -absolutely be in the country, Morley? Why could it not be here? She -could have a bed in the little room next to yours, Juliet; and be -quite as well as in the country."</p> - -<p class="normal">"For a day or two," replied Juliet, to whom she looked as if for -approval of her plan; "but I think not for long, my dear cousin. -The object is, you see, to remove her from her brother. Now as long as -she remained entirely in the house, that object would be attained -here, but the first time she went out she might meet him; and one -could not keep the poor girl a close prisoner.--I will write to my -father," she continued; "there are many rooms in our house that are -never used at all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, my dear Juliet!--write to your father!" exclaimed Lady Malcolm, -with some warmth--"write to your father! You know him as well as I do, -and that he would not give you board and lodging yourself, if you did -not pay him."</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet coloured painfully; and Lady Malcolm, perceiving that she had -hurt her, said--"Forgive me, dear Juliet, I did not mean to grieve -you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You do not quite know my father," said Juliet Carr, gently; "but I -think I can arrange the matter with him so that he will willingly -receive Miss Barham for a month or two."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lady Malcolm looked at her, divining what she intended to do, and -said--"You are a good girl, Juliet; but you must not be a hypocrite -with me. Write to your father, and if you find any difficulty, let me -know. We can easily manage the matter together then. The season is now -at an end, or nearly so; I must go out of London very soon, and I can -take you both with me. Nay, do not shake your head, I am very poor I -know, but you shall bear half the expense, heiress!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"And pray, what share am Ito bear in this business?" said Morley, -laughing. "You forget, my dear Lady Malcolm, that all I desired, and -all I can consent to, is, that you and Miss Carr should kindly shield -the reputation of the whole party, by giving that protection to this -poor young lady, which I, as a man and a young man, should not be -permitted to do by this good meddling world. I must insist, that -whatever expense is incurred in the matter, may fall upon me. I know -already," he added, "how many claims there are upon this sweet lady's -bounty. I have heard of all her good doings round Yelverly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very little are they, indeed," said Juliet, with a sigh: "I wish I -could do more. Still I have enough to bear my part in this kind act -which you have devised for us, and dear Lady Malcolm will not be -satisfied without doing something, too; so you must be content, -Morley, with your fair third--and now I will go and get ready to -accompany you at once," she added, speaking to Lady Malcolm.</p> - -<p class="normal">As soon as Juliet was gone, and after a note had been despatched to -Helen Barham, at Morley's suggestion, to make her aware of the -intended visit, a fit of prudence suddenly seized upon Lady Malcolm, -which threatened to be very severe, as, to say sooth, such fits were -few and far between. Morley knew how to quiet the awakened demon, -however, and when Lady Malcolm asked him anxiously--"Now, are you -quite sure, Morley, that this girl has nothing of the impostor about -her, that she is quite the sort of person she ought to be?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perfectly certain, upon my honour," replied Morley. "Put your mind -perfectly at ease, my dear Lady Malcolm, I have not been deceived, -depend upon it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are very young in the world, Morley," said the good lady, still a -little doubtfully; "and, remember, I am going to take Juliet with me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You may, with all safety," answered Morley Ernstein. "Indeed, dear -Lady Malcolm, I wish you would, for many reasons; and, believe me, -neither you yourself, nor her very best and dearest friends, could -have such a tender regard for Juliet Carr's reputation and conduct as -I have."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, indeed!" exclaimed Lady Malcolm, with a look of satisfaction; "if -that be the case, then I am perfectly content. But you must have made -quick progress, Morley!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley saw that the good lady had put a much wider construction upon -his words than he intended, and not knowing how far her view of the -matter might spread ere long, he thought it better to limit her -imagination to the truth at once, although he certainly had no -inclination to make a confidant of his love, while it was yet so new.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, do not, my dear Lady Malcolm," he said, taking that tone of -affectionate playfulness which he often assumed towards his mother's -friend. "Now, do not tell all the world that I am Juliet Carr's -accepted lover, for such, I can assure you, is not the case, and you -may break many a heart for nothing. I do not even yet know that she is -not engaged to some other man."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a sort of cloud came over Morley's brow as he spoke the last -words, which gave Lady Malcolm an insight into what was passing in his -heart, and that advantage over him which such an insight always -affords to woman in her dealings with man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It would break your heart, Morley, would it not?" she asked, -laughing, "if such were really the case. Well, I should not -wonder--she must have plenty of lovers, and who can tell?--But never -mind! Go along, foolish boy! Were you never told when you were young -something about jesting with edged tools? Take my word for it, Morley, -it is fully as dangerous for a lover of one-and-twenty to venture a -joke in regard to his love, as for an infant to play with a -razor--especially when he speaks in the presence of a woman! You do -not at all believe that Juliet Carr is engaged, only you wish to be -made quite sure that she is not. I have a good mind to punish you for -your pride, by telling you nothing upon the subject. However, I always -spoiled you, and gave you too many sweetmeats when you were a boy; and -so I must divulge, I suppose, that I know she is not engaged--either -heart or hand. But that is not to say she will accept you, if you -propose to-morrow. Indeed, I do not think she will.--But here she -comes; so now you leave us, for we do not intend to take you with us -to see this pretty lady."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley accordingly took his leave, and Lady Malcolm proceeded with -Juliet to the house of Helen Barham. They were on foot with a servant -behind them, for Lady Malcolm, as she had said, was not rich, and did -not keep a carriage. The position of the house, its distance from the -part of the world they were accustomed to frequent, and the appearance -of several streets which they passed through to arrive at it, caused -good Lady Malcolm's heart to sink a little; and, like a cowardly -child, who has determined rashly to brave the terrors of the -churchyard by night, she was almost tempted to turn and to run away -before she reached the place itself. The greater air of -respectability, however, which the street displayed when she did -arrive at it, and the neatness of the house to which she had been -directed, revived her very much; while Juliet, unconscious of all that -had been passing in her companion's mind, looked up to the windows, -somewhat tired with a long walk through the streets of London, and -congratulated herself upon having reached the place at length.</p> - -<p class="normal">The door was opened by the usual maid-servant, who seemed somewhat -surprised to see two ladies of such an appearance, and their names -being given, she ushered them up to the drawing-room. The note, which -Lady Malcolm had sent, was on the table when that lady entered; and -beside it, Helen Barham hastily laid down a newspaper. Her eyes were -looking wild and agitated, and they fixed upon the visitor with an -enquiring look, as if her coming, notwithstanding the note, was quite -unexpected.</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet had delayed a moment in order to give Lady Malcolm, who had -lost some activity with years, time to climb the stairs, and before -the younger lady appeared, the kind-hearted widow had taken Helen by -the hand, and was saying a thousand gentle and tender things to her, -telling her how highly Sir Morley Ernstein had spoken of her, and what -an interest he had created for her, in the bosom of herself and Miss -Carr.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen was very much agitated with emotions of many kinds, and during -the few minutes that followed, those emotions increased every instant. -She had just been reading, for the first time, the account of the duel -between Morley and Neville; and the danger he had run, the wound he -had suffered and had never mentioned to her, as well as the thought -that it was in her defence that he had fought, had created in her mind -a world of apprehension and gratitude, which was well nigh -overpowering her at the moment the door of the room opened. Then, -again, the kindness of Lady Malcolm, the benevolence of her demeanour -and her tone, all moved her in another manner, so that the tears were -in her eyes when Juliet entered. Helen suddenly turned her look from -Lady Malcolm to Juliet, and those two beautiful beings stood gazing -the one at the other, as if in surprise at each other's loveliness; -but--whether it was that Helen read her fate in the exquisite and -high-souled beauty of Juliet Carr, or whether it was that, agitation -after agitation, and one emotion upon another, was more than her -overwrought mind could bear, I cannot tell--she grew gradually paler -and paler, and then sank down upon the floor, her fair head falling -back upon the sofa behind her.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XVII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">All had gone well with Morley Ernstein's plans. Lady Malcolm -and -Juliet Carr had remained with Helen Barham some time, had tended her -with care and kindness, and had entered into every arrangement with -her for the purpose of removing her speedily from the situation in -which she was placed. Each became interested in her almost as much as -Morley himself, for there was in her that quality which does more to -prepossess than even beauty itself, and which may be called -engagingness. She remained very sad indeed, during the whole of the -conversation with those two ladies; but that sadness seemed to them so -natural under the circumstances, that it produced no surprise, and -excited no suspicion, as to what might perhaps be the real cause -thereof. It was settled that she was to come to Lady Malcolm's house -the next day, and to remain there till Juliet received an answer from -her father, or till Lady Malcolm herself could execute her scheme of -quitting London for a short period.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus, then, as I have said, Morley's plans were proceeding as -prosperously as could be; but, alas! how often, and how sadly does it -happen, that the shoals and rocks of disaster lie close to the port of -success! It is strange to see how very, very frequently, at the very -moment that all seems sure to the eye of human calculation, the will -of God disappoints man's expectations, and the voice of fate -proclaims--"It shall not be!" Wisely and excellently, we know, it must -be so ordained; and human presumption certainly requires such checks, -however painful they may be.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein had heard from Lady Malcolm all that had been done; -and a sort of feeling, which he could not very well define, prevented -him from going to see Helen Barham that day. We, however, may well -enquire, though he would not, what was the nature of his sensations. -Was it that her society, with the constant consideration of sorrows, -and painful circumstances, was becoming at all wearisome to him? Not -at all. It might have been so with some men, with those who are -volatile as well as eager, the straw-fire of whose enthusiasm is -quenched as soon as lighted. But such was not the case with Morley -Ernstein. He was, as we have seen, often struggled for by two spirits, -but both spirits were powerful and resolute, and their action was to -give energy and perseverance to all he undertook.</p> - -<p class="normal">Was it that he himself, notwithstanding his love for Juliet -Carr--love, which was every moment becoming more ardent and -passionate--felt in the society of Helen Barham a charm that he would -not indulge in?--that there was a pleasure in soothing and consoling -her, a degree of excitement in sitting beside her, talking with her -over all her inmost feelings, dwelling with her upon the past, -consulting with her upon the future--a sentimental luxury, if we may -so call it, in the very tenderness of his compassion which he knew to -be dangerous, if not wrong?</p> - -<p class="normal">Perhaps it was so. There was a vague impression upon his mind that it -was something like wronging Juliet Carr to give so much of his -tenderness to another; and the higher spirit having then the power, he -resisted his inclination, and did not go. But that fact itself made -him listless.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley remained in his own room, writing and reading, and had not been -out since he left Lady Malcolm, when a note was brought up in -Lieberg's handwriting. It was to the following effect:--"My dear -Ernstein,--If you dine at home, will you let me share your dinner, for -I have something of importance to say to you." Morley instantly wrote -to beg him to come; and a few hours after, he and Lieberg were seated -together at the social meal, waiting till the servants had taken their -departure ere they approached the business which the visitor had to -speak upon.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This trout is excellent," said Lieberg; "your host shows his taste, -Morley, in giving you trout instead of sea-fish at this season of the -year. Sea-fish is intolerable at Midsummer, and especially as you -English people dress yours. Who could endure the thought of frying and -grease; or even of boiled fish and lobster sauce, cayenne pepper, and -anchovy, and all the concatenation of horrors which follow the -invariable dish of fish, at an ordinary English table? Trout or smelts -are the only things tolerable at this season of the year. I must have -had a presentiment that you would have trout to-day, when I invited -myself to dine with you. Do you give in to the doctrine of -presentiments, Morley?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"All men, I suppose, have a vague superstition of the kind in regard -to great events; but I do not think, Lieberg, that supernatural -warnings would be wasted upon a dish of trout."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I don't see why," replied Lieberg. "These little things are great to -little men; and if, as I believe, the whole universe around us swarms -with kindred spirits, only separated from us by the thin partition of -our mortal clay, interesting themselves in our happiness, and giving -us intimation of things that affect our present state, I do not see -why one of these same aërial brethren of ours should not tap at the -wainscot to tell me that there is a dish of trout, or any other little -pleasant sin, awaiting me at the house of my friend."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley smiled in spite of himself; for the knowledge that Lieberg had -come to speak to him upon some important business, and the fact of -being obliged to wait till after dinner to know what that business -was, oppressed his eager spirit, and occupied his thoughts too much -for him to relish any ordinary conversation. "I should not think," he -replied, "that they would take the trouble of knocking at all, except -upon great occasions."</p> - -<p class="normal">"True," replied Lieberg. "But men's estimation of what are great -occasions is various. Some may think death itself but a light thing, -and a bad dinner a very serious one. I do not know that I am not of -that opinion myself. I certainly know one thing--that I would rather -die a thousand times, than live on, forty or fifty years, gorging fat -pork every day, as I have seen your peasantry in Hampshire."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adam Gray, who stood behind his master's chair, and the waiter, who -was taking away Lieberg's plate, were both on the broad grin; but he -went on, with the same grave face, treating habitually the servants -who were in the room exactly as if they had no being for him, except -in so far as the moving about of various objects in the room was -concerned.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But tell me, Ernstein," he said, "now that we are talking -metaphysically, are you not a predestinarian?--but, indeed, I am sure -you are."</p> - -<p class="normal">"In truth, my dear Lieberg," replied Morley, "I think we know very -little of the matter. I believe in God's overruling providence. I -believe in his foreknowledge of all that must take place. I believe -that it is by his will or permission that it does take place; but -still I believe in man's responsibility for his own actions, and in -his perfect freedom to choose between good and evil!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"And in that of spirits, too?" demanded Lieberg, gravely.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Really, I have never considered the matter, with reference to such -personages as that," replied Morley, with a laugh. "I think it better -to mind my own business, and not to pry into their affairs. But -really, Lieberg, your mixture of moral philosophy and roast lamb, -metaphysics and mint sauce, is too German for my English -understanding."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg in turn laughed, saying--"It is not very usual table-talk, I -confess, but it was suggested to me by the subject that brought me -here to-day. One part of my creed is, that persons who are destined to -affect each other's fate, are generally brought together by a power -manifestly superior to their own will, and that--struggle against it -as much as we please--the overruling hand which is upon us links in -act with act, life with life, and circumstance with circumstance, in -such a manner as to connect two persons together in particular events -by means the most unlikely."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well!" exclaimed Morley, eagerly, and with his curiosity greatly -excited--"well, Lieberg, what then? How does this bear upon the -matter?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, I think, my dear Morley," replied Lieberg, "that you and I seem -destined by fate, though, perhaps, not by disposition, to act -together. Our first acquaintance was strange. The singular accident -that happened to you; the danger that you ran; the fit of sickness -that followed; my having a week or ten days to spare, for the purpose -of nursing you;--all gave a marked commencement to our intimacy; and -now, many other things are combining to compel us, whether we will or -not, to co-operate in matters of some moment."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" said Morley. "Can you not tell we in what respect?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not just at present," replied Lieberg. "But, to look once more to the -past, I can recollect various curious circumstances which brought -about our first meeting in the coach, and without which it could not -have taken place. It hung upon the balance of a straw, whether I -should go back to Germany in the end of April last, or whether I -should go to the south of France, when, meeting a young fisherman -accidentally at dinner, I was captivated by his account of fly-fishing -in the north, and went to bestow my idleness there. Then, again, I had -actually taken my place in the coach from York to London for the -preceding day; but a packet of letters which I expected, was delayed -for two or three hours, by some accident happening to the mail, and I -lost my place and my money rather than come away without them: -otherwise we should, in all probability, never have met."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley paused, and pondered over the past. He, too, recollected the -accidental circumstances which had prevented him from taking post -horses and coming to town in his own carriage, and he could not help -acknowledging that there was something strange in the whole affair.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was something strange--there is something strange in every mesh -of the fine network of fate, for the eye of him who examines it -curiously; and every part of every man's history, if he could trace -the connexion with other parts, would present points as curious and -interesting as those to which Morley's attention was now called. He -did not reply, however, directly to Lieberg's observations, and both -falling into a reverie for a few minutes, went on towards the -conclusion of their dinner very perseveringly. At length the dishes -were taken away, the wine set upon the table, and the room cleared. No -sooner was this done, than Morley burst forth impetuously--"Now, -Lieberg--now, what is it? I am anxious to hear."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg smiled, replying--"I see you are, Morley, and I will not keep -you in suspense a moment longer.--I did not know that this man had -such good claret--this is real La Tour.--Well, you recollect the story -you told me about your quarrel with Neville, and the wild young scamp -you wanted to save from what old ladies call 'his evil courses,' and -his pretty sister, and the whole of that business?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes," replied Morley, impatiently, "I recollect very well. What of -that?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, simply this," replied Lieberg--"I find that there is floating -about London a note, or draft or bill of exchange, or something of -that kind, for five hundred pounds, purporting to be from my hand. Now -it so happens, that being tolerably well to do in this world of -ours--that is to say, having perhaps a thousand a year more than my -habits or wishes require--I never gave such a thing to any man on earth; -and having received intimation of the fact, I caused inquiries to be -quietly made, as to the person who had taken this unpleasant liberty -with my name. I have obtained pretty good information upon the -subject, and I find that there is little or no doubt that the forger -is no other than your friend and protégé, William Barham."</p> - -<p class="normal">Few things on earth could have been more painful to Morley Ernstein at -that moment than to find that full information regarding the crime and -the criminal had reached Lieberg's ears from any other lips than his -own. I have already shown the nature of his apprehensions in respect -to his friend's future conduct; but his mind was too candid and -straightforward to shuffle or palter with the open facts in any way, -and he replied, after a very brief pause given to thought, "I am -afraid what you have heard is quite true, Lieberg. I had intimation of -the fact likewise, and intended to speak with you about it to-morrow. -I trust and hope that you will not think of proceeding against this -young man, and all I can say is, that I am quite willing to pay the -money myself, if you will consent to receive the bill without -disowning the signature."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg laughed. "Oh!" replied he, "you value the young lady's smiles -at five hundred pounds, do you, Morley? Well, if such be your -arrangements, I will do whatever I can."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley paused, and there was a strong struggle in his mind. He knew -what Lieberg suspected; and he believed that a strange view of honour, -not uncommon in the world, would both prevent his friend from -interfering in any way, if he thought that Helen Barham was likely to -become connected with him by the ties of illicit love, and would make -him consent to receive and pay the forged bill, and, in fact, enter -into all those arrangements most to be desired for her very benefit. -He was strongly tempted, it must be acknowledged, to suffer Lieberg to -remain in the belief which he evidently entertained. But the idea of a -falsehood, even implied, was so repugnant to his principles, that he -would not admit it into any part of his conduct.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are mistaken, Lieberg," he said, at length. "I still tell you, as -I told you before, that I have no such purposes towards Miss Barham as -you suppose. I wish to spare her the agony of seeing her brother die -upon the gallows. I wish to save the unfortunate lad himself, who is a -mere boy, and has been misled by others. But I tell you fairly, I have -no intention whatsoever of even attempting to injure this poor girl in -the way you mean, nor do I think there would be the least chance of -success, even if I were to try. She is a girl of good principles, of -firm character, and seems to have monopolized the whole of the high -feelings which Nature intended for her brother and herself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You will certainly not succeed," answered Lieberg, in a calm and -reasoning tone, "if you leave her any hope of your marrying her. If -her brother were hanged, or transported, or anything of that kind, the -disgrace would so strongly forbid the bans, that she would lose the -expectation, and yield to your views very readily, depend upon it. -Indeed, seriously, I think that it would be far the best arrangement -for all parties. The youth would only have one light swing between -heaven and earth, very soon over, which would relieve him from a -multitude of cares. The young lady would be placed under the -protection of a gentleman and a man of honour, one who has generously -befriended her, who would treat her well and tenderly, and provide for -her when it was necessary for them to part; instead--as will most -certainly happen, if you do not take her--instead of her falling into -the power of some other man, who may be a rascal and a scoundrel, who -may ill-treat and abuse her even while they live together, and abandon -her to the public streets when he is tired. You will place yourself in -the situation that nine young men of fortune out of ten are placed in, -with only this difference, that instead of an opera dancer, a chorus -singer, a stage soubrette, or any other mercenary woman, you will have -a companion really attached to you, and influenced by gratitude and -affection."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you know, Lieberg," exclaimed Morley, "that I have scarcely -patience to sit and listen to you! I tell you that I have no such -intentions as you suppose. I tell you that I shall never dream of -entertaining them; and that whatever may happen to the young man, Mr. -Hamilton, myself, and two or three other people, whom I have engaged -or will engage in the business, will take ample care that no -temptation--at least in the shape of poverty and exposure--shall ever -be thrown in Miss Barham's way, either to become the mistress of an -unprincipled scoundrel, or be thrown upon the public streets. Pray -speak to me no more upon such a subject, or, on my honour, I shall -think you the Devil himself."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg burst into a fit of laughter. "Well, Morley," he said, "if you -will not take the opportunity that offers, I cannot help it; but, -really, the chances in my own favour are now so great, that I, who -have not such powers of resisting temptation as you have, must yield a -little."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lieberg!" exclaimed Morley, starting up, and laying his hand upon his -arm, "you promised me--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay," replied Lieberg, "but our position is very much changed now. I -have now become a party interested, without seeking it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And will you," exclaimed Morley Ernstein--"and will you really -follow the base example of that man Neville, and trade with the -brother's blood, for the purpose of taking the sister's honour?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Sir!" exclaimed Lieberg, raising his head, and gazing at him for a -moment, with his dark eye flashing fiercely. But the next instant he -recovered himself; his brow lost its frown, his eye its fire, and he -replied, "No, Morley, no. Put that on one side altogether, and rest -satisfied that, as far as depends upon me, her brother does not die. I -do not intend to trade with her fears, whatever I may do with her -gratitude."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then you assure me he shall be saved," said Morley.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay," answered Lieberg, "I cannot promise that."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why not?" demanded his friend. "I am sure, Lieberg, you will not act -ungenerously by him. Be generous at once, and let it not be said that -you did a noble and kind act by halves. Save the youth, even though he -be criminal, and aid me also in placing him in such a situation as to -remove him from temptation to commit such acts again. Leave this poor -girl to those who will do all that is possible to raise her rather -than to sink her, to soften her present fate, and make her forget the -many sorrows that have already befallen her. Indeed, indeed, Lieberg, -she has suffered bitterly in heart and spirit, and cruel would that -man be who would open before her a path, beginning in sin, going on in -self-reproach, and ending in disappointed affection and unavailing -remorse.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well," answered Lieberg, after a moment's thought, "I promise you, -firmly and fully, as far as it is possible for me, to save this young -man. In regard to my further conduct in the business, I will make no -promises of any kind. I will be guided by circumstances, and no one -has a right to demand anything further of me. I confess I have become -interested in the girl from your account of her, and I shall certainly -like to see her; but you mistake me if you suppose that I am -deliberately planning the seduction of a woman I have never beheld. -Besides, I take it for granted, from all you have said, that she is as -much in love with you as you seem to be with her, otherwise I think -she must be a very hard-hearted sort of person. If she be in love with -you, she is, of course, not likely to fall in love with me, and the -matter will, doubtless, end as it has begun. So set your mind at ease, -for she has three strong safeguards. If I find that she loves you, I -shall stop short, for I never rival my friend; if I find that she is -coy, I shall stop short, for I love not maids that are long a wooing: -and if I find that she is in no way coy, perhaps I may not love her -the better either. So rest satisfied, my young Don Quixote."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley, however, was not satisfied, and he determined to hasten by -every means in his power the arrangements which would place Helen -Barham at a distance from a more dangerous pursuer than Neville. On -another point, too, he was not satisfied--namely, with regard to the -conditional sort of manner in which Lieberg spoke of saving William -Barham. He did not see why the promise should not be positive, and he -said, after thinking over all that had passed for a moment,</p> - -<p class="normal">"You mistake, Lieberg, in regard to my being the least in love with -Miss Barham; depend upon it, if I were, I should take a different tone -with any one who spoke lightly of her. I am not the least in love with -her, and never shall be. But, putting that aside, let me ask why you -speak of saving William Barham conditionally; of doing what you can; -of doing all that depends upon you? Why cannot you certainly save him, -by destroying at once the forged draft, or whatever it may be, if I am -willing to pay the money?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The latter part will be an easy business," replied Lieberg, "for I am -not very penurious, myself, Morley; and, though it is entirely at your -intercession I do it, yet, if I am able to save him, nobody pays the -money but myself. Why I speak conditionally is, simply because, in -this business, I have not the absolute disposal of the young man's -fate. Other people know the facts besides myself. My banker, when the -bill is presented, will see that it is not my handwriting directly. -Several of the officers of Bow-street are already aware of the -business. There is such a thing as compromising felony; I have heard, -in your law, and I can only do for him that which will not bring me -under the arm of Justice myself. Let me warn you also to be careful, -Morley, for we may get ourselves into difficulties, from which we -shall not easily be extricated."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley mused, embarrassed; he had never thought of the circumstances -that Lieberg brought at once before his view, and all he replied, for -several minutes, was,</p> - -<p class="normal">"The fact of the officers being aware of this has, I suppose, -prevented him twice from coming when he promised. He has called here -more than once at my request; but never at the hour stated."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is afraid of being taken in a trap," said Lieberg; and then -falling into thought again, he suffered Morley to pursue his -meditations uninterrupted. At length, however, he held out his hand to -his young friend, saying, "Come, Ernstein, let us act together, we -have had a little spar, but we will be friends again. You fancy me a -much greater <i>roué</i> than I am, simply because I am charitable towards -all human failings, and because I advised you to do what I judged the -best for you--what I thought, and do still think, would be no great -harm to any one. For my own part, I am a very moderate man in my -views, I can assure you--a quiet, calm, sober, steady person, who, -upon principle, never do anything <i>éclatant</i>, except when people drive -me to it by trying to pull me back. Let us consider, then, what can be -best done for this young man."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley shook his hand warmly, saying, "I believe, Lieberg, you have -the vice of making yourself appear much worse than you really are; and -I do not always feel sure whether you are not jesting with me, in -advocating things that I never see you plunge into yourself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There may be a little joke in the matter," said Lieberg, "for depend -upon it, Morley, men who have seen a great deal of the world, and have -got the ferocity of their virtue softened down, feel a little inclined -to sport with those who come upon them full of the sweets of -innocence, and thinking every peccadillo a mountain of iniquity. But -now, as I have said, let us consult what may best be done to save this -youth from the gallows which he so well merits."</p> - -<p class="normal">The consultation between them was long, and at length it was -determined, that Lieberg should use every means to get hold of the -forged document; that he should pay it, if presented, without -hesitation; that, if possible, William Barham should be brought to -confer with the two friends; that the spurious bill should be shewn to -him, and that it should be made a sine qua non of his being forgiven, -to go out immediately to the East or West Indies, where some situation -was to be found for him. Pains were also to be taken to stop all -inquiries on the part of the police, and Lieberg joined so heartily in -every part of the scheme, that he left Morley with the charm of his -influence fully re-established, and the mind of his young companion -convinced that he had done him some wrong in the suspicions he had -entertained.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XVIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">What was it carried Morley Ernstein to the door of Helen -Barham's -house at so early an hour on the following day? Was it that his -resolution had given way, and that the attraction which was about her -had prevailed, notwithstanding all the considerations which had -restrained him on the preceding day? If the angels are permitted to -look into men's hearts, and see with their eyes of light, the motives, -as well as the actions to which they lead, it must always afford a -curious and sometimes an amusing, though very often a sad speculation -to the bright beings above us.</p> - -<p class="normal">So seldom does it happen, that man cannot find a valid excuse to his -own understanding for following his own inclinations, that it is not -to be wondered at that Morley Ernstein drew out of his conversation -with Lieberg on the preceding evening, a valid excuse for visiting -Helen Barham. I do not mean to say, indeed, that he was wrong; but one -thing is certain, his inclinations led him thither, as well as his -reason, and he was not sorry that a just motive impelled him to go. -Dear reader, it was very natural, and certainly not in the least -blamable; nor does it prove in the slightest degree that his affection -wavered from Juliet Carr. She was certainly a bright, a beautiful, and -an engaging creature, that he went to see; but to Morley Ernstein, she -was the creature of his compassion, of his benevolence, of his -tenderness. "We take a withering stick," says Sterne, "and plant it in -the ground, and then we water it, because we planted it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was the case with Morley Ernstein, and now he went to do one of -the most difficult things on earth; to guard Helen Barham against -Lieberg, and yet not to assail the character of his friend. As usual, -he was admitted at once, for Helen was now rarely out; but when he -entered the drawing-room, and saw her, he could not help thinking that -there was some difference in her manner towards him--at least it -appeared so at first. There was a timidity, a shrinkingness--if we may -use the expression--a faltering of the voice, a dropping of the eye, a -want of that frank and straightforward pouring forth of excited and -grateful feelings, which had hitherto characterized the whole -demeanour of Helen Barham towards himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">It puzzled Morley Ernstein; he could not understand the change. -Perhaps the reader can; at all events he will easily do so when he is -told, that Helen had been looking into her own heart, and enquiring -what were her feelings really towards the man who now stood before -her. Her emotion at the sight of Juliet Carr had first shewn her that -there were strange things in her own bosom, and she had passed a -sleepless night, thinking of but one subject on earth--Morley -Ernstein.</p> - -<p class="normal">She gave him her hand, however--a hand which was usually as cold as -the marble from which, to judge by the colour, it was formed; but that -hand was now burning with fiery heat, and the once rosy cheek had -become much paler. As Morley felt that feverish touch, and gazed on -her face, the cause of the difference in manner he had observed, -seemed at once to display itself.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are ill, Miss Barham," he exclaimed with an eager and an anxious -look, that made Helen's heart beat fast, and her knees tremble under -her. "For Heaven's sake let me send for a physician."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no, no!" she exclaimed, "I am quite well, indeed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then what makes your hand burn so?" he demanded, still holding it in -his own, "and what makes you look so pale?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did not sleep very well last night," she said; "there had been a -good deal to agitate me during the day, and I lay awake thinking, -anxiously enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And of what were you thinking?" demanded Morley, leading her to a -sofa, and seating himself beside her. "Nay, you must tell me; for -perhaps I can relieve some of your anxiety."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen hesitated, and he added, "Nay, you must tell me; you will not -surely refuse?</p> - -<p class="normal">"Refuse!" she exclaimed; "do you think I would refuse you anything, -after all you have done for me?" She paused for a moment, but then, -seeming to take a sudden resolution, she looked up, saying, "I was -thinking of you--I only heard yesterday of your having fought that -wretched man Neville, and risked your life on my account. I pondered -upon many things, but that was one of those I thought most of during -the night; and I asked myself, what would have become of me if you had -been killed?--I think I must have died."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley felt that both Helen and himself were standing on dangerous -ground. He was half sorry that he had come at all; but, shutting his -eyes resolutely to all that he feared to see, he replied gravely, -though in the same kind tone he always used towards her, "I had not -forgotten, Miss Barham, the situation in which you were placed, and -that it might be aggravated by the very fact of an unexplained quarrel -having occurred in your house, between myself and another person; and -therefore, to guard against the worst, I wrote down my wishes to two -gentlemen who, I knew, would attend to them, and would take care that -you were shielded through life from everything like danger and -difficulty."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I know you are noble and good," she cried; "I know it, I know it -well:" and putting her hand over her eyes, she burst into tears.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley soothed her, and feeling that it would be best to change the -subject as soon as possible, he said, "Where is your brother? I was in -hopes that by coming so early, I might find him here."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen shook her head. "He has not been home all night," she replied; -"indeed, he very seldom is. Sometimes I do not see him for a week."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley mused. "I came to tell you," he said at length, "that as far as -this business of the forgery is concerned, I think you may consider -him safe. I have seen the gentleman, Colonel Lieberg, whose name was -used, and he has promised me not to proceed against your brother at -all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, that is joyful indeed!" exclaimed Helen; "then all danger is -past, and I need not become a burden to Lady Malcolm, and Miss Carr."</p> - -<p class="normal">This was certainly quite the contrary effect to that which Morley -wished to produce, and he went on to explain to his fair companion, -that all Lieberg and himself could do might perhaps be ineffectual. He -assured her, at the same time, that he looked upon it as more -necessary than ever she should be removed from the neighbourhood and -influence of her brother, and from the house in which she then dwelt, -till such time as an appointment in one of the Colonies could be -procured for William Barham, or some means could be taken to get him -out of England, and separate him from his evil companions.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley urged it upon her in various ways, and with so many arguments, -that she replied at length with a smile, though it was a sad one, "Are -you not sure that I will do anything you tell me? I should either be -very obstinate or very base, if, after all your generous kindness, I -did not follow your advice precisely. Lady Malcolm is to call for me -at one o'clock to-day, and I am quite ready to go. The only thing that -embarrasses me is, that I do not well know what to do with this house, -which my father had taken for a year. There are two or three months -still to run, and I do not like to deprive William of a home when he -chooses to have one. Yet Lady Malcolm says, I must bring the maid with -me, otherwise he will find out from her where I am."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley undertook to arrange the whole of that business for her, to see -the landlord of the house, and to have some person put in to take care -of it, as soon as she was gone. He then rose to depart, though the -chief object of his coming had not been spoken of as yet; but when he -took her hand to wish her good bye, he said, "There is one thing that -I must ask you to promise me, and to keep your promise most strictly, -without asking me why."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have but to name it," said Helen, looking up in his face timidly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is simply this," replied Morley; "and it will not be very -difficult to keep, I trust. Give me your word that, under no -circumstances whatsoever, you will mention where you are going to -before you leave this house for Lady Malcolm's, or even that you are -going away at all, till you are actually gone. I say, to no one, -meaning, not only to your own brother, but speaking generally, to no -one--not even to my dearest friend."</p> - -<p class="normal">He laid so strong an emphasis upon the last words as to make Helen -Barham give a little start, and gaze inquiringly in his face. But she. -replied, the next instant--</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will mention it to no one upon earth. I see that you have some -strong reason for what you say, but I am quite contented to be -ignorant of it, till you think fit to tell me--though, perhaps, I may -not see you again for a long while."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley understood that she did not venture to ask the question "When?" -and he replied, "I shall meet you this very night, I trust, for Lady -Malcolm has asked me to spend the evening there. Believe me, dear Miss -Barham, it will be the greatest satisfaction to me that I have ever -known, to see you there; for, under the protection of that excellent -lady, and with the acquaintance and friendship of Miss Carr, you may -set the frowns of fortune at defiance; and I trust that such sorrow--I -may say, such agony of mind, as you must have been suffering when I -saw you a few days ago, may have passed away for ever."</p> - -<p class="normal">He let go her hand as he spoke, and turned towards the door, while -Helen Barham, with her eyes gazing upon the ground, stood murmuring to -herself--"And in those few days you have done all this!"</p> - -<p class="normal">When he was gone, she pressed her hand tightly upon her brow for -several minutes, and then saying--"I must not think of it, I will not -think of it; it is foolish--it is mad--it is wrong!" she proceeded -hastily to occupy herself with other things; putting by all the -objects that she did not intend to take with her; locking up this -drawer and that; sometimes sitting down for a moment, and sketching -with her pencil some wild, fanciful head, upon a sheet of paper which -lay on the table, and then starting up again, to employ herself more -actively--struggling vehemently, in short, against feelings and -thoughts that called loudly for attention, in every pause of -occupation. She had been thus engaged for about an hour, and the clock -stood at a quarter to twelve, when there came the roll of wheels, and -a loud knock at the door.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There he is again!" exclaimed Helen, thinking it was the knock of -Morley's groom; "there he is again! How kind of him to come back!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The maid, however, was the first person who appeared, bearing a card -in her hand, upon which was written--"Lieutenant-Colonel, Count -Lieberg." The girl gave the ticket to her mistress, and informed her -that the gentleman whose name it bore was below, and begged the honour -of a few minutes' conversation with her.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, let him come up!" exclaimed Helen, gladly, recollecting that the -name was that of Morley's friend, who had so generously agreed to -spare her brother--"shew him up directly;" and she waited with eager -expectation, well pleased to have an opportunity of thanking him for -his promised forbearance.</p> - -<p class="normal">I have before described Lieberg, but still I must pause for a moment -to notice the effect his appearance produced on the mind of Helen -Barham. He came up the stairs with a quick and easy step, his whole -dress being in the height, but not the excess, of fashion, his hat, -shining like glass, held in his hand, his glossy black hair waving -lightly over his high clear forehead, his fine eyes sparkling with -that peculiar fire and lustre which rendered them so different from -the eyes of any other being, and his lips bearing a mild and pleasant -smile, while his whole air and look was that of a high-finished and -graceful gentleman. There was not a feature, there was not a line, -there was not a movement, that Helen Barham could find fault with; and -yet, strange to say, when she beheld him, though prepared to be -pleased, and ready to admire; though full of gratitude, and with a -heart tenderly alive to kindness, an unaccountable shudder came over -her the moment that her eyes rested upon him.</p> - -<p class="normal">Is it that some faculty altogether independent of and finer than -reason itself, gives us instant intimation of the presence of a being -who purposes, or is destined to work us some grievous harm? Who is -there that has not felt antipathies, for which he could find no -motive, and against which he strove in vain, till at length something -has discovered that the being thus strangely disliked was exercising -some dark influence upon our fate and happiness? Helen Barham did not -strive to reason with her feelings; she resisted and overcame the -impression, as far, at least, as her outward demeanour was concerned; -and advancing, with the grace which she always displayed, she held out -her hand at once to Count Lieberg, saying--"Sir Morley Ernstein, sir, -has told me how nobly and kindly you are disposed to behave towards my -brother. I need not assure you that I am full of deep gratitude; and -most sincerely do I pray God to reward you as you deserve."</p> - -<p class="normal">A strange dark shade came over Lieberg's countenance, but he -replied at once, pressing Helen's hand gently, but not a moment too -long--"Morley has been beforehand with me, then? I thought I should -have been early enough to convey you intelligence which I was sure -would please you, myself. However, I must not be angry with him; for -the satisfaction of giving you happiness and relief might well lead -him to steal a march upon his friend. I have a little, however, still -to tell you myself, which he cannot know of, as I have only heard the -intelligence this morning. I think, beyond all doubt, that I shall be -able to obtain possession of the draft without suffering it to fall -into the hands of any of the myrmidons of justice. In that case, all -danger will be at an end."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But if not," said Helen, with her heart sinking at the idea of there -still being so much peril--"but if not, will his fate then be sealed?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg seemed to hesitate, and taking a seat near her, he looked down -upon the floor for a moment or two, apparently in deep thought, and -then replied--"It might be difficult to save him, if we cannot get -hold of the draft ourselves, and destroy it. One would need to bribe -the officers with some enormous sum; or else I should have to refuse -to give evidence, which might place me in a dangerous position myself. -But I trust that this will not be; I trust that, ere two days more are -over, I shall have the document in my own hands. So let us not think -of such unpleasant circumstances. You must have had, I fear, a sad -time of it lately, my poor young lady. Morley's account of you and -your fate has been enough to melt a heart of stone, and, I can assure -you, it interested me not a little; so that I trust not only to be -able to relieve your mind in regard to your brother, but to do -something more for your happiness hereafter, if you will permit me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are very kind, indeed," replied Helen; "but were this once off my -mind, I think, with the friends who have unexpectedly risen up around -me, I should have nothing to desire or wish for. My hours would have -been sad, indeed," she added, "if it had not been for the comfort and -consolation which have been given me by Sir Morley Ernstein."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg smiled. "He is, indeed, very amiable," he said: and Helen -blushed, till her face and neck were all one crimson. The words that -Lieberg spoke were nothing, but it was the tone and meaning smile that -brought the bright blood up into her face. There was a slight touch of -indignation, however, in her feelings; and though her face still -glowed, she raised her head high, while she replied--"He is, indeed, -very amiable, and not alone amiable, but generous; ay, and good, too. -He is one of those who, I am sure, would never take an ungenerous -advantage of any one, not even to obtain that which he most desired in -life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are quite right," said Lieberg, seeing that the well of Helen's -feelings was all pure. "Morley's impulses are all generous and noble; -sometimes, perhaps, a little too generous for his own happiness, and -for those he wishes well to. There are occasions, my dear young lady, -when our own gratification is the means of gratifying another too, and -in those instances self-denial is unkind."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen did not understand what he meant, for she was a high-hearted, -tender being, but by no means metaphysical; and Lieberg, seeing more -deeply into her character every moment, skilfully changed the -conversation to less dangerous ground, and, in the open field, where -she was less prepared to defend herself, he put forth all those -fascinating powers which he possessed, and which were far greater than -it would be easy to do justice to. Helen listened with pleasure, and -with some surprise, and to a certain point Lieberg succeeded, for he -excited a kind of admiration; but it was the admiration of the mind, -the heart had nothing to do with it; and even had the little citadel -of Helen's bosom not been fully garrisoned, as it was, Lieberg would -have made no progress that day in attempting to storm it.</p> - -<p class="normal">There seemed, however, to be a greater impression produced upon -himself than perhaps he had anticipated. Often, in the midst of his -brilliant conversation, he bent his eyes upon the ground for some -moments, and then raised them thoughtfully to Helen's face, gazing -upon her beauty, and seeming, as it were, to drink it in, but at the -same time with a grave and meditative air, which took from it all -offence.</p> - -<p class="normal">With an art peculiar to himself, he brought up subject after subject -the most unlikely to arise from the circumstances in which he and -Helen Barham were placed, and he listened to all her replies with a -look of interest, which was not without its flattery. He was -surprised, it is true, to find her mind so richly stored. He was -pleased and struck with much that she said, and his whole manner, as -well as his words, shewed that it was so, while, at the same time, he -never gave up--though he never presumed upon it--that position of -mental superiority which he was so well calculated to maintain against -almost all men, and which, when not painfully felt, has no slight -effect upon the hearts of women. They do not always love those they -most approve, but in general they love those whom they look up to, be -it in right or wrong.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, however, as the hands of the clock approached the point of -half-past twelve, and his fair companion became somewhat penurious of -her replies, Lieberg, with quick perception, saw that his visit must -come to an end, or be tedious to her, and he knew there is nothing so -dangerous as to remain long enough to be wished away.</p> - -<p class="normal">"She is either going out to meet Morley, or she expects him here," he -thought, "and I had better take my leave at once. He will disappoint -her ere many days be over, and then it may be my task to console. Her -heart is not so far gone to him as I imagined.--I will now wish you -good-bye, Miss Barham," he said, rising, "but I hope you will not -exclude me for the future from society that, I assure you, I value -highly. You love music, I see, and I am passionately fond of it. You -like drawing too, if I may judge from that table. I am not without -some slight knowledge of that art, and I possess some of the finest -small pictures in Europe. I will not give up the hope of some day -shewing them to you. However, for the present we have other things to -think of; the first of which, of course, is your brother. I doubt not, -by this time to-morrow, I shall have good news to bear to you; I -suppose this is as good a time to find you as I could choose?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen was about to reply at once, that she would not be there on the -following day, and to inform him where he would find her; but the -promise she had made to Morley suddenly rushed to her mind. Then again -she thought, "But surely I may tell him! He has my brother's life in -his hands, and could never be meant----. But, no," she said to herself -again, "I have promised, and he shall never say that I swerved from -any promise to him, even in the least degree."</p> - -<p class="normal">The consideration of all this, and of what she should reply, together -with the consciousness that she was long ere she did answer, called -the colour into her cheek again, as she said, with an evasion that she -did not like to use,</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am very seldom, if ever, out."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg saw that she was more moved than was natural, by the simple -question that he had asked; but he himself was too much impressed by -her beauty and grace to judge with his usual acuteness of what was -passing in her mind. When he got into his cabriolet, his thoughts were -full of Helen Barham.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Beautiful, indeed!" he muttered--"Beautiful, indeed! This boy is a -fool, with his advantages!" and driving on, busy with reveries of his -own, he well nigh killed two people at the corner of Oxford-street, -and grazed one of the posts with the wheel of his vehicle.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XIX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The under-workings of the passions in the human heart, the -movements -and the progress of that central fire in the world of each man's -breast--that fire which is never guessed at by the surface, except -from some slight and often unobserved indications, or from some -violent outburst, like the eruption of a volcano--the underworkings of -the passions, I say, are generally far more worthy of the -investigation of philosophy, if we would take the trouble, are far -more replete with the tragic and the sublime, than all the external -demonstrations to which we give so much attention. When sitting in the -midst of a social circle, and often when gay looks and light jests -abound, who is there shall say, what are the feelings really within -the very bosoms that are next to us--what the passions that are -gnawing the core of the hearts that seem all merriment?--the -cankerworm of envy--the sharp tooth of hatred--the bitter grinding -jaws of disappointment--the locusts of ill-requited love eating up all -the green things of hope? Alas! Alas! too often in the world in which -we live, if we could draw back the veil from the hearts of the most -cheerful scene, there would be much weeping amongst us for the sorrows -of others, or our own!</p> - -<p class="normal">The drawing-room of Lady Malcolm was a pleasant and a cheerful room; -and--though in the midst of London--she had contrived, by manifold -flowers and shrubs, frequently renewed, to give it a certain degree of -freshness, an air and a scent of the country, which were wonderfully -refreshing to the London-tired senses at the end of a long season. In -that drawing-room, with the windows open and the warm air of a -summer's night stealing through the half-closed blinds, sat the good -lady herself, together with Juliet Carr and Helen Barham, waiting for -the arrival of Morley Ernstein. He was the only person invited, for -Lady Malcolm not only wished Helen Barham to remain as quietly as -might be in her house, but she also wished Morley and Juliet Carr to -have as much of each other's society, uninterrupted, as possible.</p> - -<p class="normal">As far as all the external circumstances of life could go, nothing -could be happier for Helen Barham than the change which had occurred, -and the situation in which she was now placed. Good Lady Malcolm was -feeling and acting towards her as a mother. That worthy lady, after -embracing Morley's proposal, as eagerly as we have seen her do, had -for a little time been puzzled by the question of how she was to treat -the person whom she had promised to protect, but she had wisely put -off the consideration of it till she had seen Miss Barham with her own -eyes. When she did see her, however, all doubt upon the matter -vanished; the engaging charm which pervaded Helen's whole demeanour, -whether in sorrow or joy, gloom or gaiety, affected instantly so very -impressible a person as Lady Malcolm; and she had come away, declaring -to Juliet as soon as she got into the street, that Helen was the -sweetest creature she had ever seen in her life, and that she should -not wonder, if properly brought out, and introduced into good society, -were she to end by marrying a Duke. She consequently at once set Helen -on a par with herself and Juliet, and treated her as her own child -from the moment she entered her house, doing everything that motherly -tenderness could do to remove any little sensation of shyness and -dependence, and to make her perfectly at home and at ease in her new -abode.</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet, though perhaps not quite so easily charmed as Lady Malcolm, -had not only felt the fascination of Helen Barham's demeanour very -strongly, but had been more deeply interested in her than Lady Malcolm -herself, entering into all her sensations--perhaps almost divining her -thoughts. On their very first interview she had watched her beauty -with a curious and attentive eye, even while occupied in recalling her -to herself after she had fainted; and when Helen recovered, Juliet -remained meditative, if not sad, for some time. There is nothing like -woman's heart for finding out woman's secrets, and Juliet--perhaps by -questioning herself as to what would have been her own feelings had -she been so situated with Morley Ernstein--in a great degree -discovered those of Helen Barham.</p> - -<p class="normal">When the conviction of what the poor girl's sentiments towards her -deliverer must be, flashed upon Juliet's mind, her sensations were -strange, and for a moment beyond all control. The first question she -asked herself was, "Does Morley love her after all?--Can he help -loving her--so beautiful, so interesting, so much to be pitied?" But -the next moment she recollected all she knew of his character, every -trait that she had remarked of his demeanour in regard to the very -matter with which her thoughts were busied; and, though she had at -first clasped her hand upon her heart to stop its insufferable -beating, she now took it away relieved, saying in her own mind--"'Tis -I whom he loves. Alas, poor Helen Barham!"</p> - -<p class="normal">For an instant, for a single instant, Juliet Carr had felt the pangs -of jealousy, but the moment after, when her feeling of security in -Morley's love returned, she reproached herself bitterly for the joy -she felt at that which must needs produce another's sorrow. The few -hours' calm reflection which intervened between their visit to the -fair object of their care, and her arrival at Lady Malcolm's house, -calmed down and quieted Juliet's feelings, and enabled her to play her -part towards Helen, when she did arrive, in the manner which might be -expected from her character. AS a sort of atonement for loving Morley -Ernstein, and being beloved by him, as well as from tenderness and -interest, and kindness towards Helen, no sister could have shewn her -more affectionate care and attention than were displayed by Juliet -Carr. She sat with her in the room which had been assigned to her near -her own; she aided her to arrange it with taste; she saw if anything -was wanting, and had it instantly supplied; she talked with her of -future prospects and bright hopes, and lavished on her all those -little acts of gentle attention, which removed every feeling of -strangeness, and made Helen feel that she had a friend upon whose -bosom she could cast herself in danger, or sorrow, or temptation if it -should come, and tell her all without fear or hesitation.</p> - -<p class="normal">That conviction was in itself a relief, a mighty relief to the poor -girl's heart; and though her mind still wandered to Morley Ernstein, -and thought dwelt, in spite of all her efforts, upon the connexion -between him and Juliet Carr, when she looked upon her lovely -companion, marked her transcendent beauty, listened to her melodious -voice, and experienced such tenderness and generous kindness, she -could not refrain, even in Juliet's presence, from looking down with a -sigh, and murmuring indistinctly with a melancholy movement of the -head, "No wonder that he loves her."</p> - -<p class="normal">The day passed over in this manner, but before night, Helen Barham was -quite familiar with the house and its inhabitants. Everything that -Lady Malcolm saw of her, led that lady to approve her conduct more and -more. Her manners were so graceful, her whole demeanour so -distinguished, that the good lady began to feel proud of her protégée, -and looking from Helen to Juliet, as she sat at dinner, she could not -help thinking, that seldom on the face of this earth, had two such -beautiful beings sat side by side.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen was sad and thoughtful during the early part of the evening, but -in consideration of those with whom she dwelt, she struggled against -the gloom that oppressed her; sought her usual occupations, and -followed her ordinary pursuits. Thus while Lady Malcolm herself fell -quietly asleep over a purse that she was netting, and Juliet busied -her fingers with embroidery, Helen went on sketching with a masterly -hand, though with the carelessness of absent thoughts, a scene from -Milton's Paradise Lost, representing the contention of the archangel -and the fiend.</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet talked to her from time to time, and then came round to view -her work. "Why, Helen!" she exclaimed, with the first impulse of -surprise, as she looked over her shoulder; "you have drawn a friend of -ours for the angel!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen looked up in her face with her large lustrous eyes, but made no -reply, and Juliet returned thoughtfully to her seat again. Helen added -several more strokes to the other figure, and then pushed it gently -across the table to her fair companion, saying, with a sad smile--</p> - -<p class="normal">"You shall have it, for you are an angel too, I think. It is like him, -I believe--though I did not intend it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet gazed for several minutes intently at the drawing, which was -beautifully, though slightly executed, and while she was still thus -employed, Sir Morley Ernstein was announced and entered the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lady Malcolm started up out of her sleep; and not a little emotion was -felt both by Helen Barham and Juliet Carr. Strange to say, however, -Juliet shewed it most. She, who had usually so much command over -herself, was now fluttered and agitated. It is true there were -sensations in her bosom towards Morley Ernstein, which produced a -thrill whenever she saw him; but in the most profound lakes the -gushing of the fountains is hidden by the depth of the waters; and -those feelings confined themselves to her heart, and did not at all -appear on the surface. In the present instance it was the presence of -Helen Barham that agitated her more than the coming of Morley -Ernstein. She sympathized with the poor girl deeply, and by a power, -which true benevolence really has, she placed herself in the situation -of her fair companion so completely, as to feel all that she felt -without losing the emotions natural to her own situation also. There -was always a great abnegation of self in the character of Juliet Carr, -and though she could not have sacrificed Morley's love for any -consideration, yet she did wish that he would now speak to Helen -first.</p> - -<p class="normal">But Morley did not do so, and would not have done so for the world, -even on Helen's own account. There had been something in her manner -that morning which he would not suffer his mind to rest upon, the -remembrance of which he had cast from him as an idle vanity, but -which, nevertheless, influenced his conduct, making him feel that it -would be better to mark at once his attachment to Juliet Carr as -strongly as possible. After speaking for a moment, then, with Lady -Malcolm, he turned to Juliet, and took her hand in his, with his face -beaming with all the affection that was in his heart. He called her by -her Christian name, too, as she had permitted him, and every look and -every tone was calculated to leave no doubt on the mind of any one, as -to what were his feelings towards her.</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet was only the more agitated; but Helen was less so than might -have been expected. The marked conduct of Morley towards Juliet Carr -did her good. She had previously made up her mind, and read her fate, -and the only thing that could have shaken her greatly at that moment, -would have been the renewal of doubt and hope. Thus, when Morley -turned towards her, and spoke to her, as he had been accustomed to do, -kindly, gently, tenderly--ay, tenderly!--for a slight inclination, -which he detected in his own breast, to make his manner towards Helen -a little less warm than it had been when they were alone together, -caused him resolutely to resist such a feeling as dishonourable to -her, to Juliet, and to himself--when he spoke to her, then, kindly, -gently, and tenderly--as if, in short, he were a brother--she received -him, not without emotion, indeed, but with a much greater appearance -of calmness than she had previously hoped to obtain.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley congratulated her upon her change of abode, and upon the -friendship of Lady Malcolm; for it was a part of his plan, and, -indeed, was only consistent with his impetuous character, to go -straightforward to every difficult or unpleasant point, and never to -be satisfied till all was said that it might be necessary to say. Many -people do great things by avoiding difficulties, but bolder minds love -the task of overcoming them. He spoke at once, therefore, of the -change which had taken place in Helen's situation, though he knew it -might awaken unpleasant thoughts, feeling that as much must be -referred to, and even discussed at different periods, concerning her -past and her future fate, it would be better to touch upon the subject -immediately, lest every hour of reserve should render it more -difficult. He then added, in a rather lower voice--</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have seen your brother, my dear Miss Barham, and we are to meet -again to-morrow; when I hope all things will be settled to your -satisfaction. In the meantime, I need not ask if you are comfortable -and happy with these friends, for I know Lady Malcolm is all kindness, -especially where she meets with undeserved sorrow. I think, too," he -added, turning his eyes to Juliet, "that we might very well trust the -happiness of any one to Miss Carr's tenderness."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We have done what we could to soothe her, Morley," replied Juliet -Carr, "but it is not to be expected that Miss Barham should yet be -quite as cheerful as we will hope to see her. She can amuse herself, -however, even now, and at the same time gratify her friends--Look -here!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Helen, trying to prevent Juliet from shewing -the drawing; but ere she could stop her, it was in Morley's hand--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed, as soon as he had cast his eyes upon it, -"Why this is Lieberg!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Helen again, "I did not mean it for anybody. -Indeed, I never thought of what I was drawing!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But this cannot have been by accident, surely," said Morley; "the -likeness is so striking. Did you ever see Count Lieberg, Miss Barham?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I saw him this morning," replied Helen, at once. "He called upon -me--not long before Lady Malcolm came--to tell me, what you had told -me before regarding my brother."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And did he do anything to offend you?" asked Morley, looking at the -drawing with a smile, as he marked the character in which she had -depicted Lieberg.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no!" replied Helen, "nothing; on the contrary, he was as kind as -he could be; but I can assure you I meant nothing by that drawing, and -had not an idea that I was sketching any one, till Miss Carr remarked -one likeness; and now you have remarked another. If there be any, it -is purely accidental, though, perhaps, without thinking of it, one -naturally takes the features which one has lately seen, as I have -remarked after reading a book, the thoughts come back to us as if they -were our own. Will you give it to me," and taking it out of Morley's -hand, she added, speaking to Juliet--"You must let me tear it, and I -will draw you another.--You shall have the angel as before," she said, -with a sad smile, and an earnest look into Juliet's eyes, "but I must -change the face of the fiend; as it seems that I most unintentionally -took that of one who has shewn himself anything but unkind to me and -mine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Tear it--tear it, Helen!" said Juliet "I am sure you did not mean to -give the portrait of any one in such a character."</p> - -<p class="normal">"On my word I did not," replied Helen, and then, after putting her -hand to her brow for an instant, she added--"Come, dear Miss Carr, to -make up for destroying the drawing I gave you, if Sir Morley Ernstein -will sit down on the sofa and talk to you, I will take his portrait. I -am sure you will be glad to have it, for you said you had known him -long. I can sketch very quickly, and I once thought of trying to make -my bread by portrait-painting. But I took fright at the thought of all -the people that might come to me, and gave up the idea."</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet Carr blushed at the proposal, partly with feelings of pleasure, -but partly abashed; for the remembrance that Morley had not yet said -one word which could justify her, or any one, in looking upon his -attachment to her as certain, was still present to her mind. She -answered not, then, but Lady Malcolm replied for her, eagerly--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do--pray do, my dear child--and then you shall copy it for me."</p> - -<p class="normal">At the same time Morley took his seat upon the sofa by the side of -Juliet Carr; Lady Malcolm rang for tea; and Helen, while she pursued -her work, joined in the conversation, not only frequently, but gaily, -as if the object on which she was employed had given her back her -cheerfulness. Once, when Juliet was about to rise she exclaimed, -quickly--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Sit still--pray sit still--he will not remain in the same attitude if -you move!" and, about ten minutes after, she beckoned to Lady Malcolm, -asking her, "Will that do?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, beautiful, beautiful!" exclaimed Lady Malcolm--"that is quite -perfect!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not yet," said Helen, and she added some touches more.</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet became impatient to see the sketch likewise, and, starting up -playfully, she said--"I will be excluded no longer, Helen."</p> - -<p class="normal">When she came round, however, her cheek took the colour of a rose. It -was not alone Morley's portrait, but her own likewise, that Helen -Barham had drawn; and, with a skill that nothing but intense feeling -could have taught her, she had cast into the looks of both, as they -seemed gazing upon each other, that expression of deep affection which -she was but too sure was in their hearts.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley followed Juliet to Helen's side, almost at once, and gazing -upon the picture, he first smiled with pleasure; but, the next -instant, a thoughtful expression came over his countenance, and he -looked down upon the beautiful head of Helen Barham--as she bent over -it, resting her cheek upon her hand--with sensations that it would be -difficult to describe. He asked himself hurriedly, what had been -really her feelings? and then he would not suffer his heart to answer -the question. He voluntarily suffered his ideas to remain confused; -but in their vagueness was mingled not only much apprehension, lest -there should be those things in the bosom of Helen which might affect -her after-peace, but pity for her in every way, and a certain portion, -if not of unmerited self-reproach, at least of regret, that it had not -been possible for him to protect and support her from the beginning, -through the medium of others.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen, however, seemed pleased with her work, she forced herself to be -cheerful, and the evening passed over apparently brightly for all. The -conversation, which had been diverted, for the time, from the subject -of Count Lieberg's visit, returned to it ere long, and Helen -recapitulated, in her own artless manner, all that had passed. At -length she came to speak of his question in regard to calling upon her -the following day, and she added--</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was quite sure that I might tell him I was coming hither--"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley started, with a feeling of apprehension, but Helen instantly -added--"However, as you had told me I was not to mention the fact to -any one, I refrained, and merely said that I was seldom out, knowing -that you could inform him of what you thought fit, afterwards."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You did quite right, dear Miss Barham," replied Morley--"you did -perfectly right. I entreated you to tell no one, and if I had wished -any exception made, I would have said so."</p> - -<p class="normal">Both Helen and Juliet gazed at Morley with some surprise; but Lady -Malcolm instantly read a comment upon her young friend's reply, -saying--"He is too gay a personage, Helen--this Count Lieberg--to be a -very safe intimate for you. Not that I mean, my dear child, he would -or could do you any harm; nor do I know, indeed, of any harm that he -ever did do; but some men establish for themselves, by tolerating all -vices, and associating intimately with persons of dissolute habits, -the reputation of licentiousness, even when they do not deserve it. -Now, I never in all my life heard the least harm of this Count -Lieberg. I never saw his name in the papers, or anything of that kind; -but, at the same time, he is a great deal with people who are -notorious for dissipated habits, and consequently he is looked upon as -one of the same class, though, perhaps, the best of the class. -Nevertheless, Morley was quite right, Helen; there is no need at all -of his knowing where you are, and, to say the truth, I think it better -he should not."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley said nothing, but he was not a little obliged to Lady Malcolm -for saving him the pain of an explanation; and, shortly after, he took -his leave, promising to return the following day, and let Helen know -what was the result of his second conference with her brother.</p> - -<p class="normal">As soon as he was gone, Helen rose to retire to her room. A slight -degree of paleness had come over her face, a look of exhaustion, which -Juliet remarked, and very well understood. She came round, then, to -where Helen stood, and putting her arm gently round her, she kissed -her cheek, saying, in a low voice--"I think, Helen, you are more of an -angel than any of us."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen pressed her hand gently in hers; and though not a word more was -spoken on either part, each felt that she understood the other; and -Helen Barham, with swimming eyes, retired to her chamber, and wept -with very mingled feelings.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The interview between Morley Ernstein and William Barham was -to take -place at the hotel in Berkeley-square; and Morley had written to -Lieberg, giving him notice that the young man would be there, and -begging him, if possible, to meet him, as the draft was to be -presented on the ensuing day, so that no time ought to be lost. -Lieberg breakfasted an hour earlier than usual, but it was not with -the object of being in time for the proposed meeting, as mid-day was -the hour appointed; and as soon as he had done breakfast, he got into -his cabriolet to drive to the house of Helen Barham.</p> - -<p class="normal">When he reached the house, he got out and knocked himself, and his -keen and marking eye at once perceived that it was not Helen's -neat-looking maid who opened the door, but, on the contrary, a person -bearing the look, which is very peculiar, of people that are put in to -keep houses, which would otherwise be vacant.</p> - -<p class="normal">In reply to his demand for Miss Barham, the woman said, in a short, -quick tone--"She's not here, sir--she's gone."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pray, where is she gone to?" demanded Lieberg, in a quiet tone, as if -the tidings did not surprise him in the least.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can't tell, sir," answered the woman. "Two ladies called for her, -and took her away with them, but I don't know where, nor who they -were."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ladies!" said Lieberg, with some emphasis; but the other replied -immediately, with a toss of her head--"Yes, ladies, every inch of -them; that I'll answer for; and so is she, too, poor thing, though she -is not so rich as some; but as for their being ladies, the servant -called his mistress 'My Lady' twice--that's all I know."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And pray, who put you in here, to take care of the house?" said -Lieberg.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, the landlord, to be sure," replied the woman; "and he bade me, -too, take great care of all Miss Barham's things, and to dust all -that's in the drawing-room every day."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So, then," said Lieberg, "Miss Barham has left some things behind -her?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, yes, a great many," replied the woman, who seemed not to be in -the most respondent humour in the world; "but really, sir, I cannot -stay answering questions all day. I have told you everything I know -about the young lady, and that is little enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is so," replied Lieberg; and getting into his vehicle, without -farther comment, he drove away.</p> - -<p class="normal">As he was still a full hour and a half before his time, he sought for -occupation, and to all appearance gave not a second thought to Helen -Barham's place of residence. It was not so, however, in reality; and -as he drove away, he repeated twice--"This is Ernstein's doing!" But -he had now regained all that self-possession which Helen's beauty had -for a time disturbed; and when--after attending a sale of pictures and -bronzes, at Phillipps's Rooms, for about an hour--he proceeded to -visit Morley Ernstein, his look was as calm and cheerful, his manner -as unembarrassed and graceful, as ever. Not one word passed his lips -in regard to his visit of that morning to the house of Helen Barham, -though there was some meaning in the smile with which he shook hands -with Morley on their meeting. To the call he had made on the preceding -day, however, he referred at once, saying--"Well, Morley, I have seen -this fair object of your benevolence, and must confess that her -beauty, her grace, and her talent too, far exceed what I had expected. -I cannot help thinking you a great fool, begging your pardon for so -saying; but I suppose we shall never think alike upon these matters, -and I shall give up attempting to convert you to my doctrines, for -every man must seek happiness in his own way; and I do not see why a -man's prejudices should not be considered as a part of his property -which it is felony to rob him of, as well as anything else."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, Lieberg," replied Morley, "prejudices, I should think, would be -a sort of property of which, like paving-stones in a man's pocket, it -would be kind to free him as soon as possible. But I rather think the -dispute between you and me would be, as to which of my views are -prejudices--which are principles. I do not mean to claim any -outrageous morality, but in what I am doing now, I am quite sure I am -right."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I hope you are equally sure that you will be successful," replied -Lieberg; "for my part, I think I shall soon leave the matter in your -hands altogether, for I have some intention, ere the earth, and all it -bears about with it, be a month older, of setting out for the -Continent, and taking, what the people who travel and write books, -call 'an autumn tour,' somewhere."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, I thought," said Morley, "that you were going down to the house -of Lord Medway for the season?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He invited me," answered Lieberg; "but I am not in a humour this -year, either for stalking after partridges through a turnip-field, or -for the beastly butchery of a battue. The last time I was at one, I -felt myself like the dog that the man shewed about London some time -ago--'Billy,' you know, that killed a hundred rats in a minute--and I -determined never to go to such barn-door slaughter again. But here -comes this good youth, I suppose," he added, seeing the door open; "do -not tell him at first. We may see some of the workings of the -passions, which is better sport than a battue."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley thought that it was as cruel sport, too; but the waiter -announcing that a gentleman desired to speak with him, he directed him -to be shewn in, and the moment after William Barham, with his pale, -dissolute countenance, and his long light hair straggling as usual -over his face, entered the room, but stopped suddenly short, on -beholding Lieberg.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good morning, Mr. Barham," said Morley; "this gentleman is a friend -of mine, who has promised me to do what he can to assist you. Take a -seat, and let us talk over this affair."</p> - -<p class="normal">"William Barham glanced first at Morley, and then at Lieberg, and then -at the door, as if he would fain have made his escape; but finding -that impossible, he sat down, and looked doggedly at the table. Morley -turned to Lieberg, as if to ask him to begin the discussion; but -certainly Lieberg did it in a way that Morley the least expected and -approved.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I find, Mr. Barham," he said, fixing his dark, piercing, intelligent -eyes upon him, with a gaze that seemed to look into his very heart--"I -find that you have committed a forgery, and are likely to be hanged."</p> - -<p class="normal">William Barham started up from his seat, and stared at Lieberg and -Morley with eyes full of the wild, wandering expression of terror.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have it from the best authority," said Lieberg, still bending upon -him the same eagle glance. "Cousins, the Bow-street officer, who is -watching for you, told me the whole story."</p> - -<p class="normal">The lad sank down in the chair again, clasped his hands over his eyes, -and sobbed aloud. Still Lieberg held him under his dark, firm gaze, -and Morley, puzzled and surprised, did not know well whether to -interfere, and endeavour to assuage the unnecessary suffering which -his companion was inflicting upon the unhappy young man, or not. A -pause of more than a minute ensued, and even a short pause, under such -circumstances, is long. Perhaps Lieberg himself was in doubt how he -should proceed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is it not so?" he said, at length; and then, as the boy sat silent, -he turned his eyes towards Morley Ernstein with a strange expression, -which Morley did not well understand. There was a degree of unsated -fierceness in it, and yet it seemed to ask--"Shall I rack him -farther?--Will you abhor me, and interpose, if I do?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley made a gesture, as if supplicating him to forbear, and in an -instant the whole expression of Lieberg's countenance changed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hark, young man!" he continued, speaking to young Barham, in a milder -tone--"Do you know who I am?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, sir," replied the unhappy youth; "I never saw you before, that I -know of."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And yet you have used my name for five hundred pounds!" said Lieberg.</p> - -<p class="normal">The lad instantly sprang off his seat, and cast himself upon his knees -at Lieberg's feet, exclaiming--"Forgive me--oh, forgive me!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will forgive you," replied Lieberg, "upon one condition, which -is, that you at once quit this country, and go to one of the -Colonies--whichever I and my friend, Sir Morley Ernstein, may -determine. You shall be furnished with money for your passage."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But how shall I live when I am there?" exclaimed the youth. "I can -but do as I have done here, and get into trouble again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is no fear of that," interposed Morley; "some place or some -occupation shall be found for you, which will put you above want, and -if you behave well, means will be taken to procure your advancement."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Besides," said Lieberg, "your sister will in all probability be able -to do something for you. At all events, I and my friend, Sir Morley -Ernstein, pledge ourselves that you shall be taken care of, if you -conduct yourself properly. I must have no hesitation--this is your -only chance of escaping the gallows, so choose quickly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I have chosen--I have chosen!" cried the young man, at once. "It -would, of course, be far better for me to go and take my chance there, -than stay here, and be hanged to a certainty."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is according to taste," answered Lieberg, who could not refrain -from one of his bitter jests, even at that terrible moment; "however, -if such be your opinion, come to me to-morrow at this same hour, and I -will shew you the note you drew, paid by my banker."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But," said the boy, gazing earnestly in his face, as if to discover -what was passing in Lieberg's inmost thoughts, yet with a look of -cunning fear also, both lest he should offend and lest he should be -deceived: "but--but--suppose you should change your mind!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"And hang you after ail!" rejoined Lieberg, with a contemptuous sneer: -"it would be a very pleasant trick, young gentleman, for any of your -present friends--such as Neville and others. But be so good as to -recollect, that I have nothing to gain by hanging you: were I a -surgeon, there might be some object, for I dare say you would make a -very good subject for the anatomist's knife; but I am not a surgeon. -Moreover, remember that if I wanted to send you to the gallows, I -should have nothing to do this moment but to put my hand on your -collar, call in the waiter, and send for an officer."</p> - -<p class="normal">He took a step forward as he spoke, and the boy, in an agony of -terror, started back, and looked behind him, as if he expected to see -the whole array of Bow-street at the other side of the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now mark me, my good youth," said Lieberg, "and answer me -straightforwardly; will you, or will you not come, as I have directed -you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will, upon my honour, sir," replied the boy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your honour!" exclaimed Lieberg; "but I have got a better hold upon -you than your honour. Mark me, my good sir, if you do not come -precisely to the minute, you will find yourself at the new drop before -a month be over. The sessions are coming on, and we will make short -work with you, for I will not be trifled with. Do not suppose, either, -that you can escape, for you ought to know well enough, that every -movement you make is known, and I could have taken you out of your bed -last night, if I had thought right, for I knew quite well where you -were."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where?" exclaimed the youth, with a shrewd look; "where?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where you should not have been," replied Lieberg, sternly; "not many -yards from ---- street, in the Strand."</p> - -<p class="normal">The colour that comes up from agitation, not from shame--for alas, he -was past that point--rose in the boy's countenance, and he only -replied, "I will come--indeed I will."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein had perceived from the first that Lieberg wished to -conduct the whole business with William Barham himself, and although -he might feel a suspicion, of which he was at the same time ashamed, -regarding his companion's motives; yet he felt not only that he had no -right, but also that it would be imprudent to interfere in a matter -which entirely depended upon Lieberg himself. He had therefore -abstained, as far as possible, from saying anything, but he now added -a caution, which was totally independent of his friend's proceedings.</p> - -<p class="normal">"If you will take my advice," he said, speaking to William Barham, -"you will, in the meantime, that is to say, before you go to Colonel -Lieberg's, avoid all your recent companions; and going home at once, -remain quietly, without setting your foot beyond the doors till -to-morrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">Remarking that the boy hesitated, and answered nothing, and knowing -what a hold evil habits have upon the mind, Morley resolved to try -what fear would do, and for that purpose to make use of the -information he had gained from Higgins. "I advise you alone for your -own good," he said, "and to prevent you from missing the only chance -of safety. You know quite well, that there are a number of other -people engaged in this affair. Now those scoundrels will be glad -enough to keep you here, in order to get your neck into the noose, -instead of their own."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will peach against them all, if they do!" replied the youth, -vehemently.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That will not save you," replied Morley; "you are a principal, they -are only accessories."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will not go near any of them," exclaimed the boy suddenly--"I will -not go near any of them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, keep your resolution," rejoined Morley, "and you will do -well. I pledge myself for your safety, as well as Colonel Lieberg, if -you go to him to-morrow; but if you fail, I tell you as he has done, I -abandon you from that moment, and will take no farther interest in -you. Do you know where he lives?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man replied in the affirmative, and took up his hat as if to -depart, but then looked hesitatingly, first at Morley, and then at -Lieberg, and then at Morley again. At length, however, he said, -addressing the latter--"But I wanted to speak with you, Sir -Morley--can't I have a word with you for a minute?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley caught the quick eye of Lieberg glancing from the boy's face to -his, and he replied at once: "If what you want to say refers to this -business, it must be said to Colonel Lieberg, not to me, for upon him -alone does your fate depend--or, at least, it must be said in his -presence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is not about that at all," answered the youth; "it is something -which nobody has anything to do with, but you and I."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let him speak with you--let him speak with you, Morley," said -Lieberg; "I am going to make a call on the other side of the square, -and will be back with you again in ten minutes."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he left the room, and, the young man, after gazing in -Morley's face for a few moments, demanded, abruptly--"Pray, where is -my sister, sir?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your sister is quite safe," replied Morley, in a calm tone, "and -under the protection of those who will take care that no harm happens -to her."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is to say, under yours, I suppose," said William Barham, looking -at him with a keen and eager glance; "but I'll tell you what, sir, if -such is the case, I think I have a right to ask, that you should -settle something upon her, that she may not come to poverty too."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley grew angry. "You young scoundrel!" he said, "I have a great -inclination to take you up, and throw you out of that window into the -square. You have a right to ask, indeed! You, who would have sold your -sister to a low and vagabond swindler--you, now to talk of having any -right to meddle in her affairs!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are wrong, sir," said the young man, boldly, and with a more -straightforward tone than Morley had seen him yet assume; "you are -wrong, sir; I would not have sold my sister. I would not have taken a -penny for myself. Now that the truth must come out, I will tell you -how it was--a man will do many things to save his life--what is there -that he wont do, indeed?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nothing dishonourable, if he be not a coward," answered Morley.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Coward, or no coward!" rejoined the young man--"coward, or no coward, -no man likes the gallows, and it was to save myself from that, that I -did what I did; besides, I saw that, some day or another, she would -not have bread to eat. She has been forced to sell almost everything, -even now. Neville offered to settle five hundred a-year upon her, if I -would consent, and to hang me if I didn't. So I had no choice; but I -would not have taken a farthing from him myself, for all the world."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are not quite so bad as I thought you," replied Morley; "but, -nevertheless, you are an atrocious scoundrel, and not a bit better for -being a coward too. In regard to your sister, however, if you have -really any feeling for her--and I can hardly think that such is the -case with one who would prey upon her in the way that you have -done--make your mind easy; she is no farther under my protection, than -that I will see she is not subjected either to insult or annoyance. -She is with two ladies who have taken an interest in her; one, a lady -of high rank, and one, a young lady who is very dear to me. They will -provide for and take care of her; but, as to your present demand, I -should be wronging her and myself both, were I to do anything which, -even in the eyes of the world, might cause it to be supposed there -exists any other connexion between myself and her, than interest in -her fate, and sorrow for her misfortunes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I suppose--" said the young man; but Morley stopped him at once.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is nothing more, sir, to be said upon the subject," he -exclaimed. "I am very likely to be made angry in this matter; and, -therefore, the less you speak, or suppose, the better."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was only going to say," replied the young man, "that I suppose, of -course, as you know where she is, you'll have no objection to my -seeing her."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I certainly do know where she is," answered Morley; "but you will -easily understand that, as she removed from her own house for the -purpose of keeping at a distance from the influence you had so -misused, and from the insulting solicitations which you had permitted -and encouraged, there is not the slightest chance of your being -permitted to see her. It was from yourself and your acquaintances that -she fled; and, therefore, you will know nothing farther about her than -you do know now, till you embark on board a vessel for one of the -colonies. Your sister's address will then be furnished to you; you can -write to her, if your wishes prompt you to do so, and she will answer -you, informing you of her own situation, hopes, and prospects. This is -all I have to say upon the subject, and you must expect nothing more."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man frowned upon him fiercely as he spoke; and after looking -at him with a bitter and a disappointed glance, for a moment or two, -he said--"God give you as hard a measure!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I hope he may give me just the same," replied Morley; "for I can call -him to witness that I am acting as I judge best for the happiness both -of yourself and her."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay," said the young man, thoughtfully, "I may, some time or another, -have the means of paying you this;" and without more ado, he quitted -the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is a determined young villain!" was Morley's comment, as Helen's -brother left him. "How strange it is that we sometimes see the gifts, -both of mind and person, so unequally apportioned in the same family! -Beauty, and talent, and virtue in one member of it, and vice, -stupidity, and deformity in another. Who, even in look, would take -that youth for Helen's brother?"</p> - -<p class="normal">He had not long to consider the matter farther, for Lieberg soon came -back, full of schemes of pleasure and amusement. He had a thousand -things for Morley to see; he had a thousand things for Morley to do; -and it was with difficulty that his friend, upon the excuse of other -business, freed himself from him for an hour or two, in order that he -might, as he had promised, convey to Helen Barham tidings of what had -passed in regard to her brother. Perhaps it might have been a truer -way of putting the matter, if we had said: in order to avail himself -of the excuse he had made for visiting Juliet Carr. He promised, -however, to join Lieberg in the park within two hours, and, certainly, -those two hours were amongst the sweetest that ever he knew in life. -He found Juliet Carr sitting with Lady Malcolm; Helen was in her own -room; and after the elder lady had remained some short time, she rose, -discreetly saying that she would send Miss Barham to hear what tidings -he had brought. Juliet begged Lady Malcolm to let her go; and, I -believe, that if one could have seen into her bosom, her heart would -have been found beating terribly as she made the proposal. Lady -Malcolm, however, replied--"I am going up for another pair of gloves, -Juliet, and therefore I will tell her as I go."</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet and Morley were left alone. Strange to say, however, they both -remained silent for several minutes. There was much that Morley -desired to say, but yet the thought that Helen might come down every -moment made him pause and hesitate, and lose even the time that he -had. Juliet, on her part, divined something of what was passing in his -breast, and she was afraid of speaking first, for she knew, whatever -topic she chose, her voice would tremble so as to shew that her -thoughts were busy with agitating subjects.</p> - -<p class="normal">I do believe that seldom, if ever, has a declaration of love been made -in this world without being managed in the most awkward way that it is -possible to conceive. Indeed, though it may seem a contradiction in -terms to say that imperfection is a part of perfection, yet I do -believe that awkwardness is necessary to a proper declaration; for it -is scarcely possible to believe two persons to be very much in love -with each other, without being greatly agitated at that moment, and, -consequently, not sufficiently master of their own thoughts to act -with calmness and propriety.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley, however, at length discovered that the pause must not last any -longer; and, as it was quite out of the question at that moment to -talk of any indifferent subject, he went round the table, seated -himself on the sofa by the side of Juliet, took her right hand, which -lay idle in her lap, and pressing his lips upon it, added the small -word "Juliet."</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet answered nothing, but sat with her beautiful eyes bent down, -the colour glowing in her cheeks, her lip quivering, her bosom -panting. Morley was beloved, and he felt it. "Juliet," he -repeated--"Juliet, dear girl, after what I see, need I ask you any -questions?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no, no!" murmured Juliet, turning her head slowly round, still -bent so that he could scarcely see her glowing face for the rich hair -that clustered over it; and, leaning her forehead and her eyes upon -his shoulder, she repeated--"oh, no, no!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The doors of Lady Malcolm's house were such as doors should always be, -and opened noiselessly. Juliet's face was hid upon Morley's -shoulder--her hand was clasped in his--his eyes were bent in -tenderness upon her--his arm was thrown around her--when the door -opened without their seeing it--closed again softly the moment after; -and they remained alone for near an hour.</p> - -<p class="normal">Alas! poor Helen Barham!</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">William Barham was punctual to his hour; but Lieberg made him -wait for -fully twenty minutes in an empty room, looking out into the dull back -court of a London house, where there was nothing to amuse his mind -within the chamber or without: not a picture, not a print upon the -walls: not the sight of a chimney, the smoke of which would have given -occupation to the eye: not an odd-looking table, with carved legs: not -anything, in short, on which the energies of the spirit could spend -themselves. The very carpet was in long straight lines of monotonous -colours, and the walls were painted of a blank greyish hue.</p> - -<p class="normal">The mind, when surrounded by dulness from which it cannot escape, is -like the scorpion when hemmed in by fire, and turns to sting itself. -That room seemed the very abode of gloom and despondency. The windows -were dusty, and admitted but little light; they were not as regularly -opened as they ought to have been, and there was a closeness in the -atmosphere, a smell of desolation, if we may so call it, which made -one feel faint. The grate looked somewhat rusty from neglect, and -there were no fire-irons.</p> - -<p class="normal">William Barham first walked to a window, and looked out, but nothing -met his eye, except the tall, unpleasant, dingy brick wall of an -opposite house, without a single casement looking that way. He then -turned, and gazed round the room. It was all cheerless and dull. His -eye found nothing on which it could rest. It was empty and gloomy as a -heart that has been bereaved of the object of its love. He tried the -window again, and then let his eye run over the walls of the room; but -all was dark and sad. There was not even a Greek border on the broad -expanse of dull, grey painted stucco, with which the mind might form a -labyrinth for thought to lose herself withal. He walked up and down -for a moment or two, and then cast himself down upon a chair, and his -fancy gave itself up to that which was most painful--his own fate and -circumstances.</p> - -<p class="normal">Did Lieberg do it on purpose? Who can say? There are few men who know -human nature better than he did. There are few who could more -correctly appreciate the effect of solitary thought, with gloomy -adjuncts, upon a mind loaded with crime, and weakened by vice and -intemperance. None, then, could judge better what would be that effect -upon William Barham, and yet he had ordered him, with particular care, -to be placed in that room, which he himself had never entered above -once or twice since he had hired those apartments; and yet while the -youth remained there, Lieberg was not occupied with any important -affair. He was trifling with some objects of art; writing a note or -two in answer to invitations; doing a thousand things, in short, that -might have been done at any other time. It seemed, certainly, that he -calculated upon producing a particular effect upon the mind of the -unhappy boy who was in his power.</p> - -<p class="normal">William Barham's eye, in the meantime, strained upon the floor. It -grew more and more anxious in expression, its gaze more and more -intense. He looked as if horror-struck with some object on which his -eyes fell upon the carpet--but the unhappy boy saw nothing before him -but his own fate. Remorse, if not repentance, visited his heart! He -thought of all that he had done, of all that he might have done; he -saw that, by his own folly, and by his own crimes, at the best he had -driven himself from his native land, and had, but for an accident, -condemned himself to death, to an ignominious and terrible death. He -had lost all the advantages of a fair education, an honourable -teaching, and of a good example. He had voluntarily chosen evil when -good was within his grasp, and now the consequences had fallen upon -his head, without any place of shelter, any hope, any refuge, except -in the mercy of a man who had shewn him some harshness, and whose -objects he was strongly inclined to doubt. He had come thither with a -palpitating heart, and he remained in agitation and distress.</p> - -<p class="normal">Minute after minute went by, and each one seemed an age, till at -length he began to think--"Is this man deceiving me?--Perhaps he is -playing me false!--Perhaps even now he has sent for the officers of -justice to seize their prey!"</p> - -<p class="normal">He started up and approached the door, intending to steal out if he -found no one, and to say that he could not wait any longer, if he met -with any of the servants in the passage. There was a footman within a -few yards, however, and when he had repeated that which he had made up -his mind to speak, the man answered, with the cold sauciness of a -London lackey,--"My master said you were to wait for him, and so you -must wait, if you please."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man stood directly in the way, and William Barham, re-entered the -room, with a sinking heart. His thoughts, hurried and confused, first -turned to flight, but flight, he soon saw, was impossible. The window -was high--there was a fall of five-and-twenty feet, or more, into the -area below. His next thought was, what else could give him safety? -Where was there any other hope? "This man must want something," -he thought. "He must have some object, some purpose, some end to -answer!--What can it be?--I will do anything, everything, if he will -but spare my life."</p> - -<p class="normal">It was at that moment that Lieberg, as if he had calculated it by a -watch, sent to call the unfortunate William Barham to his presence; -and when the youth appeared, he questioned him sternly and steadily, -as to the whole transaction of the forgery, writing down his replies. -Had William Barham been an old and wily offender, he might have -refused to plead in this illegitimate sort of court; but fear now -superseded everything: even natural cunning gave way before it, and he -told all, though he saw Lieberg taking notes of each word he spoke.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now," asked the interrogator, when he had finished, "will you sign -that?" and he put the paper before him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But will you promise me safety?" said the boy, torn by terrors of -several kinds, and gazing upon the countenance of Lieberg with eyes -that seemed as if they would start from their sockets--"will you -promise me safety?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes," answered Lieberg, "I will promise you--but on one condition, -that you will help me with your whole heart and mind in something that -I desire to accomplish."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, that I will!" exclaimed the youth, "in anything that you like."</p> - -<p class="normal">"In <i>anything?</i>" said Lieberg, with emphasis, and at the same time -holding up his finger, to mark more particularly, that he had some -especial object.</p> - -<p class="normal">The blood rose slightly in William Barham's cheek, but the game was -for life and death, and he had made up his mind. "Yes," he replied, -nodding his bead significantly; "perhaps I understand what you mean. -But I say, I will help you in anything you like."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is right," answered Lieberg, "that is quite right; and if you do -help me, instead of death, or exile, and poverty, and privation, and -gnawing want, you shall have comfort, and respectability, and -affluence, in your own land."</p> - -<p class="normal">The youth's eyes sparkled, and Lieberg went on, "Attach yourself to my -fortunes," he continued, "and you are safe. I tell you fairly, all I -wish you to sign this paper for, is, that I may have such a hold upon -you, that neither any of those rascally companions whom you have -unfortunately met with, nor any of the whining Methodists and -hypocrites who are scarcely better than the others, may ever persuade -you to play me false in this matter. Mark me! It is not any knavery on -your part that I fear, it is weakness; but I think you know me well -enough, to be sure that I will hang you, as certain as I live, if you -fail me----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But will you certainly spare me, if I do not?" cried the youth. "Will -you write it down?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg paused for a moment, in meditation, drawing in his eyelids, as -if to shut out even the daylight from his busy brain, and he replied, -at length--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very well, I will, marking the condition, that you pledge yourself to -assist me in one particular object, with your whole power and might."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very well," said the youth, and Lieberg wrote down the stipulations.</p> - -<p class="normal">The boy signed, what might be called, his confession, and Lieberg put -his hand to the promise. After he had done so, however, he shook his -head, gazing on the boy with a smile full of pity and contempt.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will keep that promise, my good youth, firmly," he said, "but at -the same time I will tell you, it is of no earthly value; for I have -nothing to do but to let this bill slip into the hands of the -Bow-street officers, and you are arrested, tried, and executed in the -shortest possible time. No promise of mine could save you. It is the -state that prosecutes, the law that condemns. I have nothing to do -with it but to swear that this name, purporting to be mine, is not my -handwriting," and he took out of his pocket-book the identical bill -which William Barham had forged, and laid his finger upon the fatal -words, "Frederick Lieberg," at the bottom.</p> - -<p class="normal">The unhappy youth gazed at it, with eyes of eager fire--and oh, what -would he have given to snatch it from the hand of him that held it, -and tear it into a thousand pieces that moment! The bright eyes of -Lieberg seemed to read his very thoughts, and again the dark and -bitter smile curled his lip, as he said--</p> - -<p class="normal">"You cannot get it, my good youth. It will remain with me till there -is a stronger bond between you and me, and what I desire is -accomplished.--Where is your sister?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not know," replied the youth, boldly. "Do you not know?--I -thought you did."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, indeed," replied Lieberg, "I am utterly ignorant. But we must -both know ere long. This is the first business we have before us.--You -tell me true, I see it--but how happens it that she was removed -without your knowledge?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was away for two days," replied the youth, "and when I came back -she was gone. But he knows--that Sir Morley Ernstein! Cannot you get -him to tell you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I would not ask him for this right hand," replied Lieberg, "but we -will soon find out without him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He refused to tell me," said the youth; "he would give me no tidings, -indeed, but that she is safe and with two ladies, one of whom is a -lady of rank."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" exclaimed Lieberg. "A lady of rank? Who can that be? And he -positively refused to let you know where she is?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That he did," answered the youth; "but I'll tell you what he told -me, too; he said that I should know where she is, and she should write -to me, as soon as I was aboard ship to go to the colonies. Can't we -make something of that, sir?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Certainly," answered Lieberg, "we will make everything of that, if we -cannot do what we desire before; for that might produce a long delay, -which must be avoided if possible.--Oh, we will arrive at it!" he -said, after a moment's thought--"where did you sleep, last night?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"In our own house," replied the boy. "The rent is paid, the woman told -me, and she is put in to keep it, with seven shillings a week; but the -place is still ours, till the twenty-ninth of September."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well then," said Lieberg, "go back at once to the good woman who is -in the house, and in the course of the evening get her to tell you -exactly what was the appearance of the ladies who came for your -sister, and what was the livery of the servant whom she talked of to -me. Whether he was a tall man or a short man, and, in a word, all the -particulars that she can furnish you with. Do not let her see that you -are cross questioning her, for I suspect, from her manner to me -yesterday morning, she has been told not to tell the truth to any one. -You must therefore proceed cautiously."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I understand--I understand!" replied the boy. "I must fish it -out, you mean."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Exactly," said Lieberg, with a smile at the expression. "Fish it out, -and come to me at six o'clock to-day. I shall then be dressing for -dinner, but you will be admitted; and now, as perhaps you are in want -of money, there is a ten-pound note for you. If we proceed -successfully, your fortunes are begun."</p> - -<p class="normal">The youth took the money eagerly. It was certainly the wages of -iniquity, but evil--whatever be its kind--always smoothes the road for -more; and William Barham had so often tasted burning pleasures bought -by money wrongly acquired, that there were no great scruples left in -his mind. His sister's honour and soul, her happiness, and her peace -of mind, he was very ready to sell for the combined temptation of -safety and enjoyment; and, taking the money greedily, he gave Lieberg -a meaning smile, which even sickened the superior demon with whom he -was dealing; for surely it is a part of the punishment which evil -spirits are destined to feel, even in the joys which they propose to -themselves, that they must abhor the tools they work with, and loathe -the means which they employ for their own ends. If Lieberg, at that -moment, had given way to his own inclination, he would have driven the -youth, with contempt and hatred, into the street. But he suffered him -to depart quietly, saying--"Do not fail;" and William Barham proceeded -on his way.</p> - -<p class="normal">Exactly at the hour appointed he was at Lieberg's door again, and was -instantly admitted to his dressing-room. The splendour and the luxury -of everything that he beheld, the beautiful arrangement, the exquisite -taste, struck him so much, that for a moment he did not speak, gazing -round at all the richly-chased silver implements, the china, the -glass, and the steel-work, with which the dressing-table was covered, -and thinking that his sister would be a very happy girl, if, on any -terms, she was permitted to live in the midst of such magnificence as -that. And yet William Barham had been taught good principles; had -heard, during his early youth, moral and religious doctrines from the -lips of his mother; and, until his father's health had failed -entirely, had daily received instruction from him. But there are some -minds which seem incapable of imbibing any clear and definite notion -of right and wrong. They can recollect that they have been told one -thing is good, and another thing is evil, and perfectly distinguish -between the two, but without feeling in their hearts, even in the -slightest degree, the excellence of the one and the hatefulness of the -other. They are like that arid soil, which will produce abundance of -weeds, but in which any good shrub withers as soon as it is planted.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was very much the case with William Barham; but there was another -cause which had tended also to make him what he was, and which must be -clearly pointed out. His father, though an excellent man and a sincere -Christian, was fond of indulging in speculative opinions--not of -embracing, but of discussing them--the most dangerous practice in the -world before young people, for if they do not absolutely adopt the -opinion that is wrong, they learn not to be quite sure that -any opinion is right. The mind of Helen herself might have been -affected by this fault on the part of their father, but she had two -safeguards--a pure, high-spirited heart, and the memory of her -mother's counsels, she having been somewhat older than her brother, -and more capable of receiving principles than he was, at the time of -that mother's death.</p> - -<p class="normal">The tidings which William Barham brought were fuller than Lieberg had -expected. The appearance of the servant and of the ladies was detailed -with great accuracy, and even the crest upon the servant's button was -known; but when Lieberg sent his valet to bring him a book that he -named, in which the crest of all the principal families of England -were displayed, he found that several would answer the description, -which, as may easily be supposed, had not been given with true -heraldic accuracy. William Barham seemed at his wits' end, when he -found that this was the case; but Lieberg, whatever might be the -strength of his passions, was not one of those who give them vent at -every trifling obstacle. On the contrary, like the great propelling -power of the present day, they were kept pent up within the iron of -his bosom, but to carry him on with the fiercer vehemence to the end -desired; and on this occasion he only laughed, saying--"We shall -arrive at it--do not be afraid. Combining the crest with the colour of -the livery, and then applying the description of the man himself and -the ladies, to discriminate among the various branches of the -family, we shall find out the facts. I will put it in the hands of -an Argus this very night, who will ferret out the whole matter ere -eight-and-forty hours be over. Difficulties, my young friend, to a man -of a firm mind, and obstacles in his path, of whatever nature they may -be, only afford him stronger inducements to follow his course, and -render his pursuit a passion. I remember a man who was told that he -could never throw the same combinations four times running with the -dice, and he sat for three months in the same room till he had done -it. That man was fit to struggle for an empire. I have seldom suffered -myself to seek anything very eagerly; but I never yet was baffled when -I did. And now go home, and keep yourself as quiet as may be. Have no -communication of any kind with the men that you know in London, and -confide no secrets to the women. Always be at your own house, so that -I may find you from nine in the morning till night-fall; the rest of -the four-and-twenty hours is your own."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Two days elapsed, and on the third morning Lady Malcolm was -sitting in -her drawing-room alone, when the servant threw open the door, and -announced "Colonel Lieberg." Her visitor upon the present occasion was -personally known to her, so far as a mere bow went, when they met in -society. But this was the first time that he had ever presented -himself at her house; and Lady Malcolm, therefore, as she well might, -looked somewhat surprised when she received him. Her demeanour, -however, was perfectly courteous, though somewhat distant withal, and -after begging him to be seated, she enquired what fortunate -circumstance procured her the honour of his visit.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I beg your ladyship's pardon," said Lieberg, "for intruding upon you, -especially at this hour of the morning; but, in truth, though I asked -for you--thinking it would be more proper so to do--my visit is -intended for a young lady, who is, I find, under your kind care and -protection, and to whom I have some intelligence to communicate, which -may, perhaps, give her pleasure."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lady Malcolm, however, had lived long enough in the great world to -have the faculty of misunderstanding, when she thought proper; and she -therefore replied--"I am really very sorry, Count, but Miss Carr is -out, and probably will not return till the evening."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your ladyship is under a mistake," replied Lieberg; "my visit was not -intended for the lady you mention, but for Miss Barham, who, her -brother informs me, is residing at your house."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is quite in error," replied Lady Malcolm; "Miss Barham did, -indeed, do me the favour of passing a few days with me, but she left -me yesterday morning."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg's cheek grew hot; and though he still maintained the -appearance of the utmost suavity, there was a certain degree of -sharpness in his tone, which shewed how mortified and disappointed he -was.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then, of course," he said, "your ladyship can favour me with her -address."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, indeed," replied Lady Malcolm, "I cannot. All I can tell you is, -that she is gone into the country."</p> - -<p class="normal">"May I humbly enquire," rejoined Lieberg, "whether your difficulty, in -regard to telling me her address, is voluntary, or from ignorance of -where she is?--beg pardon," he added, in a softer tone "if I am -asking anything extraordinary; but as I have matters of importance to -communicate to Miss Barham, it is very necessary that I should learn -her address by some means, in order to write to her speedily."</p> - -<p class="normal">"To answer you candidly, Count Lieberg," replied Lady Malcolm, "and as -you put the question so distinctly, I must acknowledge that I do not -give you the information you wish for, partly because I have not the -exact address, and partly because Miss Barham requested me not to say -where she is gone to any one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But I should certainly think she would make an exception in my -favour," said Lieberg, earnestly, "considering that business of the -greatest importance, affecting her brother in the highest degree, is -left entirely in my hands. I say, therefore, Lady Malcolm," he added, -as that lady remained perfectly silent--"I say, therefore, that I -should think she must have made an exception in my favour."</p> - -<p class="normal">"She did not," answered Lady Malcolm, drily; "she never hinted at any -exception at all; and such being the case, I cannot take upon myself -to make one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Really, this is very extraordinary," exclaimed Lieberg; "and allow me -to say, very mortifying also. Nor can I think that Miss Barham will be -at all obliged to those who prevent her from receiving intelligence -which it is necessary she should be made acquainted with directly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed," said Lady Malcolm, "I feel it to be a very painful and -disagreeable position; but you must see clearly, my dear Count, that I -have only one course to pursue."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, indeed," replied Lieberg, "I cannot say that I agree with you. I -cannot but think that, under, present circumstances, and considering -my character and station in life, you might, without hesitation or -apprehension of the consequences, make that exception in my favour -which I am perfectly certain Miss Barham would have done had she -thought of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay," replied Lady Malcolm, with a sly smile, "but you men are so bold -and resolute, Count Lieberg, and I am but a poor timid woman, always -afraid of doing wrong. You must forgive me, indeed, if I do not act as -you wish; and besides, as I say, I have not got her exact address. She -is to write to me in a few days, and then if she tells me to give you -her address, I can send it. If not, I will write to her, and ask. This -is all I can do."</p> - -<p class="normal">The tone in which she spoke was firm and determined; and Lieberg, -seeing that it was vain to press the matter further, made a virtue of -necessity, saying--"Well, my dear Lady Malcolm, you judge for the -best, I am sure; but believe me it may cause great inconvenience, -especially as I myself much want to go out of town. What a beautiful -little picture that is! That must be a Correggio!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is generally esteemed so," replied Lady Malcolm. And Lieberg, -before he took his leave, examined the various pictures which the room -contained, praising several with that degree of discrimination which -took from his commendation every appearance of flattery to the taste -of the lady who had selected the paintings, though in reality he was -skilfully smoothing down all the feelings of irritation which he -feared his own irritation might have produced. He succeeded so far as -to make Lady Malcolm say to herself, after he left her, "Well; he is a -very pleasant person, certainly.--But Morley is right," she added, "I -would not trust him in matters such as this."</p> - -<p class="normal">Whatever were Lady Malcolm's motives, the story which she had told -Count Lieberg was perfectly true. Miss Barham had left her on the -preceding day, and had gone down into the country. Juliet Carr, as she -had promised when Morley first mentioned the situation of his poor -protégée, had written at once to her father, asking if he would -receive Helen as her companion and friend, when she herself came down, -and hinting at those pecuniary arrangements which she knew would have -weight with her somewhat too covetous parent.</p> - -<p class="normal">To her surprise, however, she had received a letter by return of post, -making no reference whatsoever to money matters, but "begging Juliet -to ask only one question of her fair companion--namely, whether she -was or was not the daughter of the Rev. Mr. Barham, the curate of -Elmes, in Cumberland, and if both her father and mother were dead. If -so, he said, he would have the greatest pleasure in receiving her, as -he had been an intimate acquaintance of her grandfather, and done what -he could to prevent him from spending his fine property. He added, -moreover, that if from the circumstances at which Juliet had hinted, -it was more pleasant for Miss Barham to come down at once, without -waiting for his daughter, he begged she would do so, and remain as -long as she liked, when he would treat her in every respect as his -child."</p> - -<p class="normal">The whole letter was so unlike her father, that unless Juliet had seen -the handwriting she could scarcely have believed it was his -composition. That fact, however, was not to be doubted, and she -accordingly shewed the epistle to Helen, who immediately replied that -she was the daughter of the Mr. Barham mentioned, and she had some -faint idea of having heard him once or twice speak of Mr. Carr. Juliet -then proposed to write back to her father and inform him that, such -being the case, Helen would accompany her to Yelverly in a fortnight. -But Helen laid her fair hand upon her companion's arm, and gazing -earnestly in her face, replied, "I would rather go at once, if -possible."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But why so, dear Helen?" said Juliet. "Lady Malcolm wishes you to -stay, and go with us to some watering-place for a time, and Morley has -promised----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I would rather go at once," said Helen, with that sad shake of the -head which speaks that the heart is faint and weary within us,--"I -would rather go at once, dear Juliet--there is much that I would -willingly avoid here, in London."</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet understood her in a moment, and opposed her no farther; and it -was settled, at Helen's own desire, that she and her maid should -proceed part of the way to Yelverly on the following morning. This -plan was put in execution, and Helen herself seemed more than ever -anxious to fly from the scenes that surrounded her. She was to visit -for one day, as she went, the house of the friend to whom she had -previously written, and whose prolonged silence she did not -understand; after which, she was to go on to the house of Juliet's -father, and to write immediately on her arrival. Thus, Lady Malcolm -could safely say that she did not absolutely know where she was, -though Juliet Carr could not have done so with as much sincerity had -she been present, for Helen left the address of the friend she was -about to visit with her.</p> - -<p class="normal">We will not enquire into the feelings of Lieberg as he returned to his -own home, suffice it that he immediately sent for the youth, William -Barham, with whom he held a long conference. At the end of their -disquisition of ways and means, he despatched the lad to seek for -Morley Ernstein in Berkeley-square, but that gentleman was not at -home, and Lieberg himself, in riding through the park a few hours -afterwards, met him walking with Lady Malcolm and a young lady, whose -dazzling beauty of face and symmetry of form at once let Lieberg into -the secret of a part, at least, of his friend's conduct. "Ha, this is, -good!" he said to himself, as he rode on after bowing to Lady Malcolm, -and nodding familiarly to Morley. "This is good! However, Sir Morley, -you shall not frustrate me."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg did not attempt to stop; nor appear to take any further notice -of Juliet Carr; and Morley walked on by her side with very little -restraint upon their feelings from the presence of Lady Malcolm. -Whatever restraint did exist was, perhaps, not altogether unpleasant. -It is strange to say, that the fact of being prevented from doing what -we could wish to do, can ever be agreeable; and yet, though the lover -may long to be altogether alone with her he loves, there is a sweet -excitement in expressing all the warm and glowing feelings in the -heart, by shadowy figures, half veiling, half exposing, the thoughts -and the sensations that we should have told openly had there not been -an indifferent ear to listen.</p> - -<p class="normal">Good Lady Malcolm, indeed, was by no means indifferent; and though her -presence, as I have said, was some restraint, yet that restraint was -too small ever to be painful. The marriage of Morley Ernstein and of -Juliet Carr, was a thing that she had long set her heart upon; and -that they would fall in love with each other as soon as they met, was -one of those facts which she had predetermined, with that peculiar -sort of vaticination which many elderly ladies experience in regard to -affairs of the heart. When they did meet, then, and did fall in love -with each other, she received it more as a compliment to her -prophetical powers than anything else; and, well pleased with them and -herself, she left them to settle the rest as much to their own -satisfaction as possible.</p> - -<p class="normal">Having used the words, "when they did meet, and did fall in love with -each other," I must dwell for a minute or two upon the process of that -act, as, in the hurry of tale-telling, I could not pause upon it -sufficiently to explain some part of the mystery at the exact period -when it might be most proper to do so. I have shown, indeed, how it -took place with Morley Ernstein, that in his case it was, in fact, -<i>love at first sight</i>--a thing much more common, by the way, with -eager and impetuous hearts and quick imaginations, than is generally -supposed. It was, literally, love at first sight; for though there -might be some vague boyish impressions of what he had loved and liked -in childhood still remaining undefined in his mind, and making his -heart spring to Juliet Carr as soon as he saw her, yet they were too -indefinite to be taken into the account; and it was, simply and truly, -admiration of her dazzling beauty, and the translation of that -loveliness into a guarantee, under the hand of nature, that the heart, -and mind, and spirit within were of the brightest kind, which made -Morley Ernstein love Juliet Carr from the first moment he beheld her.</p> - -<p class="normal">With her, the matter was very different. Woman's love is nursed with -more visionary food than man's; and, in our cold climate at least, is -of slower but more solid growth than his. Circumscribed in her sphere -of action, even from her childhood, her feelings and her thoughts are -more concentrated within her own bosom, and fix more firmly upon the -great master topic of her whole existence--love. Juliet, the reader -has remarked, had recollected the early days she had passed with -Morley Ernstein, better than he had done. The reason was, that she was -a woman; and from a very early period, all the affections are matters -of more importance to a woman than a man. She had recollected those -early days, not only as a passing dream, but as a definite existence; -there was scarcely a sport or a pastime which they had enjoyed -together, that she could not call up before the eye of memory. The -voice of Morley Ernstein, in all the soft tones of boyish attachment, -had often rung in her ears as she grew towards womanhood. His young, -bright face often presented itself in her waking and her sleeping -hours, and sometimes she would try to picture the changes that must -have come over him, and would ask herself, "What the boy would be, now -he was become a man!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Her annual visit to Lady Malcolm too--her father allowed her to make -an annual visit--called Morley frequently back to her mind, for that -good friend would often talk of him in the manner which the little -scheme he had established, in her own mind, suggested; and by one -means or another, Juliet's imagination was supplied with plenty of -food for nursing up young affection into full-grown love. Thus was it, -then, that the germ of the future passion went on in her heart; so -that when she saw Morley Ernstein again under the wall of his own -park, it was with no slight emotion that she recognised the companion -of her early days; that she beheld him far surpassing, in personal -appearance, all which she had herself anticipated; that she heard the -tones of the same voice, which still echoed in her ear from the -pleasant places of her childhood, and that she beheld--although it was -evident that he did not know her--his eyes filled with admiration, and -with the promise of love. She dreamt upon that meeting for many a long -day, and dreamt joyfully, though the interview itself had been mingled -with some pain, in consequence of her father's harsh and rude repulse -of Morley's apology for the accident which had occurred.</p> - -<p class="normal">And now what were her feelings? Reader, she had given herself entirely -to the passion that had taken its place in her heart. Everything which -she had seen of Morley Ernstein was so noble, so generous, so kind, -that reason confirmed all that the voice of love prompted, and told -her that she might well, and without hesitation, acknowledge her -choice in the eyes of all the world. She felt that the glow of pride -would mingle with the blush of modesty on her cheek, as she avowed her -affection for one so well worthy of attachment, and she could not see -in the whole range of probability, one objection that any one could -urge against her union with him whom she had chosen. The eye of -avarice itself, greedy as it is, might be dazzled with the splendour -of his fortune. His attainments, his character, his connexions, were -all high, and such as might well satisfy a far nobler race than hers. -He was master, too, of himself, and of his own choice, so that there -did not appear the slightest chance of any obstacle to their union.</p> - -<p class="normal">Indeed, between Morley Ernstein and Juliet Carr, difficulties were -never thought of--objections were never anticipated. Morley had never -asked her to wed him. He had told her of his love; he had painted it -with all the fire and eagerness that he felt; he had seen that he was -loved in return, and, not satisfied with that, he had drawn from her, -by questions, and entreaties, and all the arts of passion, an -acknowledgment that it was so. More than one day had passed in all the -pleasant visions of the future, in all the words, and looks, and -caresses which form that bright and rapturous dream in which the hours -of young affection fleet by. Rarely, very rarely, do lovers think much -of difficulties, and certainly if there ever was a case were it seemed -needless to do so, it was that of Morley Ernstein and Juliet Carr. -While they were together--and it must be admitted that they were so -during the greater part of each day--the minutes flew by like -lightning; and had their whole lives been destined to pass in the same -manner, life and death would have seemed but two points with an -instant of joy between them.</p> - -<p class="normal">There were times, however, when the ordinary proprieties of society, -or the particular arrangements of Lady Malcolm, kept them apart, and -in those hours Lieberg was almost always with Morley Ernstein. Now, -let not the reader suppose that Morley was very foolish, or very weak, -for putting any trust in one who was so little trust-worthy, or in -associating with a man, whose views, thoughts, and principles, were so -different from his own. The reader, it is true, knows what were -Lieberg's views, thoughts, and principles. For the eyes of the world -we have drawn back the veil, and exposed his heart; but such was not -the case with Morley Ernstein. No hand had laid bare for him the -objects and the views of his travelling companion--no one had shewn -him Lieberg's dealings with William Barham--no one had told the -purposes he nourished against Helen with but the more eagerness and -determination from the opposition that he had met with. On all these -points Morley was in the dark. He only knew Lieberg as the most -fascinating person that he had ever met with; as a man full of talent, -information, and taste; as one who possessed that sort of candour, -which, far from concealing opinions when opposed either to the views -and prejudices of others, or to the general feelings of society, -rather exaggerates and aggravates them, and makes them appear worse -than they really are. He knew him, besides, as one capable of doing -generous actions, and at the same time denying all merit in performing -them; as one, who was even at that moment sacrificing a large sum, -rather than proceed to the destruction of a fellow-creature; as one -who had saved his own life, and who had attended him through a long -and painful sickness with the care and tenderness of a brother.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was the light in which Morley had alone a right to regard Count -Lieberg, although his friend's openly-avowed principles, in regard to -some points of morality, might well cause him to avoid as far as -possible placing the fate of a young and lovely being, like Helen -Barham, in any degree at his disposal. Nor did the least point appear -in Lieberg's present conduct, which could excite Morley's suspicions. -He entered warmly into his views for hastening the departure of -William Barham from England; he drove with Morley down to the docks, -for the purpose of seeking a vessel to bear the youth to a foreign -land. He aided eagerly in obtaining the promise of a small place of -considerable labour, but no great trust, for Helen's brother, and in -every respect he seemed almost to have forgotten herself. So at least -it appeared, though, indeed, if there was anything which should have -excited Morley's suspicion, it was the fact of Lieberg's total silence -in regard to an object which had once seemed to interest him so -deeply. But Morley was not of a suspicious nature, and he judged that -Lieberg, a man of the world, and a man of pleasure, had looked upon -poor Helen Barham as a beautiful picture, which he had seen and -perhaps desired, but had forgotten very soon. Thus he was well pleased -to enjoy Lieberg's society, whenever he was obliged to be absent from -Juliet Carr. Yet, if the truth must be told, Morley did feel that his -companion's conversation was not calculated to improve him, though it -might be to instruct and to amuse. Nevertheless he did not bring the -conviction home to his own heart so far as to prevent him from -accompanying Lieberg to various places of entertainment, and enjoying -the comments of his friend fully as much as that which he went to see -or to hear.</p> - -<p class="normal">Once, and only once, during their rambles about London, Lieberg jested -with him slightly upon the subject of Juliet Carr, and claimed a right -to be present at the marriage, saying--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pray tell the fair lady, Morley, that I pulled you out of the water -just in time to fulfil your country's vulgar proverb, about the -propensity to hanging counteracting the risk of a watery death."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, you shall be present," replied Morley, gaily, "but recollect, -Lieberg, you have been wrong once in regard to your calculation of my -proceedings, and you may be mistaken, even now."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg looked at him with a quiet smile, but made no reply, and the -conversation dropped there. As usually happens in London, two or three -gay <i>fêtes</i> took place, as if to close the season brilliantly, and, -whenever it was possible, Lieberg induced his young friend to go to -these parties, and introduced him to a number of the persons present. -Although, by this time, all Morley's plans and purposes, in regard to -the study of society, had been burnt up, like old acts of parliament, -in the fire of passion, he was not sorry to see such scenes, and to -know such people. But if Lieberg thought that Morley was likely to -plunge into the vortex of dissipated life, to have his attention -distracted, and his eyes blinded, by the gay scenes and bright objects -around him, so as to forget his purposes in regard to Helen Barham, -and to leave her to her fate, even for a short period, Lieberg was -mistaken.</p> - -<p class="normal">Had Morley not known Juliet Carr, he might have drunk of the cup of -pleasure to intoxication; for there were many beautiful, and -sparkling, and brilliant, who were right willing to lead him into -paths more flowery than safe, and to assail him on all sides, with -arms very difficult for a young man to resist. But Morley was defended -now with that highest and noblest of armours, love for a pure and -beautiful being. His life, in short, was in Juliet Carr, and all the -rest around him was but a pageant or a dream.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"Take care you're not done, Bill--that's all I say!" was the -exclamation of the good-looking, powerful fellow, who has once already -been placed before the reader's eyes, under the name of Harry Martin, -and who now sat with Helen's brother in the house she had inhabited. -"If he gets you on board ship, you mayn't get out again, I take it; -but you know your own business best. I don't like the job, I can tell -you. I think you're all wrong, my lad, and you'll find it out some -day.--Come, pass us another glass, and I'll be jogging.--If I were -you, I would stick to my sister; she's a very good girl, I hear; and -hang me, Bill, it's very well talking, but a good girl's a good girl, -you know, and a bad one's a bad one--there's no mistake. You that are -born a gentleman, too, I should have thought you'd something more of -it in you. Why didn't ye fly at the fellow's throat when he shewed you -the paper, and tear it all to pieces in a minute?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I couldn't," said William Barham, who had been gazing down upon the -floor, with a look half sullen, half ashamed; "there was a table -between us, and I couldn't get at it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If you could get hold of that," said Harry Martin, "the job would be -at an end, you know; you could do what you pleased. Can't you make him -shew it you again?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The boy shook his head. "It wont do, Harry," he said; "he keeps it in -a little pocket-book, with some other things; and I would have tried -to get it out of his pocket quietly, as Simes showed me how one day, -but you see it's an inside pocket, and I can't get at it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, for that matter, one could cut his pocket off," said Harry -Martin; "and I shouldn't care if I had a hand in it; but we must have -two or three, and unless there was a good deal of tin to be had -besides, the men would not like to risk a trip to Botany, just to get -that note of yours. However, I'll think over it, and talk with some -other fellows about it, and perhaps we shall bring the thing right -after all. I'll take one more glass, and then I'll go."</p> - -<p class="normal">William Barham thought for a moment or two, and then said, "I'll tell -you what, Harry, when we find out where Helen is, he's sure to go down -into the country after her. Don't you think that one could do -something, as he goes? He has always lots of money about him, and that -gold snuff box which there was a piece of work about once with Bill -Jones, you know; and if he goes into the country for any time, his -dressing-case is worth a cool couple of hundred, just to make soup of, -as you call it. It's all gold and silver together."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What! a touch of the highway, as men used to have long ago?" said -Harry Martin. "But that's not so easy done now, my boy. We have -changed all that--trade has fallen off sadly too. I wish those days -would come again, for there's scarce a man of us keeps a horse now."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, you've got your horse and gig, Harry," said the youth.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, but one can't stop a gentleman on the road with a horse and gig."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very true," answered William Barham; "but if he were to go down into -the country, you could go after him, and make a smash of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man with whom he was talking, laughed, but seemed to think the -idea not a bad one. "We can't do it for nothing, Bill," he said; -"though if he puts up in a place where there's something to be got, -and the thing's easy, I shouldn't mind undertaking it, for your sake, -though I am not a cracksman, myself--especially if it's a good way -down in the country, for you see, there's not so much chance of being -pulled up for it. We could have the gig waiting, and after the job -was done, get in and drive thirty miles or so, and then take the -coach. All I can say is, if you choose to cut this business about your -sister entirely, and want really to get out of the fellow's power, -I'll help you as far as I can; so look out, there's a good boy, and -let me know; for hang me, if I like to see a poor girl bought and -sold, like a sheep in Smithfield!--And now, good night, Bill. I would -fain see you a free man again, for now you're no better than a -nigger-slave in the West Indies."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he left him, and I will not pause to investigate and lay -bare all the curious combinations in the bosom of Harry Martin, which -produced his strange and anomalous notions of honour and dishonour, -honesty and dishonesty. It would be a very difficult task in his case, -and perhaps if we knew all, it would not be much less so in the case -of many men of far higher reputation--for too, too often, in this good -world, do we see the frauds to which they are accustomed, the -dishonest--ay, and criminal acts, which suit their purposes and -conveniences, placed in as strange contrast with better things in the -life of high and distinguished persons, "all honourable men," as the -habit of plundering was, with his notions in regard to Helen Barham, -in the breast of Henry Martin. The man who takes a solemn vow at the -altar, in the presence of his God, and breaks it ere three months are -over, would cut the throat of his dearest friend, if he called him a -liar; and yet, what is he? The politician, who, on the hustings, or on -the table, excites the passions of the people, vows that he is seeking -their own interests solely, when his object is place, or power, or -station; or he, who in his canvass promises all sorts of things that -he never can, and never will perform, what is he but a hypocrite? and -yet he would grin at you like a dog if you gave him his right name. I -could go on for an hour to shew how we felons of high station contrive -to render our notions of honour quite as compatible with crime and -dishonour, of the basest sort, as were the plundering habits of -William Barham's companion, with his indignation at the brother's -carelessness of the sister's honour.</p> - -<p class="normal">However, as I have said, I must not pause upon such things, for I fear -very much, with the slow rate at which my story proceeds, I may be -obliged to infringe the boundary which the customs of the present day -ascribe to the teller of a tale. Nor will I delay the reader with all -that took place between Lieberg and William Barham, previous to the -embarkation of the latter in the river Thames, for a long and distant -voyage. The whole business was conducted with the knowledge, and under -the eye, of Morley Ernstein. Money was furnished to him for all -necessary expenses, and Mr. Hamilton, who was now slowly recovering, -promised his interest, at Morley's solicitation, to obtain advancement -for the young man in the distant land to which he was going, if his -conduct during a couple of years justified the belief that he would -act honourably for the future. Before he embarked, he wrote a letter -to Helen, and gave it into Morley's hands to put upon it the right -address. Morley did so, and forwarded it himself, but no answer had -been received at the time the ship dropped down the river.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such were the principal events connected with the fate of William -Barham which took place in London; but I must now suddenly change the -scene, and beseech the reader to accompany me to a distant spot, and -take up his abode for a short space in a small room--for the inn had -no other but small rooms--in a house known by the distinctive -appellation of "The Sandown Castle," in the small town of Deal.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was night, and the wind had been blowing freshly from the westward -during the whole day; but as the sun went down it increased to a gale, -varying somewhat to the southward, with an unpromising blackness about -the sky in that quarter, mingling with the faint red of evening, in -the west and north. It was altogether as ominous and unpleasant a -night to commence a long voyage upon, as any one could wish to see; -and nobody whose destiny was not very well assured, would have chosen -the neighbourhood of the Goodwin Sands for his night's lodging on the -deep. Although the wind had got to the south, as I have said, the -night was one of those which are more generally met with in this -favoured climate than any other--that is to say, cold, raw, and damp, -in the very midst of the summer, giving us back all our recollections -of December in the heart of July.</p> - -<p class="normal">The room of which I have spoken in the little inn, had been made as -comfortable as possible, under existing circumstances. The table had -been well rubbed, to take out the marks of tumblers, imprinted in -rum-and-water; the windows had been opened to "air the room"--a -proceeding which, to say the truth, was not a little required, as a -dull and heavy atmosphere of tobacco-smoke and mixed spirits reigned -within, and seemed very ill-disposed to go out, either at door or -window, in that cold and boisterous night. There was a small fire, -too, in the grate, and once or twice, as the evening drew in and night -fell heavy over the world, a very genteel-looking personage, with a -foreign countenance, and a grave, sedate air, entered the room, looked -about him to see that everything was right, put this thing and that -thing in order; smoothing down a great coat, that hung over the back -of a chair, stirring the fire, arranging the furniture, and doing all -those little acts which give notice that some personage is expected, -for whom everything must be prepared in the nicest manner.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, he shut the windows and lighted the candles, and in about -ten minutes after, a gentleman, dressed in the very height of fashion, -with a large blue military cloak, of the finest cloth, hanging from -his shoulders, entered the room, and advancing to the fire, gazed into -it for a minute or two in silence. The other personage whom we have -mentioned, stood at a respectful distance, without saying a single -word, till at length his master, for so it was, turned round and gave -him his hat and wet cloak, saying, "Here, Martini, take these, and -then go down to the beach. It is a terrible night, and I am uneasy -about the ship--one can see the surf running upon the sands quite -plain. There was a vessel too, apparently coming into the Downs, but I -could make nothing of it myself, and the jargon of these pilots I do -not pretend to understand. I suppose the boy will come ashore -directly, of course."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If he can, sir," replied the man, with a strong foreign accent; "but -I should not like to trust myself, I know, in an open boat, on such a -night as this."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There are several boats out," said Lieberg, for it was our friend who -spoke; and then making a sign for the man to leave him, he sat till -nearly eleven o'clock at night in that worst of all states of -idleness; the idleness of a strange inn, which is the next thing to -solitary confinement. Lieberg, on most occasions, had plenty of means -of employing and amusing himself, but at the present moment his mind -was evidently not at ease. He gazed during the greater part of the -evening into the fire, and one might have supposed that it was the -thought of being baffled in his pursuit, by the destruction of the -ship which bore William Barham, that troubled him, had not a word or -two escaped from his lips towards the end of the period we have -mentioned, which shewed that, in reality, some better feelings were -mingled with his emotions, and that it was about the youth himself, -and the risk he ran for the time, he was anxious. The words indeed, -dear reader, to which I allude, were all harsh, and, apparently, -unfeeling; but still they shewed that Lieberg was occupied rather with -the boy's fate than with his own plans and purposes.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Curse him!" he said, rising from his chair, towards eleven -o'clock--"he may as well die that way as any other. He would be -hanged, that's certain, sooner or later, if he escaped the water. So -it is as well if he be drowned after all. There is no reason for my -making myself uneasy about him. It might be as well, indeed, if he had -some other business in hand when called upon to join the world of -spirits; but I dare say, let him live as long as a patriarch, he would -be engaged in some rascality at the day of his death, and as well this -as anything else; so good bye to him!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, Lieberg rang the bell and ordered supper to be brought, -of which, when it did appear, he partook moderately, and then retired -to bed, his valet having by that time returned without any tidings -whatsoever of William Barham, or the ship that bore him. If the truth -must be told, however, Lieberg did not sleep much, for while he was -undressing, a dull, distant peal came from the sea, loud, but heavy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"'Tis some ship firing for a pilot, sir," said his valet.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg took out his watch and listened; ere the minute was quite -done, there came the roar of another gun, and then another, and -another. For near an hour the same sounds went on, when all became -still, except the rushing of the wind, and the heavy, thunder-like -fall of the sea upon the beach. Stoicism may do its utmost, but the -human heart generally finds a time to speak, and Lieberg was so -evidently uneasy, that his <i>valet de chambre</i>--who had about as -much feeling as that race of created beings generally have, and no -more--evidently saw that his master was very much more moved than was -usually the case with him, and went to bed, wondering what could be -the occasion thereof--that is to say, not asking himself exactly what -was the object of Lieberg's emotion, but what possibly could induce -him to give way to any emotion at all.</p> - -<p class="normal">Perceiving, however, that such was the case, and wishing, as all -well-disposed <i>valets de chambre</i> are expected to do, to set his -master's mind at ease, his tap was heard at Lieberg's door towards six -o'clock on the following morning, and his voice exclaimed--"He is -arrived, sir! The ship has gone to pieces, but all the crew are -saved."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg instantly started up, threw on his brocaded dressing-gown, and -opened the door. The man, who was standing there, pointed to the -sitting-room, which was on the opposite side of the passage, and his -master instantly crossed over and entered the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">Certainly never on earth did a more disconsolate object present -itself to the eyes of man, than that which was offered to Lieberg's -sight by the unfortunate William Barham. He was seated on a chair by -the fire--which had just been relighted and had not well burnt -up--without a coat or waistcoat; his long, silky, light hair drenched -with water, and hanging upon his cheeks and neck; his countenance, -previously pallid with licentiousness and habits of vice, now ten -times paler than ever, and purplish at the extremes, with the cold and -terror he had undergone; his eyes languid, his teeth chattering, and -his whole limbs trembling, while a bad cut upon his forehead, received -in getting into one of the boats, made him look still more miserable, -and a stain or two of blood oozing through the breast of his shirt, -shewed that he must have received some other blow upon the chest.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg was truly moved by what he saw, and exerted himself -energetically to comfort and assist the unhappy young man. "Get a bed -ready, and have it warmed, immediately!" he exclaimed, addressing a -drowsy chambermaid, who was trying, by various pokes and thumps, to -irritate the cold-hearted coals, in the grate, into some degree of -warmth. "You, Martini, bring him some Madeira as quick as possible, -while I get him some dry clothes."</p> - -<p class="normal">The girl proceeded as slowly as possible, according to the usual -custom of such personages; but Martini sprang rapidly to obey his -master's orders, and Lieberg himself soon procured all that was -necessary for arraying the unfortunate youth in dry clothing, and -bringing some degree of warmth back into his chilled and exhausted -frame. A surgeon also was sent for, and, as soon as possible, William -Barham was placed in a warm bed, and received such treatment as the -man of art thought necessary in the existing circumstances.</p> - -<p class="normal">While this was taking place he said very little himself, only -answering in a monosyllable; and Lieberg asked but few questions for -the time. All that he thus learnt was, that the vessel had got well -out of the mouth of the Thames, and was making the best of her way -towards her destination, notwithstanding the Captain's previous -intimation that he would touch at Deal, when the change of wind had -forced him to try for an anchorage in the Downs, and, by some -mismanagement towards nightfall, the ship, instead of getting into a -place of security, had been driven upon the Goodwins, and become a -complete wreck. Though the gallant boatmen of Deal had done all in -their power, it had proved utterly impossible to save any one from the -wreck before daybreak. But then, with great difficulty, and at the -imminent risk of their own lives, the hovellers, as they are called, -had contrived to bring off the whole of the crew, except one or two, -who had been swept from the wreck during the night. Further -particulars were obtained by Lieberg in the course of the day; and -with the spirit of liberality which he always shewed, he contributed -largely to assist the unfortunate persons who had lost the whole of -their stores in the ship, and also to reward the brave fellows who had -saved their lives.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg thus occupied himself during the day, and at night returned to -the inn, where his servant met him at the foot of the little stairs, -and communicated to him two pieces of intelligence, the latter of -which seemed to affect him the most.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is up, sir," said the man in a low tone; "and in the sitting-room; -and he has received a letter from the post-office, addressed to -William Barham, Esq., in the ship Mary Anne.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">"In what sort of hand?" demanded Lieberg, eagerly. "Did you see the -post-mark?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The hand was a very good one, sir," replied the valet. "The post-mark -was Doncaster."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg started, and turned red. "Morley Ernstein's post-town!" he -exclaimed. "But nonsense!" he continued, after pausing for a moment, -"he is still lingering on in London. The thing cannot be. He must have -got somebody to receive her in the neighbourhood;" and with some -doubts still upon his mind, he mounted the staircase and entered the -room, where William Barham was seated over the fire, though by this -time the weather had become sultry to the feelings of every one else.</p> - -<p class="normal">"How hot the room is!" exclaimed Lieberg, as he entered. "Tell the -people to serve dinner as soon as possible.--Well, William, how do you -feel now?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very much bruised, and very cold," replied the youth, sullenly. "I -hear you have had a letter from your sister," said Lieberg, in a -quiet, easy tone. "Pray where is she now?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The man Martini was in the room; and it is probable that Lieberg -calculated upon the youth giving him an answer at once. But -William Barham still sat over the fire, without looking up, and -replied--"We'll talk about that by-and-by."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Leave the room, Martini," said Lieberg, adding, as soon as he was -obeyed--"Well, William, now, where is your sister?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The youth rose up from before the fire, and stood opposite to Lieberg, -pale, ghastly, and haggard, replying, boldly--"I do not mean to say I -do not know where my sister is, for I do, and I know too that you have -got me in your power; but before I tell you any more, or help you any -farther, I will have you promise me to settle something upon her, so -that she may never want."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg gazed at him for a moment, with a dark, considering look, not -unmixed with contempt, and he then replied--"Make your mind easy, she -shall never want. Now answer my question, and quickly, for I do not -love being trifled with."</p> - -<p class="normal">The worm he trod upon turned against him, and the youth replied--"I -shall not tell you anything more, or help you any farther, unless you -give me some better assurance than that. I'll tell you what, Count; -last night in the storm, when I was clinging to the wreck, I thought I -heard Helen's voice in the wind, and this morning I have been thinking -of her ever since I woke; and I have made up my mind sooner to die -than to do anything farther, unless you will give me something, under -your hand, which will ensure that she shall never be walking about the -streets in misery, as I have seen some poor girls do."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg frowned upon him darkly, with feelings that it may be best to -explain. We can only do so in part, it is true, for there was one dark -side of his character upon which we cannot throw light. Such -explanation, however, as we can give, we will. There had been -something in the beauty of Helen Barham--ay, in her innocence and -somewhat wild simplicity--which had struck and captivated him much. -Her talents, too, and tastes, were of a kind to attract him; and -though he had beheld her but once, he had seen quite sufficient to -show him that she was exactly the being for whom he had been long -seeking, to be his companion, his paramour, the object of passion, the -amusement of idle hours; to be sported with, conversed with, to be -lapped in luxury, spoiled, petted, and perhaps loved, but to be -dependent entirely upon his will--the slave of the Eastern harem, not -the wife of a civilized land.</p> - -<p class="normal">He saw all this in a moment, and had determined to obtain her: yet -perhaps he might have been diverted from the pursuit by any small and -ordinary obstacle, which did not pique his vanity or excite his -passions. The difficulties he had met with, however, had been the work -of human beings; he had been thwarted and opposed by those who seemed -inferior to himself; and every stumbling-block that he met with, every -barrier in his way, made him but the more resolute to overleap them -all, and to pursue his course with a degree of vehemence and passion, -which mere love for Helen Barham could not have excited in the short -space of time that he had known her.</p> - -<p class="normal">Determined to win her, and thinking that no sacrifice would be too -much for that object, he would not have hesitated, in the least, to -make any provision for her that was in his power, had it not been -dictated to him; but that her brother, who was bound hand and foot -before him, chained to his will, as a sinner to the power of -Satan--that he should turn and make conditions, excited the evil -spirit that reigned in him to the very highest pitch, and made him -reply, after gazing upon the youth darkly for a moment--"Very -well.--you would sooner die, would you? That is easy. I had better -send for a constable;" and he put his hand towards the bell, adding, -as he did so--"You make your own choice, young man; but do not let any -wild notions of romance enter into your head, and make you believe -that you can frustrate me. You will only be hanged yourself, and make -no change in your sister's fate, for I know that she is in the -neighbourhood of Doncaster as well as you do. So now I shall give you -into charge at once; then go down to see her, and return in time to -bear testimony to your merits at the trial:" and he rang the bell.</p> - -<p class="normal">The youth's resolution failed him; he gasped, as if he were half -strangled, exclaiming--"For God's sake--for God's sake, spare me!" and -thrust into Lieberg's hand--even as the landlord entered the room--the -letter which he had received from Helen Barham.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg's lip curled, and grasping the letter tight, he turned round -to the landlord, saying--"Is not the dinner ready? I ordered it at six -precisely! What wine can you give me?" and he entered, in the calmest -tone possible, into a discussion upon things to be eaten and drunk, -which would not edify the reader to hear.</p> - -<p class="normal">After he had done, and the landlord was dismissed, Lieberg walked with -the letter to the window, read it attentively, took a note of one or -two things on some tablets, and then returned it to William Barham.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mark one thing, my good young man," he said, "and recollect it well -in your future dealings with me--I am not a man to be dictated to. -Nothing was ever obtained from me by threat or opposition yet. What -you required for your sister just now, and I would not grant, because -you asked it in a high tone, I will now consent to, since you have -yielded obedience, and will give you a promise under my hand of that -which will always put your sister above need. Where is the paper I -gave you when we were in London? I will add it to that."</p> - -<p class="normal">The boy shook his head sadly, saying--"It is lost, with everything -else that I had, in that ship. You must write it on another piece of -paper."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That I will do at once," said Lieberg, drawing a writing-desk to him. -"Do not be cast down, my good youth, at your losses, I will soon -repair them amply if we succeed. But come, here is the dinner, and you -want some refreshment. I will write it afterwards. Sit down; what will -you take--some soup, or some fish?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The youth sat down to table with him, and Lieberg treated him with -kindness. But the reader learned in the human heart need not be told, -that William Barham hated him as much for his after-condescension as -he did for his previous tyranny.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg kept his word. After dinner he wrote a promise, which was -quite as satisfactory to William Barham as such a promise could be: he -provided him also with all that was necessary for his comfort, while -weakness obliged him to remain in Deal, and gave him money to journey -to London as soon as he had taken some repose, charging him strictly, -however, to go to the house he had formerly inhabited, and keep -himself out of sight of Sir Morley Ernstein. Lieberg himself set off -early in the following morning for London, proposing to go down at -once to Doncaster, in pursuit of Helen, but hoping to return -successful ere many days were over.</p> - -<p class="normal">Not wishing his proceedings to be particularly remarked, and fearing -that he might meet some one in the coach who knew him, Lieberg had -come down to Deal in his own carriage, and in it he returned; but -scarcely was he gone, when William Barham demanded at what hour the -coaches started, and in less than half an hour after he also was on -his way to town, with feelings of hatred in his heart towards him who -had just left him, which were not without their fruit in due time.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXIV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Wend back with me, dear reader, into that distant part of the -country -where this tale first began; not exactly, indeed, to the same scene, -but to a spot about three or four miles from Morley Court, which you -have already heard of, under the name of Yelverly. The aspect of that -place, and of the whole country round it, was so peculiar, that I -should have wished to pause, and give some description of the house -and grounds, even if I had not been impelled to do so by the necessity -of the case. But there are things to come, which may render it -requisite that the reader's eye should be able to call up, like a -magistrate, each individual part of the scene before it, and examine -it strictly as a witness in regard to the events that are taking -place. Oh, those silent witnesses!--those trees, those shrubs, those -fields! those dark panels of the old oak chamber! those carved figures -and antique busts of ancient heroes!--oh, those silent witnesses in -every old domain! Could we but endow them with a voice, what tales -might they tell of merry or sad scenes in the long past; of secret -sins, and horrible treacheries; of human absurdity, folly, and vice; -of crime, of agony, and of despair! How might they, with their quaint -old legends, make the lips laugh, the bosom heave, and the eyes -overflow!</p> - -<p class="normal">The house of Yelverly was a curious old stone structure, of firm and -solid masonry, on which few repairs had taken place, for few had been -necessary, but which had been subjected to several alterations, as was -evinced by apertures blocked up here and there, and by the lines of -different coloured stone-work, which indicated that the tops of the -windows, which were now square, had once displayed pointed, or Tudor -arches. What the building had originally been I do not know, probably -some dependence of a monastery or abbey, in the neighbourhood. It had -never been large, though it now formed a roomy and convenient house -for a small family. But, notwithstanding its antiquity, and the -picturesque taste of the architects of the age in which it was built, -it had not one single pretension to beauty of any kind; sort, or -description whatsoever. It was grey, and cold, and flat, with the -windows apparently scattered over the face of it by accident, each -having been put in, beyond all doubt, wherever it was found -convenient; here, to light one room--there, to light another; at one -point to clear up the obscurity of a staircase--at a second, to let -the sun shine into a passage.</p> - -<p class="normal">As if to disfigure the front more completely, a penthouse had been -thrown out from one side, at the height or about ten feet from the -ground, covering an eighth part the building, and rendering the rooms -thus sheltered dull and sunless enough. The principal door would have -been as ugly as the rest of the house, had it not possessed an -old-fashioned stone porch, with a seat on either side, which, by no -means beautiful in itself, yet relieved the eye, in some degree, by -breaking the flatness of the building.</p> - -<p class="normal">Before the house, extended a long grass court, up which no carriage -could drive, and which was separated from a cross road that run in -front, by a wall about three feet high, surmounted by a row of tall, -thin, iron railings. The ornaments of the court were ten magnificent -old yew trees, forming, as it were, a sort of avenue from the gate in -the iron railing, up to the door of the house, the trees being ranged -at equal distances on either side, and a small path, formed of -dumpling-like stones placed edgeways, running between them. On either -side the court was flanked by a tall brick wall, and the only entrance -for a carriage was down a narrow lane at the side, which led by some -gates into a large paved court behind. It is true that Mr. Carr, -having quarrelled with all the gentry in the neighbourhood, and not -being particularly beloved by the great farmers, who had an idea that -he was fond of fomenting disputes, was seldom troubled with the -approach of curricle, or carriage, or one-horse chaise. But still that -lane was necessary and useful to him, as he was himself a skilful and -experienced agriculturist, though so avaricious, as often to injure -himself by grudging a load of manure where it was really necessary.</p> - -<p class="normal">The country round was of a very curious aspect. For more than a mile -on either side, it displayed chiefly fine old grass-land, separated -into fields of every size and shape by thick-set hedges, well kept, -but totally without trees. The scenery, though not at all mountainous, -or even hilly, might be called hillocky, for it was so undulating, -that if a field contained more than four acres, it was certain to have -in it both a hill and a valley; and through several of the latter ran -a clear trout-stream, giving great luxuriance to the grass, and -rendering it the finest pasture ground in the world. There was an air, -however, of bareness about the landscape, from the want of trees, -which accorded well with the bald antiquity of the old house, and on a -summer evening, when the sun was going down, and the slant beams -peered over the green uplands, one might sit in that stone porch, and -fancy oneself a yeoman of the olden time, so much did the ancient -aspect of the whole scene sink into the heart.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was on such a summer evening, then, that Old Carr, the miser--as he -was called in the neighbourhood,--walked forth between those black -yews with fair Helen Barham. Nature, who loves contrasts, and who -places the bright red berries amidst the dark green leaves, might well -be satisfied with the opposition of those two: Helen, as she came -forward, the picture of youth and grace and wild simplicity; and -Robert Carr, with age, and heaviness, and slow computation in all his -steps and looks. I have already described his personal appearance, and -have only to add, in that respect, that he seemed to the eye much more -aged when on foot than on horseback, as is very often the case. His -hair was not white, indeed, but it was very thickly mingled with grey, -and though he was not fat, yet, as I have said, he was heavy. His step -was deliberate and weighty, and his face, which had certainly once -been handsome, was marked with many lines, which one might have taken -for the traces of strong passions, had it not been for the thoughtful, -calculating expression of the countenance, which seemed utterly at -variance with passion of any sort but one. The greed of gain was -written there in characters easily read, though it also was of its -particular kind. It was more the eagerness of the beast of prey, than -the spirit of petty accumulation; nor was it alone the rapacity of the -wolf, for the subtlety of the fox was there also.</p> - -<p class="normal">The eyes were bent down upon the ground all the time he walked, but -the right eyebrow was raised up and down, as the feelings, called -forth by the conversation, produced any change upon his countenance, -and always, while he was listening, his upper lip was raised on the -opposite side, displaying a long, fang-like tooth, with much of the -look of a dog when one strives to take away a bone. He must have been -a tall man and powerfully formed, though now very much broken; and it -is said that he beat another attorney almost to death in the streets -of York, for having foiled him in an unjust suit. The other prosecuted -him, indeed, for an assault; but by some of the extraordinary -loopholes of the law, Robert Carr crept through the danger, and -escaped unpunished.</p> - -<p class="normal">He did not give his arm to Helen Barham as they walked, but held a -thick staff in his right hand, with which he steadied his steps, and -strove to give himself the appearance of youthful firmness. He had -shewn to Helen Barham so much kindness and courtesy since her arrival, -however, that she would have been very willing to pass over the want -of any small attention, even had she perceived it, which certainly she -did not; and, walking on beside him, with her bonnet loosely thrown -on, her rich hair clustering round her beautiful face, a look of -thoughtful sadness in her dark bright eyes, and a somewhat listless -grace in all her movement, very different from the wild buoyancy of -her step before she knew Morley Ernstein, she listened to the old -lawyer's questions, and gave him true and simple answers, with little -or no reservation, for he did not touch upon any of those points where -she might have felt some difficulty in framing her reply.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And so," said old Carr, "your brother is seventeen years of age."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nearly eighteen," replied Helen; "his birthday is in December."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A cold month," said the lawyer--"mine is in October. And so you, left -him in London?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes," replied Helen, "but he was very speedily to sail for the West -Indies."</p> - -<p class="normal">The old man started--"Sail for the West Indies!" he exclaimed. "Sail -for the West Indies! That is very unfortunate. What could make him -think of such a thing as that?--that is very unfortunate, indeed!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps not so much as you imagine," said Helen, colouring, and -determined to meet the point at once, with the general truth, lest she -should be cross-questioned in regard to the particulars. "My poor -brother had got into very bad society, I am sorry to say, and some -kind and generous friends have obtained for him a small post in one of -those colonies."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He must come back--he must come back!" said the old lawyer. "I was -just going to bid you invite him down here. Do you think he is gone? -Are you sure he is sailed?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"By this time he certainly is," replied Helen. "In your kind -daughter's letter, which I received two or three days ago, she -informed me of the day that he was to sail, and enclosed to me a -letter from himself, confirming the same tidings, and bidding me write -to him at Deal, as that would be the last opportunity of communicating -with him ere his departure. I wrote yesterday, accordingly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is very unlucky," said the old man, "and now the post is gone -out. He must come back--he must come back!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay," answered, Helen, somewhat surprised, and, to say the truth, -thinking the old gentleman verging towards dotage. "It will be better -for him, I believe, to stay where he is. You know that he has no means -of gaining his bread in England, and there at least he has a -provision."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know--I know," said the lawyer, impatiently. "You are all poor--you -are all beggars--Juliet said so. But, I tell you, your brother must -come back--he is heir to a large property unjustly withheld from him, -and I will undertake to cause restitution. Why, I have got all the -papers myself! I did not know, till Juliet wrote, that your father had -any children; and your father himself was a fool, and would not let me -act for him; but would have suffered you both to live like beggars and -die on a dunghill, out of a mere idle whim. But your brother will be -wiser, and I will get back the estates for him, if he will give -me--give me ten thousand pounds."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen smiled, and in gayer days, she might have laughed, though many -things that the lawyer had said had made her shrink as if he had put -his hand upon a wound.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where is my brother to get ten thousand pounds, think you, Mr. Carr?" -she said. "We are, as you said, if not quite beggars, very nearly so, -and I think poor William would find it difficult to find ten thousand -pence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I mean--I mean," cried Mr. Carr, "he shall give me ten thousand -pounds when I have got the property for him. I will stand all the -expenses in the meanwhile. Ten thousand pounds shall cover all, and he -shall give me a bond to pay it when I have got back the property for -him. I will be like the quack doctors--'no cure, no pay,' my dear Miss -Barham. Ha, ha, ha!" and he laughed aloud. "Why the thing is as easy -as possible," he continued; "the name is William Henslow Barham in the -deed, and his name was John."</p> - -<p class="normal">"John was my grandfather's name," said Helen--"that I know very well, -because I have his miniature set in gold, with the name at the back, -with the day of his birth, and his age when it was taken."</p> - -<p class="normal">"To be sure--to be sure," said old Carr, "his name was John. It was -your great grandfather's name that was William, and the drunken clerk -made a mistake in copying the old deeds. He shall have it back, every -inch of it, and Warmstone Castle and all; and you, my dear young -lady--why you will be a fortune. There is an old settlement, I know, -providing for younger children. There will be plenty of back rents to -pay, enough to beggar him, the coxcomb! Ha, ha, ha!" and again the old -lawyer laughed at some merry subject in his own breast.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen, too, looked joyfully up, for the words of Mr. Carr awakened in -her bosom various memories of the past, and convinced her that, -whether he was right or wrong in the expectation of recovering a -fortune for her brother, there was not wanting a foundation for what -he said. She remembered, in her father's room, at the Rectory, an old -water-colour painting, dim with dust and age, but under which she had -often spelt, in early years, the words "Warmstone Castle, the seat of -John Henslow Barham, Esq;" and she remembered upon one occasion -hearing her father and a neighbouring clergyman commenting upon the -drawing, while she was standing near. Her father had then replied, in -answer to some question put by his friend, "How did we lose the -property? By the simplest process in the world. My father was a -prodigal, his son an honest man. That is the way that half the -properties in Europe are lost."</p> - -<p class="normal">The words had made an impression at the time, and Helen recollected -them now, so that she gained, in some degree, a clue to the old -lawyer's thoughts; and her heart, it must be owned, rejoiced; not for -her own sake, poor girl, but for the sake of her brother. Her fancy -was a lively one, and in an instant it presented to her mind's eye -that unhappy young man, freed from all the troubles and difficulties -in which he had placed himself, and--like him wit was afterwards the -victor of Azincourt--shaking from him the vices of his youth when -placed in a loftier station.</p> - -<p class="normal">I do not mean to say, that Helen thought not at all of herself; but -she thought of herself only for a moment, and then shrunk away from -the ideas that imagination conjured up. She could not but feel that it -would be a joy and satisfaction--perhaps I might call it, more -properly, a consolation, placed as they were at that moment--to meet -Morley Ernstein, even for a brief space, as his equal in worldly -gifts; and yet there was a voice whispered at the bottom of her heart, -that there could never be anything like pride in her bosom towards -him. Oh, could he but have loved her, how willingly would she have -been the creature of his bounty--dependent upon him for everything on -earth! From his hand she could have received all, and enjoyed all that -she did receive, because it was he that gave it!</p> - -<p class="normal">She would not pause upon such things--she dared not; and though she -mused for several minutes over the various pictures called up, she -soon returned to a consciousness of the questions which Mr. Carr was -asking her, and to which for a time, she had returned but irrelevant -answers. She promised immediately to write to her brother urging him -to return; or, at least, to tell him the facts, and let him return if -he thought fit; and the conversation soon led to her own recollections -of former times, in regard to which Mr. Carr cross-examined her as if -she had been a witness at the Old Bailey.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was something, however, Mr. Carr suffered to appear, which -surprised and puzzled Helen in some degree. His words led her to -imagine that her father had known fully that a fortune of considerable -amount was due to himself and his children, but that on some account -he had refused, or neglected to claim it. Helen enquired why, and more -than once during their walk pressed Mr. Carr upon the subject. That -gentleman would give her no distinct information, however, sometimes -saying that it was a whim, sometimes saying that it was laziness; but, -in truth, Mr. Carr did not choose to tell Helen that it was a -conscientious scruple which had prevented Mr. Barham from pursuing the -course pointed out by his legal adviser. There was something in the -truth and simplicity of that sweet girl's heart which was formidable -to knavery; and Mr. Carr at once understood that there would be -difficulties with her which might not exist in the case of her -brother, and he therefore avoided the question altogether.</p> - -<p class="normal">They strolled on slowly till it was nearly dusk and then returned -towards the house, still conversing on the same subject, when, as they -approached the front gate, walking over the crown of one of the little -hilly fields in the neighbourhood, Mr. Carr's eyes were astonished and -dazzled by the sight of a very handsome carriage standing opposite the -iron railings, with two post-horses, hot and panting with a long -stage.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who can that be?" said the old lawyer. "Thank God, I have not seen -fools in gilded carriages for a long time! It must be either for you, -Miss Barham, or there must be some mistake."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps it is Morley Ernstein!" thought Helen Barham; but she did not -speak it, for that was a name which deep feelings in her own bosom had -prevented her from uttering once to the cold ear of Mr. Carr; and now, -the very thought of Morley, probably, being there, made her heart -flutter violently.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a servant out of livery standing at the carriage door, but -no one was in the inside of the vehicle, and the iron gate was open. -In the porch of the house, too, through the avenues of yews, could be -seen one of Mr. Carr's maid-servants, as if looking out for his -return; and, as soon as they were within hearing, the girl exclaimed, -in a jargon, which I shall not attempt to transpose to these -pages--"There's a gentleman, sir, in the drawing-room, waiting to -speak with Miss Barham upon business."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Business!--Let me go in with you, Miss Barham," said the old lawyer; -"perhaps my advice may be of use."</p> - -<p class="normal">And as Helen saw no reasonable objection to be offered, she did not -object, though she would rather have gone in alone. Her heart -throbbed, and her knees somewhat trembled, but nobody could have -perceived her agitation in the easy, graceful step in which she -advanced towards the door of the drawing-room.</p> - -<p class="normal">When she entered, however, all agitation ceased, though not surprise, -for the person who came forward to meet her, with calm and tranquil -aspect, was no other than Colonel Lieberg, who had been standing near -the table, with his hat in his hand, waiting for her arrival, and -affecting to look over an old illustrated copy of Bunyan's "Pilgrim's -Progress," which the lawyer, from some unaccountable motive, would -always have in a conspicuous part of the drawing-room.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My dear Miss Barham," said Lieberg, taking her hand, with a smile, -which certainly was as bright and engaging as any that ever crossed a -mortal lip--"I dare say you are surprised to see me here; but, having -obtained your address from your friends in London, I came hither with -all speed from Doncaster, where I had some business to transact, -knowing that you must be very anxious about your brother."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen glanced her eye to Mr. Carr, who was now entering the room, and -lest Lieberg should suffer the secret of her brother's conduct to -escape, she introduced the Count to her host, saying, "Colonel -Lieberg--Mr. Carr;" and then immediately added, "I heard from my -brother, sir, the other day. He wrote me a letter which quite relieved -my apprehensions regarding him. I am very much obliged to you, indeed, -however, for the kind trouble that you have taken. Pray sit down."</p> - -<p class="normal">While she had been speaking, Lieberg with cool effrontery had measured -Mr. Carr from head to foot with his eye, and returned his bow with a -cold and stately inclination of the head. He turned to Helen, however, -as soon as he had done so, saying--"I imagine from your words that my -visit has been more useful than I expected, dear Miss Barham, for I -have outrun bad news that might have alarmed you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen turned somewhat pale; for the idea of her brother having -committed some fresh crime or folly was the first that imagination -presented. Lieberg, however, who marked each variation of her cheek, -hastened to relieve her.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do not be frightened," he said, "the danger is all past now. Your -brother is well, and in safety; I left him at Deal, two days ago, but -he was soon to follow me to London. The vessel he was in was wrecked -upon the Goodwin Sands."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen clasped her fair hands together, and looked up to heaven, in -Lieberg's eyes more beautiful than any object that he had ever beheld -on earth. Had he dared, he would have thrown his arm round her, -carried her, willingly or unwillingly, to the carriage at the gate, -and bade the postilion drive anywhere on earth, so that he might -secure possession of her. Such were the feelings which had grown up in -his heart under the influence of opposition and disappointment; but, -as is too usual, his demeanour was the most opposite that it is -possible to imagine.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come, my dear young lady, sit down," he continued, "and do not let -this matter agitate you. Poor William certainly has had a very narrow -escape, and remained all night upon the wreck with the sea washing -over him; but he was much better when I left him, though somewhat -bruised and chilled."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Poor boy!" exclaimed Helen. "Oh! how I wish I could be with him!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is what I was about to propose," said Lieberg, in a quiet, easy -manner. "I think it would be better for you to be with him, for he -really needs some nursing, and a sister's care and tenderness may make -the difference of life and death to him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good God!" cried Helen--"what shall I do? There is no one to take -care of him there!--The very maid I have taken with me--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay," answered Lieberg, "do not suppose that I would leave him -without aid, Miss Barham, if not on his own, on your account. I would -not act such a part, believe me. I left him attended by a skilful -surgeon, with plenty of money and every convenience; and in London I -gave directions to my own servants to watch for his arrival in town, -and treat him as if he were my own brother. You think me very -hard-hearted and unkind, I see."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Helen, clasping her hands again: "God in -heaven will bless you! I will pray to him to bless you for your -kindness and humanity to that poor boy."</p> - -<p class="normal">A dark shade came over Lieberg's countenance, as it had done once -before when Helen had used nearly similar expressions; but some words -she added immediately afterwards, changed his feelings, whatever they -were, making him believe himself on the point of succeeding to a -greater extent than he had even dared to hope would be the case so -speedily.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What shall I do?" exclaimed Helen. "I wonder what I ought to do?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg paused for a moment, not to seem too eager, and then -replied--"I cannot think that you will hesitate, dear Miss Barham. -Your brother wants much tendance and care, and--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Go, my dear young lady--go!" said Mr. Carr, much to Lieberg's -surprise, at finding so unexpected an ally. "His life is infinitely -valuable just now; and as you ought not to travel alone, I think I -will go with you. We will have post-chaise over to Doncaster -to-morrow, and then take the coach to London."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg's countenance fell, and his expectations likewise. He laid a -strong curse upon the old man in his own mind, and still more so, when -Mr. Carr, with the sarcastic bitterness he sometimes displayed, -added--"Colonel Lieberg would doubtless have much pleasure in -escorting you but I think my plan is the most proper one."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg was instantly upon his guard, and he replied--"Most certainly, -my dear sir; and though I should have been very happy to escort Miss -Barham, yet I could scarcely have done so to-morrow, as I have -business of importance to transact at Doncaster. There is one little -matter I have to settle with you also, Mr. Carr," he continued; "you -are, I think, the proprietor of the manors of Yelverly and Maxtown, -and wish to let the sporting for the next year?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Carr's face assumed quite a different aspect; he smiled graciously -upon Lieberg, and replied that such was certainly the case. He had -long given up shooting himself, he said--his family required very -little game; it annoyed him to deal with poachers continually; and -therefore he always liked to let his manors when possible; that the -two years' lease of them had lately fallen in, and the gentleman who -had before taken them, being but a poor, second-rate sort of man, had -not been able to keep them on. There could not be better manors in -Europe, he continued. There were the finest covers it was possible to -see; the best partridge-ground in Europe; trout-streams, where the -fish jostled each other in the river; and moors, the higher parts of -which were actually swarming with grouse and black game.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg appeared charmed with the account, regretted that it was too -late to take a canter over the ground that afternoon, but added, that -he would return the next morning to see them, that he might know how -the ground lay. He imagined, he said, that he could not find an inn -without either returning to Doncaster or going on to Bingley, and he -should prefer the latter, as it was much nearer, and there were also -two manors there which he had heard of, and which he could see early -in the morning, before he returned.</p> - -<p class="normal">Now, Lieberg had taken care to get plenty of good information at -Doncaster, and knew perfectly well that, in a sporting point of view, -the manors at Bingley were infinitely preferable to those of Mr. Carr. -Mr. Carr was very well aware of the same fact, and, bent upon taking -in Lieberg to hire the sporting of his manors, instead of the better -ones a little further on, he was himself taken in to ask Lieberg to -stay the night, which was all that his visitor wanted. It may seem -that he employed a complicated manœuvre to obtain that end, but in -truth it was a very simple one, with a man who knew the facts, and saw -profoundly into the heart, as Lieberg did.</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Carr assured him that, after the manors of Yelverly and Maxtown, -the two manors at Bingley were not worth his seeing. He took down the -county map, and demonstrated to him that the estates could not be -compared for a moment, with as much ease as any other falsehood can be -demonstrated when there is nobody to contradict it. If Coronel Lieberg -would do him the honour of taking a bed at Yelverly, they could very -easily ride over the manors in the morning, before it was necessary -for himself and Miss Barham to set off for Doncaster. The coach from -York was late ere it passed, he said, and they had plenty of time -before them.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg, on his part, affected to be afraid of putting Mr. Carr to -inconvenience--there was his servant, too; he really thought he had -better go on to Bingley for the night. But Mr. Carr was determined -that such should not be the case--a bed could be found for the -servant, too. His calculation was, that the whole expenses of -Lieberg's stay, even if his servant had beer and meat for supper, and -the Count himself took a glass of wine before he went to bed, could -not amount to four shillings, while, if he missed the opportunity of -letting his shooting for two years, it might be a couple of hundreds -of pounds out of his pocket, besides all the expenses of gamekeepers, -lookers, etc. The matter, then, was at length arranged, the -post-horses sent away, Lieberg's carriage placed in the yard, and his -valet, with his goods and chattels, brought into the house.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Count very soon suffered to appear, without saying so directly, -how much he proposed to give for the shooting he desired, and from -that moment Mr. Carr's civilities knew no bounds. Tea was sent for, -and Helen Barham presided over the "odoriferous infusion," as some -gentleman, prodigal of fine words, has called it; while Lieberg, -seating himself by her side, put forth all his powers of fascination, -which, as we have before informed the reader, were anything but small. -He had a peculiar habit of fixing his large dark eyes, with all their -deep, intense light, upon the persons to whom he spoke, not with what -is termed a stare, or anything that could be looked upon as rude or -annoying; but with a sort of thoughtful interest, as if that glance -established a communication between his soul and theirs, making -thought answer to thought, before any words were spoken. There was -something overpowering in it, especially when he used all his -exertions to please, as he did this night; and, in truth, as he sat -there, gazing on the lovely face of Helen Barham, it might well put -one in mind of the serpent fascinating the bright birds of the warm -climates of the south, by the lustre of his dangerous eyes.</p> - -<p class="normal">In this case, however, the bird had a talisman which set such magic at -defiance; and, though there was in his whole conversation and -demeanour, that mingling of sportiveness and depth; that appearance of -pride bent down to please, of confident reliance on innate powers of -mind, yet deference to the opinions of the being spoken to; that light -and sparkling brilliancy, which seems merely the sport of strength; -that combination of all things, in short, which are engaging--except -the heart--though the manifold expressions that he brought over his -fine and striking countenance rendered the beauty thereof more marked -and attractive; though every movement was full of grace and -gentlemanly suavity--though all those small cares and little -attentions, which win so much upon the heart of woman, seemed as -familiar to him as any of the daily acts of life, yet upon Helen -Barham the whole had no more effect than to make a few hours pass -pleasantly, and occupy her somewhat sad and wandering thoughts. -Reader, she was in love with another!</p> - -<p class="normal">What was the effect upon Lieberg himself? His arts recoiled and -wounded him; her beauty, her grace, her talents, her enthusiasms, all -struck and captivated him more than he had ever been with any other -mortal being; but, strange as it may seem, her indifference attracted -him more than all. He saw it--he could not help seeing it. There was -something to conquer, and he resolved to conquer it. But how?--that -was the question. It mattered not! Lieberg was one who had few -scruples of any kind. "Once she be mine," he thought, "I will soon -teach her to love me. First let me overcome her, and the rest will be -easy enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">I have said that Lieberg's presence and conversation made the hours -pass pleasantly to Helen Barham. It cannot be denied that such was the -case, and that she certainly thought him one of the most gentlemanly -and agreeable men she had ever met with, though nothing more. She grew -much more cheerful, however, under this influence, and was prevailed -upon, ere the evening came to an end, to sit down to Juliet's piano, -and sing one of those songs for which her full rich voice was -peculiarly adapted. It was at Mr. Carr's request that she did so, and -he named a song that he had heard his daughter sing.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen had sung it many a time before; and she sat down without -dreaming that either the words or the music would touch her in the -least; but the changes that are within us affect the influence of all -external things upon ourselves, fully as much as the changes of -external things affect our feelings. Since last she had sung that -song, there was a new spirit in the breast of Helen Barham, and a new -sensation--love and hopelessness. In the stormiest hours of former -days she had not given way to despair; though the spot on which she -stood was ever so dark, there had been bright hopes lighting the -future. But now, the cloud hung above the coming days--dark, -impenetrable, gloomy; and if we could make a distinction between -hopelessness and despair, we might say that the former was her state, -rather than the latter. Thus it was she herself was changed, and yet -the song seemed entirely altered to her. It spoke to her heart; it -seemed to thrill through her bosom; it was like the voice of her own -sorrows poured forth whether she would or not; and the very feeling -with which she sang, the expression she gave to each note, acted upon -herself even more than upon those that heard her, and made the tears -rise in her eyes, and well nigh overflow when she had done.</p> - -<p class="normal">The song had a great effect upon Lieberg, too; it made him sad, though -it excited him; it seemed like the voice of an angel singing to a -fallen spirit, mourning over his degradation and loss, and drawing -from his heart tears of regret, though not of repentance--the glow of -shame, though not of contrition. For, as the inspired writer -says--"There is a shame that bringeth sin; and there is a shame which -is glory and grace." There were moments with him, as with all others -like him, when he felt the bitterness of wrong, but without even a -dream of turning unto right; and one of the times at which that -feeling was most strong upon him was when he heard plaintive -music--not the music of the opera, of the concert, or the oratorio, -for those are places in which it is easy to cast aside one's heart, -and become the mere connoisseur, but the song sung in private, the -piece of music played by a delicate hand, and breathing softly to the -ear, like the low, still voice of conscience, or like the tongue of -memory, speaking to us of early days--of innocence--and of peace.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was the case now; and when Helen had done, when she had turned -away till the drops had disappeared from her eyelids, and looked round -again, she saw Lieberg sitting with his head bent thoughtfully -forward, his eyes fixed sadly upon the ground, and his whole attitude -and look displaying deep and sad abstraction. Had Helen's affections -been free, that would have been the moment in which Lieberg would have -made more impression upon her than at any other, for the widest door -of woman's heart is pity, and he seemed sorrowful.</p> - -<p class="normal">The effect soon passed away with the whole party, and not long after, -Mr. Carr left the room for a moment, to see for some supper, as he -expressed it. Strange to say, Lieberg was agitated; he, the calm, the -composed, the immovable, felt shaken in a way that he had never known -in all his earthly course before; and angry at himself for what he -called such weakness, he at length drew a little nearer to Helen's -side--who, as if placed in stronger opposition than ever to him, was -not in the least degree agitated or embarrassed and said--"Dear Miss -Barham, I wish very much to obtain a few minutes' private conversation -with you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen looked a little surprised, but answered with a degree of -calmness that provoked him--"Certainly!--I suppose about my brother, -of course--I hope there is nothing worse concerning him to be told me, -Count Lieberg!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg resolved to keep her imagination at work, and he -replied--"Nothing worse exactly, but still something of much -importance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Can you not tell me now?" she asked, eagerly; but ere he could reply, -Mr. Carr returned, and did not quit the room again, till Helen Barham -rose and proposed to retire to rest.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg and M. Carr sat for about a quarter of an hour after she was -gone, and the Count then was shewn to his room, which he found a very -comfortable one; while the display of all his dressing apparatus had -given it even an air of splendour, notwithstanding the dimity -curtains, and the plain Kidderminster carpet. The valet, Martini, was -still busy, arranging everything in the place, when Lieberg entered, -and the Count having made him take out some writing materials, sat -down, and wrote--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Dear Miss Barham--Will you kindly write underneath, merely in pencil, -at what time to-morrow I can have a few minutes' conversation with you -alone, upon the subject that we mentioned?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"There, take that!" he said, folding up the paper, "and find out Miss -Barham's maid directly; bid her give it to her mistress, and let me -have an answer."</p> - -<p class="normal">The valet took the note, and disappeared. Helen's toilette for the -night was well nigh done, and she was on the point of seeking her bed, -when she received it; and, guileless and innocent herself, without a -thought of evil, she wrote underneath the lines sent by Lieberg, in -pencil, "Whenever you like.--Helen Barham."</p> - -<p class="normal">When the note was brought back, Lieberg gazed at it with a keen, -triumphant look, though his cheek was pale with intense feeling.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you know which is Miss Barham's room?" he said, addressing the -valet.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The one at the end of the corridor, sir," said the man; "that on the -right; the opposite door leads to a store-room, I find."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And where do you sleep yourself, Martini?" said Lieberg.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I sleep just above Miss Barham's room, sir," replied the man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Get a horse early to-morrow," said Lieberg; "go over to the -post-office at Doncaster, and let me have my letters before eleven."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man bowed, and very little further conversation took place, while -Lieberg undressed, and retired to bed. His last words were, "Leave the -light burning."</p> - -<p class="normal">As soon as the man was gone, Lieberg rose from his bed again, -carefully cut the sheet of note-paper on which he had written to Helen -in two, separating the part containing his enquiry from Helen's reply, -burnt the former part, and then gazed steadfastly upon the other, -repeating--"Whenever I like! whenever I like!--I like this very -night!--This shall justify me;" and putting the paper into his desk, -he extinguished the light, and retired to bed again, but not to sleep.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">For a short space we must not only leave sweet Helen Barham in -the -house of Yelverly, but Lieberg, with all machinations in his head, and -turn to schemes of a different kind, and at a different spot. It was -in the back room of a low public house that, on the very day which -witnessed Lieberg's arrival in London from the town of Deal, there sat -together four as powerful and determined-looking fellows as ever -perhaps met, with a view of consulting upon the grand purpose of -cutting a purse, or proving that there are other people, as well as -the little god of love, who can laugh at locksmiths. In the chair--for -it will always be found, in civil and political matters alike, that -the meetings which assemble for the purpose of setting all laws and -regulations at defiance, must have their laws and regulations -likewise--in the chair of this gallant and respectable assembly, was -placed that worthy gentleman, Harry Martin, whom we have had the -honour of bringing before our readers on more than one occasion. On -his right was a gentleman who was delivering himself with a great deal -more eloquence than is usually met with, either on the hustings or the -Commons House of Parliament--though, like the oratory of those places, -his had its peculiar characteristics, which suited it to the auditory -who were to hear it--he was delivering himself, I say, of a speech, to -which I can only do partial justice, both from a want of a thorough -knowledge of the copious tongue in which it was composed; and also -from lack of space to give all the figures of rhetoric, the tropes, -the metaphors, the similes, with which it was ornamented. The tendency -of the speech, however, was to incite his hearers to undertake a great -enterprise; and an expedition against Carthage, or a war against -Philip, was never debated with more vehemence and animation.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I'll tell you what, Simes," he said--"you think that Martin and I do -this out of regard to Bill Barham; but I tell you it is no such thing. -I do it only because I think that such good luck does not fall in a -man's way every day. Did you ever see a blackbird, on a sunshiny -morning, sitting upon a bough, and singing as quietly as I might do at -the club? Well, if he sees a great fat worm wriggle out his head, down -he pounces upon him, and never ceases pulling till he has got him all -out of his hole. Well, I am the blackbird, and this Old Miser Carr is -the worm. I have sat cherupping here in London for a long while, till -I got scent of this old fellow, and now I'll pounce upon him just like -a sparrow-hawk upon a ground-lark. We will get help enough, if you -don't like to go; it's not every man that has the same liberality of -feeling as you think you have, to refuse his share of four or five -thousand pound, just for a little bit of a smash that can be done in a -minute, and we can be all over to Sheffield again, and then to London, -before any one knows that we have been in the place at all. If the -thing were to be done near town, I would not press it upon you, -gentlemen, for there's all the risk in the world of being trapped, if -we do such things too near home. But down there it's easy to do, and -not easy to discover; and when four or five thousand pound is to be -got, it's worth the touch of a crow-bar, or ten minutes' work with the -centrebit."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, but there's the job!" cried the man he called Simes; "I want to -be made sure that the thing's worth the journey. I can pick up a nice -little living here in London, without going down into Yorkshire, and -perhaps getting myself hanged into the bargain; so let me be sure, I -say, that there is this tin, or I shall say, I would rather be -excused. I am not fond of eating an empty pudding, and do not -particularly like the cordwainer's company. I don't choose to be made -a freeman of it, and wear the riband upon the jugular; not that I am -afraid, when there's anything really to be done, but I should like to -know more about the money first."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, as for that, Mr. Simes," observed a stout man, with a hawk's -nose, on his right hand; "you see I knew the country well enough, not -long ago, when I used to do a little with the thimbles, at Doncaster. -You may recollect that we, one time, had an engagement with the other -gentlemen of the course; but they were too much for us, and drove us -off with the butt ends of their horsewhips, and then we scattered -about the country. Well, I had a gossip with one of the maids there, -and sold her some real French muslin, which I picked up at York, and I -asked her all about her master, Old Carr; the miser, as they called -him in those parts, and she said he was prodigious rich, and never had -less than two or three thousand pounds in the house, besides lots of -plate."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You hear, Simes," said Harry Martin; "so you see, whatever you may -think, we don't stand only upon what Bill Barham says, because Bill -does not know whether the man's rich or poor, and only knows that he's -called Carr, the miser. However, you shan't want for full information; -Bill has promised to bring some one with him here to-night who knows -the whole place, and the people round about, for he was the Squire's -groom at Bingley, which is close by. His name's Andrews, and he's now -in another way of business, as a horse-dealer--and has done a clever -thing or two."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, yes," replied Simes, "I know him very well--a pleasant gentleman -he is. He sold old Major Groundsell the same horse three times over; -first, as a black horse, with not a spot of white about him; then with -the two fore feet white; and then he shaved him, docked him, and made -another creature of him; but the Major could never ride him first nor -last."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, nor anybody else," said another of the men present, "for he was a -plunger, a bolter, and a rearer, and when he couldn't get you off he -went over with you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A pleasant chap to be on the outside of," said Harry; "but let us -have some more lap. Mr. Simes, may I trouble you to ring the bell. Oh, -here comes Bill, and Mr. Andrews too! Mr. Andrews, good evening to -you--I hope you're well, sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">Various civilities now took place between the whole party, for the -meeting was evidently a formal one, and gentlemen of that class are -generally much more ceremonious on such occasions than people who -consider themselves better bred. Fresh supplies of drink were brought, -and as soon as the room was again clear, the subject matter of the -debate was once more brought forward, and the account given by Mr. -Tony Andrews was so conclusive, that even the cautious soul of Mr. -Simes was fired with generous ardour, and it was determined, nem. -con., that the thing should be undertaken. As soon as this was -settled, William Barham--who occupied a seat by the side of -Harry Martin, but a little behind the general line, not being one of -the active participators in the enterprise--whispered a word or two in -his friend's ear, who immediately pronounced a new oration upon the -occasion. The tendency of the harangue was to shew the absolute -necessity that there existed of setting about the thing at once; but -in this, Martin met with no opposition whatsoever, for every man -present was a veteran in his profession, and knew well that in great -undertakings promptness of execution is only secondary to maturity of -deliberation.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I'm ready this minute," said Simes--"I only want to go home to get a -tool or two."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And I think there's no time to be lost either," said the man with the -hook nose. "But," continued he, turning his left eye downward, and -looking with that orb alone into the bottom of his glass with an air -of deliberate wisdom--"but how are we to go? If we four get upon the -mail together, the guard will be in such a fuss about his bags, that -he'll blow who we are, all the way down. Then, I think, Harry, you -talked of your mare and the gig; but your mare can't run half the way, -and the gig wont hold four, though I've seen you put three into it, -and bad enough it looked."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I'll lend you a phaeton for one horse," cried Mr. Andrews--"and -if Mr. Martin can make him run forty miles before this time to-morrow, -I'll give you a note to a friend of mine at ----, who will contrive to -horse you on. You see, gentlemen, I shall expect a trifle--not so -much, in course, as if I went out of town myself, but say a tenth, and -upon honour."</p> - -<p class="normal">The claim was agreed to, upon the condition of the horses being all -ready and no mistakes made; and then the gentleman with the beak again -brought his peculiar eye to bear upon the lump of sugar at the bottom -of the tumbler, and remarked--"What I said myself, just now, gives me -a good hint. Suppose we were to get Jerry Knowles and Sam Harrison -to----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, that will never do," cried Mr. Andrews, who was a man that stood -upon his reputation, "those gentlemen have such a bad character that -we must not bring them into the business, for there's always somebody -looking out after them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's the very reason," said the other. "You gentlemen from -Yorkshire are so quick, that you see gooseberries upon cherry trees. -These are the very men who ought to be employed for what I mean. The -worse, the better for my purpose. We put dung upon a field, to make it -bear, not ice cream. What I mean to say is, that everything is good in -its way, and these gentlemen, though they certainly have gained -themselves a reputation, may very well serve my purpose."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well! what is it?" exclaimed Harry Martin, impatiently, for he -loved long speeches in nobody's mouth but his own. "Speak out, and let -us hear!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is," answered the hook-nosed man, "that they should be sent down -by coach to Doncaster, with a promise of a five-pound note each, if -the thing answers. They can go down by coach, you know, and be absent -for a day or two, and go back again, taking care to get into mischief, -and to have proof of where they were."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I understand--I understand!" cried two or three voices at once.</p> - -<p class="normal">"As a blind," said Harry Martin--"a devilish good plan; and then if -they get into the brown jug, we must give them a trifle more."</p> - -<p class="normal">Some farther conversation in the same strain took place; and then -Harry Martin said in a low voice to William Barham--"But what share -are you to have, Will?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not a farthing," answered the boy eagerly, "not a farthing. If you -get me those papers that's all I care about. He always carries them in -a Russia leather pocket-book, in a pocket inside his coat. It is a -brown pocket-book, you know, with a steel spring and clasp."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But are you sure he is there?" asked Martin.</p> - -<p class="normal">Bill nodded his head, saying, in a low tone--"Helen is there, and -he'll find a way to fix himself where she is. But the papers are all I -want."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well, you shall have them," answered Harry; "and if I find the -fellow himself, I'll put my mark upon him. Now, Simes, you get your -tools, and I'll get mine and have the horse in the phaeton before a -couple of hours are over. Let's all meet and have a little supper here -at ten o'clock, and then we can drive out pleasant by the moonlight."</p> - -<p class="normal">The rest of their arrangements were soon settled, and the party -separated; William Barham returning to his own abode, where he -remained for several days, waiting, with no light anxiety, to hear the -result of an enterprise which was first devised for his benefit.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXVI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">No sleep visited the eyes of Everard, Count Lieberg. He heard -people -moving about, doors opened and closed, and various other sounds, for -near an hour. Then all was silent, and remained so for another hour. -At the end of that time he raised himself upon his elbow and listened, -struck his repeater, which gave him half-past one; lay down for about -a quarter of an hour more, with his head resting upon his hand, and -then started, at hearing sounds again. A muttered curse broke from his -lips, and he sat up, endeavouring to distinguish what could be the -occupation of the person who was watching, and busy at that "very -witching time of night." He could make nothing of it, however, for his -ear only caught a low whirring sort of sound, very much like that of a -watch running down. He thought he heard some people speaking or -whispering also in the court, and rising from his bed he threw on his -dressing-gown, drew back the curtain of his window, and looked out.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was a bright and beautiful moonlight night as ever was seen. One -could almost distinguish the blades of green grass in the turfed court -below; but Lieberg could perceive nothing of any human being. He -found, indeed, that the penthouse of the large shed, which I have -mentioned as disfiguring the front of the building, came nearly up to -the window of his room; and he concluded that the noise he heard must -proceed from some of the early farm servants, busily at work in those -agricultural mysteries which he himself did not understand. By this -time, however, the sound had ceased, and another kind of noise -succeeded for a moment, which also came to an end, and then all was -quiet.</p> - -<p class="normal">Silence maintained her reign for about a quarter of an hour, during -which time Lieberg gazed out upon a scene which was well calculated to -afford high and holy thoughts, had his been a breast to receive them. -The beautiful orb, which, like woman's love to man, follows this -earthly sphere through all its wandering course, was shining bright -and pure, in her highest glory. The green lawn, the dark yew trees, -the sloping upland, the well-trimmed hedges, caught the rays as they -fell, and deep shadows, like those which must ever fall to the eye of -memory over various spots in the past, when we look back from the end -of a long life, were cast over the turf from every rising object. -Round about, at a distance from their queen, in the blue heaven,--for -those that were near were swallowed up in her light,--the bright -attendant stars filled up the glory of the sky, and spoke to man's -heart of the majesty of that God who made a thousand worlds, and yet -bows himself to regard the lowest being on the earth.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such, however, were not the thoughts with which Lieberg gazed. We -shall not, indeed, attempt to penetrate them; they were deep -inscrutable, and would do no good to the mind of any one. Suffice it, -that as his eye strayed upon the dark blue expanse, and seemed -shooting back rays to the bright orb above him, a dark shadow came -upon his brow, his lip curled, his head was raised higher than before, -his chest expanded, as if with some struggle within him. Indeed, it -would seem that he heard some warning voice, and succeeded in drowning -it in the clamour of pride and passion, for he muttered to himself as -he turned from the window--"So hypocrites would tell us, and so fools -would yield!"</p> - -<p class="normal">He left the curtains open, and with a quiet and steady step, walked -towards the door. As he did so, however, and as his hand was actually -upon the lock to open it, he thought he heard a faint cry, and paused -for a minute to listen. "Busy imagination!" he said, finding the sound -was not repeated; and he opened the door.</p> - -<p class="normal">All was dark, but the moonlight, which streamed through his room, -crossed the corridor and gave a faint light. There was a sudden step -heard in the passage, and Lieberg instantly drew back; but before he -could shut the door, or see what was coming, he received a heavy blow -upon the head, which struck him to the ground, and for a few minutes -deprived him of all thought and feeling. When he opened his eyes, one -of the candles on his dressing-table was lighted, and he saw two tall, -stout men, covered with smock frocks, each with a large piece of black -crape drawn over his face, busily engaged, the one in packing up -quietly all his dressing apparatus, at least that part of it which was -formed of silver or gold, whilst the other, who had, to say the truth, -opened various portmanteaus and carriage-boxes, without their master's -privity or consent, was examining a purse and a pocket-book by the -light of a candle.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg was a man of dauntless courage; and though there were two to -one against him, yet he strove to rise, trusting to his own powers to -enable him to contend successfully with the housebreakers, till he -received some assistance. The very first effort to move, however, -shewed him that his hands were tied tightly behind his back, and his -feet linked together, for which purpose two of his own silk -handkerchiefs had been employed. As soon as he found that such was the -case, he perceived that it was vain to make any effort; and he took -his resolution at once, lying as still as if he was dead, and only -watching the proceedings of the plunderers, through his half-closed -eyes.</p> - -<p class="normal">After having examined the contents of the pocket-book, the man put it -in his pocket, saying to himself, "That will do!" He then proceeded to -aid his companion, and their arrangements were very soon made. The -larger articles were tied up in a towel; Lieberg's rings, watch, seal, -and various other trinkets, were disposed about their persons, and -then, shading again a dark lantern which they had brought with them, -they approached the door, leaving the candle burning on the table. -Lieberg closed his eyes completely, and lay quite still, though his -heart burnt within him; and had there been the slightest possibility -of success, had he been able to free himself, even in a degree, he -would have undoubtedly struggled up, at all risks, rather than remain -in a situation which wounded his pride perhaps more than anything that -had ever occurred to him in life.</p> - -<p class="normal">He could hear, as he lay with his eyes shut, however, that the two men -stopped beside him; and the one said to the other--</p> - -<p class="normal">"You've done for him, Harry!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, I haven't!" exclaimed the other, in a loud, rough tone. "D--n his -heart and limbs, I have a great mind to do for him, though! He's only -stunned, like--see how he breathes! but if he were up to knowing why I -did it, I'd take and thrash him till I drove the soul out of his body. -I'll tell you what--this is the fellow that you heard of, who got hold -of the poor boy, and threatened to hang him for forgery, if he -wouldn't make his sister go into keeping with him. Now, that's what I -call being a rascal, indeed. These gentlefolks call you and I, -blackguards, and scamps, and criminals, and felons; now, I should like -to know who is the greatest rascal, who is the greatest felon--he or -I? I never take anything but a little money from those that can spare -it, but he--curse the pitiful mongrel--wants to take away a poor -girl's life and soul, and threatens to hang her brother if he wont -help him. If it were with all her own good will, I've nothing to -say; but to think to go to buy her with the price of her brother's -blood!--if that isn't a blackguard trick, I don't know what is. How it -happens that what you call gentlemen keep him amongst them, I can't -say; but I know if he were to come amongst us, we would kick him out. -But come along; if I stand looking at him any longer, I shall do a -something that I shall be sorry for. I don't like taking a man's life -in that way, unless he stands up to me; so come along, for I feel -inclined to put my foot upon him, and tread his dirty soul out, as I -would to a toad."</p> - -<p class="normal">The next moment came the sound of receding steps, and then voices were -heard, speaking in another part of the house, and then doors opening -and shutting again, and what seemed tones of lamentation and -supplication. Those were followed by the banging-to of a heavy door, -and the sound of a key turned in the lock; and then all was still, -till what seemed the noise of distant cart-wheels came upon the air, -and silence resumed her sway again.</p> - -<p class="normal">All these sounds Lieberg might have heard, and did hear as far as the -external organs were concerned, but his heart was moved with passions -far too strong for the mental ear to give heed to anything. Had it -been possible for his strong, clear mind to give way, it would have -yielded at that instant, when, lying bound and helpless, and forced to -counterfeit insensibility, he listened to the comments of a town-born -ruffian upon his own base conduct, and felt himself, in spite of all -the resistance of vanity, placed in a state of utter degradation both -in his own eyes and in those of the two men who had been gazing upon -him. There was no excess of frantic vehemence in which he could not -have indulged had he given way to the sensations of his heart; but, -instead of doing so, he lay perfectly still, concentrating all his -feelings within his own dark bosom, and continuing to shut his eyes, -as if to prevent the rage over which he brooded, from venting itself -by any of the senses whatsoever.</p> - -<p class="normal">It required nearly an hour for his feelings to become tranquil in any -degree, and during that time everything remained quiet in the house, -while the calm, sweet dawn of day came gradually on, throwing warmer -and warmer tints into the room, till at length all was sunshine. As -soon as the day was bright and high, the ear of Lieberg caught the -sound of knocking and shaking, as if some persons at the top of the -house were locked in a room, and trying to make themselves heard. Then -came the voice of his own servant, Martini, exclaiming, with his -Italian accent--"Why have you locked me in? Some one let me out! My -master ordered me to go for the letters early. Let me out, I say!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"We can't!" screamed a woman's voice, still further off; "they have -locked us in, too."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They!" exclaimed the voice of Martini, again--"who the devil are -they?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The men who broke in, and robbed the house, and murdered my master -and the strange gentleman--I dare say," screamed the woman, who had -spoken before. "Lord have mercy upon us! I saw one of their black -faces"--and she plunged into a personal description of the -housebreakers, which was certainly borrowed very greatly from -imagination, although she had preserved judgment enough, as she said, -to lie still, pretending to be asleep, and do nothing but shiver while -the men were in the room. This was the lady who exercised the function -of cooking, which is a wakeful sort of profession, there arising a -kind of salamanderishness in the nature of a cook, from living -constantly in fiery atmospheres, which prevents her from giving way -more than is absolutely necessary to the cold and frozen state of -sleep. The housemaid, however, following the characteristics of -housemaids, had slept through the whole, and did not even wake with -the cook's shivering, although the latter was her bedfellow, and added -a number of thumps in the side to rouse her, as soon as she found -courage to move hand or foot. Not even did the shouted dialogue -between her close companion and Signor Martini disturb her slumbers, -and the conversation soon dropped.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, the notes of some early country-man, whistling gaily as he -went to his labour, caught Lieberg's ear, and he now raised his voice, -calling to his servant as loud as it was possible; and bidding him, -holla out of the window, and tell the man to break open the doors. -Fortunately, Martini's ears were quick, and he heard and distinguished -his master's orders. The window was thrown open, and several loud -shouts soon brought the country-man, who was passing along the road, -into the green court, and under Martini's window.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is the matter, master?" he cried. "What do you want? It seems -Master Carr has got you there in a cage, that you are chirping out so -early in the morning."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I want to be let out," exclaimed Martini. "Break open the doors, and -let me out."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," said the man, "that wont do. We never meddle with any of -Master Carr's birds. He's a queer hand to deal with, and so I'll let -him alone."</p> - -<p class="normal">He was actually stalking off, when the head of the cook popped out of -another window, and she exclaimed--"Master Turnbull--Master Turnbull! -break open the door, there's a dear heart! There have been robbers and -murderers in the house last night; and I don't doubt you'll find -master, with his throat cut, down stairs. Do break open the door, -there's a good soul, and let us out, for we are all locked in -together; though by the blessing of God, we are all alive!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I'll go and get somebody to help me," said the man, with a knowing -look--"the fellows may be there still. It would take them some time -to break open old Carr's strong box, I take it. No one ever got in -there easily. I'll go and get help--you wait there till I come!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The poor cook had no choice except that of doing so, or throwing -herself down upon the top of the penthouse, and probably breaking her -legs; and the man began to walk away, with as slow a step as if he had -been following the plough. Fortune, however, decided that their state -of durance should not continue much longer; for no sooner had Master -Turnbull issued forth into the road again, than his eyes lighted upon -two labourers, coming leisurely up towards him. With their aid and -assistance he now determined to encounter all the powers of darkness -which might be found in Mr. Carr's house, and approached with a steady -purpose of breaking open the door, and restoring egress and regress to -the inhabitants. All violent proceedings, however, were spared him; -for, on coming nearer, he found that one of the windows, under the -shed which we have before mentioned, was wide open, a large hole -having been cut in the window shutter with a saw, and the sash having -been raised quietly by a hand introduced through the aperture.</p> - -<p class="normal">One of the labourers made his way in by this entrance; but in the -meantime, Master Turnbull had been examining the door, and discovered -that, though it was locked, the key was on the outside. This he -turned, and, accompanied by the other peasant, entered by the ordinary -passage. The first thing that the three deliverers did, was to proceed -together to that part of the house from which they had heard -articulate sounds; and the door of the maid's room, as well as that of -the valet, was opened. Forth from their several apartments issued the -male tenant, in haste to set his master free--the cook, all alive to -look after her old gentleman, as she called him--and the housemaid, -still rubbing her eyes.</p> - -<p class="normal">The countrymen followed as quick as it was in their nature, upon the -steps of Martini, to Count Lieberg's room, and arrived in time to see -the valet raise his master from the floor, and place him in a chair. -The floor of the room displayed a good deal of blood, which had flowed -from Lieberg's head, and Master Turnbull exclaimed--"Lackadaisy, that -is a bad cut!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Off my hands, off my hands, first!" exclaimed Lieberg, as Martini was -endeavouring to untie the tight knot round his ancles. "Cut it, cut -it! What matters the price of a handkerchief, in comparison with this -torture?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The man took a knife from his pocket, and, solving these Gordian knots -in the Alexandrine fashion, set his master at liberty.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, my men," cried Lieberg, "where can my servant find a -magistrate?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, there's a magistrate at Bingley, master," replied Turnbull; "but -you can't get a surgeon nearer than Doncaster."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Never mind a surgeon," said Lieberg; "never mind a surgeon, for me at -least. What has become of Mr. Carr and Miss Barham?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That we can't tell," replied one of the peasants; "the maids are gone -to see after them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let us go too; though," replied Lieberg, "they would not hurt the -lady, and I do not think from what they said, that they have killed -the old man. But let us go and see--some one had better run for a -magistrate immediately. These fellows must be pursued at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">As Lieberg spoke, he rose from the chair in which he had been placed; -but for some moments he could scarcely stand, and, motioning the rest -to leave him, he said--"Go quick, go quick! I must put on some more -clothes. Go with them, Martini, and bring me intelligence as soon as -may be."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man obeyed at once, and Lieberg proceeded to dress himself, as -quickly as possible, though it was but slowly after all--for both his -arms and feet were cramped and swollen, from the tightness of the -ligatures which had bound them. As he proceeded, he paused two or -three times in thought, and once struck his hand vehemently upon the -dressing-table, saying--"Curses upon them!--Well, well, Martini," he -exclaimed, as the man entered the room; "what have you found?--what -has happened?"</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a grin upon the man's countenance which assured Lieberg that -no life had been lost; and the Italian replied--"We found the old man, -sir, tied naked to the bed-post, cold, shivering, and miserable -enough, but he has contrived to warm himself since, for never did I -see a man in such a fury about his money and his plate? They have -cleared the whole house out, that is certain, and got some seven -thousand pounds, the old man says."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They have got five or six hundred from me," said Lieberg. "But what -of Miss Barham?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, she is very well, sir, I suppose," said the man, with a peculiar -expression of countenance. "I met her maid just now going to her room, -and she did not say that her mistress had been disturbed at all. The -truth is, sir," he added, approaching close to Lieberg, and speaking -in a low tone, "I did hear some noise in the night, but I did not know -what it might be, and thought it better to keep quiet, and take no -notice."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg shut his teeth hard, and clenched his hand with a frowning -brow; but he made no reply, and having dressed himself as far as was -necessary, issued forth and proceeded to the room of Mr. Carr. That -gentleman was coming out, with nothing but his stockings, breeches, -and a grey dressing gown on; and grasping Lieberg's arm, he dragged -him on towards the drawing-room, saying, "They have robbed me--they -have plundered me--they have ruined me, sir!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Now there was nothing on earth that excited Lieberg's scorn and hatred -so much as to see a human being give way to passion or emotion, simply -because he had great powers of concealing his own; and the agony of -Mr. Carr, on account of his loss, only served to curl his companion's -lip with a contemptuous smile, and render all his movements, as if for -the contrast's sake, as cool, as self-possessed as possible.</p> - -<p class="normal">While the old man, then, walked about the room in a state of -half-frenzied agitation, Lieberg calmly approached the table, and -after looking at him for a moment, with a cold, sneering, gaze, he -opened quietly the leaves of Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, and began to -turn over the engravings.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you know, Mr. Carr," he said, in the tone of a connoisseur, "I -think they have made a very great mistake in representing Apollyon as -so fearfully ugly. Surely, if that good gentleman, who tempts us all, -be so frightful as he is here put down, we sinners must be men of good -stomachs to run after his sweet things so greedily."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Carr thought him perfectly insane; but Lieberg went on in the same -spirit--"He should be rendered very beautiful and attractive, powerful -certainly, and well armed, but still very charming; for we all of us -paint our own particular fiend as a pleasant, sweet personage. Now -you, for instance, never represent to yourself Mammon with horns and a -tail, and all this paraphernalia of episodical horrors, fangs, and -hoofs, and claws, and all that sort of a thing. I dare say, in your -eyes, he is a sweet little cherub, with a purse in his hand, as I -paint Asteroth to myself as a beautiful woman."</p> - -<p class="normal">The miser gazed at him as if he had suddenly found himself in the -presence of a furious madman, and he exclaimed vehemently, in the -first excitement of passion, "Why I believe that you are Satan -himself! Is it not enough to drive me mad, to have lost seven thousand -pounds in one night, without having a stranger insulting me in my own -drawing-room, talking of Asteroth, and Mammon, and Apollyon, and all -the follies that ever were concocted in the brain of that half-drunken -idiot, John Bunyan?--Was it you that robbed me?--How should I know -that it was not?--I never saw you before--you may have had a hand in -it for aught I know!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is very probable," answered Lieberg, "especially as there has been -another robbery committed in your house that you are not aware of, and -that to a large amount."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Carr instantly ran to a little old oak cabinet, and shook the door -to see if it had been opened. All was safe, however, and he exclaimed, -"Where?--how?--in what room?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"In my room"--answered Lieberg; "that is to say, in the room where I -slept last night; and where, if I robbed you as you say, I committed -the folly of robbing myself also, to the amount of some six or seven -hundred pounds--It seems to me, Mr. Carr," he continued, in a quicker -but less ironical tone, "that this loss of yours has made you mad, and -that instead of thinking of recovering your property by pursuing these -men at once, with all the activity in your nature, you are, instead, -raving like an insane person. Why don't you saddle every horse in your -stable, and track the wheels of the cart in which they carried off -your goods and mine? I have already sent for a magistrate, and no time -ought to be lost in taking other measures."</p> - -<p class="normal">"True--very true, Count!" said Mr. Carr, who, now that the first burst -of passion had passed, was coming to his senses again, and recollected -that it would not do to offend a guest, who was likely to hire his -manors--"I will send out some men directly. I beg your pardon, sir, -for being so violent, but this is a great loss.--We must despatch -people to the village, too, and after we have taken all sorts of -measures, we can just go over the manors together. But, dear me, what -shall I do about going to town with Miss Barham!--Hark!--what is that? -There is somebody calling me--they do not know where to find us. -Perhaps they have found some of the plate. It was very heavy, and the -men may have thrown it away. Here I am--here I am!" he continued, -putting his head out of the drawing-room door, "What do you want with -me? Have you found anything?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, sir, no!" exclaimed the cook, running up with eager eyes. "We -have not found anything, but what is worse than finding anything in -this world, we can't find the young lady--we can't find Miss Barham!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"God of Heaven!" exclaimed Lieberg, starting forward. "Can't find her? -Are there any signs of violence?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, dear! Lord bless you, sir! they have murdered her!" exclaimed the -cook, with her eyes as big as saucers, while the housemaid gaped -behind, and Helen's maid appeared with the tears on her cheeks. "They -have murdered her, and taken away the body to bury it, like a dead -dog, in some field. I'll wager any money she saw them and screamed, -and they cut her throat. They would have cut mine, too, if I had -screamed, but I knew better."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I declare I heard her scream in the night!" cried the housemaid; "but -I thought it was only a screech owl."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Get along, you fool," said the cook, in reply, "you heard nothing at -all, not even yourself snoring."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let me pass!" said Lieberg, with his face as pale as death. "This -must be seen to at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">He was confronted, however, by Helen's maid, who said, wiping the -tears from her eyes--"I don't think they have murdered my young lady, -sir, for the shoes and the gown that she wore last night are gone, -though everything else is left, even the combs for her hair. I think -she must have seen them, too, and they must have made her go away with -them for fear she should tell."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come with me--come with me!" cried Lieberg, and away he rushed to the -room where Helen had inhabited. He found everything as the girl had -described. There were no signs of any violence, but evident proof that -Miss Barham had quitted the place suddenly, and but half-dressed. -Nothing seemed to have been plundered, however; two rings which she -had worn were on the dressing-table; and the picture of her -grandfather, which she had spoken of to Mr. Carr on the preceding -evening, lay beside them, having been apparently taken out of the -lower part of a small dressing-case, on which was inscribed--"To Helen -Barham, from her affectionate Father." Her drawing-box was also on the -table, and beside it, a sketch which she had been drawing. Signs of -her mind were in everything about the room, and Lieberg gazed around -it with sensations such as he had never experienced before. He felt -that, for the first time he loved--passionately, strongly; and when -he thought of the fair being who had so lately tenanted that -chamber--whose spirit seemed to live in every object round him--of her -grace, her loveliness, her bright mind, her glowing heart; of his own -evil designs against her, and of her uncertain fate, of her being cast -into the hands of ruffians, and left entirely to their will and -disposal, he struck his hand against his brow, and then shook it -wildly in the air.</p> - -<p class="normal">The moment after he had done so, his eye rested upon the form of Mr. -Carr, standing before him, with a bitter sneer upon his countenance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And so," said the old man, evidently finding his revenge in Lieberg's -agitation, "Mammon is a sweet little cherub--a sweet little cherub, -with a purse in his hand; and Asteroth is a beautiful lady! Well, -Count, you see, we have all our weaknesses, and I agree with you -perfectly that we should paint Apollyon good-looking, though powerful. -I do not know that you might not sit for the picture yourself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will give five guineas to any man," exclaimed Lieberg, "who brings -me a saddle-horse to the door in half-an-hour."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will--I will!" said Mr. Carr, "and give you credit for the sum, -Count, for I believe they have taken your purse as well as mine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have more that they did not find," answered Lieberg, abruptly. -"Quick with the horse then, sir! Every minute is precious. Let my -servant, when he returns, wait for me here. If I should not come till -to-morrow, let him have his food, Mr. Carr! You shall be paid. I know -the principles of your proceedings. Quick with the horse, I say!"</p> - -<p class="normal">In less than a quarter of an hour the horse was brought round, and -Lieberg was upon its back. He tracked the marks of wheels for a long -way with the skill of a wild Indian, but at length they entered upon a -high road where they were lost amongst other traces. Lieberg chose his -direction after a moment's consideration, and then galloped on till he -came to a large town.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXVII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">It is not in the least my intention to keep the reader in -suspense -regarding the fate of Helen Barham, or, indeed, of any of the other -personages in this book. It is a plain unvarnished tale, without -mystery or secret in any part of it, narrating the events exactly as -they occurred, and preparing no other surprises for the public, than -precisely those which fate and fortune destined for the actors in the -scene itself. We will, therefore, at once, with good leave and -permission, return, in point of time, to the night preceding the -attack upon Mr. Carr's house, and venture, in our ghostly capacity, -into the bedchamber of sweet Helen Barham.</p> - -<p class="normal">She was certainly as fair a being as ever was seen, and the great test -of loveliness, which the poet gave in his few masterly words, proved -hers--that ornament made no addition to her charms; that dress added -nothing, but rather took away, and that her beauty was assuredly, -"when unadorned, adorned the most." She was indeed so lovely that -eyes, not in general accustomed to contemplate or appreciate very -great refinement, admired as much as those which fed upon rare flowers -every day; and the girl whom Helen had brought from London with her, -was almost as much her lover as if she had been a man.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen's toilet for the night, though always careful, was not long; -and, it must be repeated, that in her bed-gown she was not a bit less -lovely than in the richest robe that ever came from the hands of a -Parisian artist. She had approached the side of her bed, to kneel down -and pray to that God who had mingled most unexpected mercies with his -chastisements, whom she had never forgotten in her misfortunes, and -who had saved her from temptation to sin. She was about to kneel, -then, when her maid, whom she had dismissed for the night some time -before, re-entered the room, and said--"A little note from Count -Lieberg, Miss Helen."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen turned round, perhaps somewhat impatiently, for her thoughts -were full of other things--full of all the wants and wishes which she -was about to express to the ear of God; and she asked, "What is it, -Mary?--open it, and read it."</p> - -<p class="normal">The girl obeyed, and taking the note to the light, read aloud the -words which the reader has already heard. Helen returned to the table, -and wrote her hasty reply beneath; and then dismissing the maid, knelt -down and prayed. Amongst other petitions was the request that God -would pardon, reform, and bless her brother; and her thoughts -naturally ran on, after she had done, to his future fate, and to the -hopes of fortune which Mr. Carr had held out. She could not help -thinking that his having been prevented from proceeding on his voyage -just at the time that such a discovery was likely to take place, -seemed like an interposition of Providence. Such a train of thought -induced her to take out of the lower part of her dressing-case the -picture of her grandfather, and compare it with that of her father, -which had belonged originally to her mother, and which, since her -mother's death, she had constantly worn round her neck, night and day. -The latter portrait was an extremely small miniature in a gold case, -surrounded by small brilliants; but it had been painted for her father -in the times of his happiness and prosperity, by an artist who has not -long been dead, but whose works are of high value still to all who -possess them, and who was known in his own day by the name of -Gentleman Shelley. His skilful hand had preserved the likeness in a -size scarcely greater than that of a large ring, and in comparing the -two pictures, the resemblance between the father and the son was -extraordinary.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen gazed on them for several minutes; her memory ran back to the -past, and to the last looks of that father who had been taken from her -at an hour when a father's care was most needful. No one can wonder -that her eyes filled with tears; but feeling that it was in vain to -indulge such sorrow, she extinguished the light and retired to bed, -with her own heart free from guile, though crime, in various shapes, -was hovering round--crime of one kind destined, by the wisdom and -mercy of God, to disappoint another.</p> - -<p class="normal">She lay awake for some time, for from the bosom of Helen Barham had -gone for ever that balmy peace which sheds the downy blessing on the -eyes of childhood. Passion, the scarer of slumber, had taken -possession of her bosom, and the lids that not a year before used to -drop at the first invitation of repose, now refused to shut out busy -waking thought from the troubled brain. At length, however, weariness -overcame her, and after a deep-drawn sigh, she fell into profound -sleep.</p> - -<p class="normal">How long it lasted she knew not, but when she woke, it was with a -start. There was a light in the room which dazzled her eyes, and to -her horror and consternation she beheld three men, dressed as we have -described those who entered Lieberg's chamber, except that one had for -the moment withdrawn the crape from his face, and was drinking a -draught of cold water from a tumbler which she had left upon the -table. All three were standing near the dressing-glass, and one was -examining some of the little trinkets which she had laid down. -Although they all seemed so peaceably disposed, Helen could not -restrain the first impulse of terror, and uttered a scream, though it -was rendered a faint one by an effort to repress it. The man whose -face was uncovered, instantly drew the crape over it again, and darted -towards her bedside with a crow-bar in his hand, exclaiming--"By--she -has seen me!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen, overpowered by terror, could not utter a word, but clasped her -hands in an attitude of supplication. She was so young, so beautiful, -there was so much of the light and spirit of life about her, that it -must have been a heart of stone indeed that could have struck her, as -she there lay, in her innocence and her loveliness. The man paused -suddenly, repeating--"She has seen me!" and then asked in a harsh and -grating tone, "Did you not see me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Even then Helen would not tell a falsehood, and she murmured forth, "I -did; but I will never, never say a word of it to any one."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man continued gazing at her for a minute or more, in perfect -silence, and then thrust the end of the crow-bar into his pocket, -saying, "It's no use!--I can't do it! Look ye, my young lady, I know -ye, your name is Barham--I have seen you with your brother. Now if I -spare your life, and you help to take mine, damme if you're not a -great deal worse than I am."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will never say one word against you, so help me Heaven!" exclaimed -Helen.</p> - -<p class="normal">At that moment one of the man's companions pulled him by the sleeve, -and they had a quick whispering conference together at the other side -of the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very well," said the man who had approached her bedside, "that will -do. You stay here at her door, on the outside, d'ye see, while Simes -and I go to the other room.--Don't you do her any harm, mind ye, for I -wont have her hurt. I know she's a good girl.--Come, ma'am, you must -get up, and put on some things, and go with us. They don't choose to -leave ye here. So now be quick, Don't be afraid; no harm shall happen -to ye. I give you my honour I'll take care of ye, and nobody shall lay -a finger on ye. If they do, I'll take care of them--that's all. Get up -quick, there's a good girl," he added, in a softer tone, and all three -left the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">Astonished, surprised--scarcely knowing whether she was dead or -alive--Helen lay for a moment ere she proceeded to execute the -commands she had received. She then rose, though it was with terror -and agitation, which scarcely left her power to dress herself, so -terribly did her hands tremble and her knees shake under her. Her -dress was still in sad disarray, when the man who was watching on the -outside put his head in, exclaiming, "Be quick--be quick!--we can't -stay here all night. They'll soon have done."</p> - -<p class="normal">But, as may well be supposed, his exhortations to speed only tended to -agitate Helen more, and take from her the power of making haste. A -minute after, another man appeared, who, by his voice, she recognised -as the man whose face she had seen. "Come, come!" he exclaimed, "you -must be quick."</p> - -<p class="normal">She would fain have supplicated to be allowed to remain, but he caught -her sharply by the hand, and led her along, saying, "Not a word, as -you value your life."</p> - -<p class="normal">With these words he led her down stairs, through the passages at the -bottom of the house, and to the door leading out into the court. -Another man who preceded them, darted away towards a room, which she -knew to be Mr. Carr's, and returned in a minute, bearing a large and -heavy load, and followed by a third similarly burdened. A fourth -carried another large package, and as soon as they were all collected -in the hall, they opened the door and issued forth, one of them -pausing for a moment to lock the door behind them. Poor Helen, still -grasped by the arm, was hurried along through the grass court, and -down the road, which passed before the house, to a spot at about a -hundred yards' distance, where they found a double-bodied phaeton, and -two knavish-looking horses, which apparently had come some distance -that morning. These animals had their forelegs tightly tied with -handkerchiefs, so as to prevent them from moving; but the bandages -being speedily taken off, the packages, which the men had brought, -were placed in various parts of the carriage, and Helen, in a state -scarcely to be described, was lifted into the vehicle.</p> - -<p class="normal">The man who had hitherto shewn her some kindness, now took his place -by her side, seized the reins with an experienced hand, and drove on, -as fast as the horses would go, for the space of nearly two hours, -only stopping for one single minute to let the poor animals breathe at -the top of a hill. He shewed no hesitation as to which way he should -turn, though one of the men--of whom there were three, crowded into -the second body of the carriage--called out from time to time, "To the -right, Harry--to the left!" as they approached any lane or road, up -which it was necessary to go.</p> - -<p class="normal">It seemed to Helen from the way in which they turned and re-turned, -that they were making more than one circuit, in order to evade -pursuit; and such indeed was the case, for the spot which they at -length reached was not, in a direct line, more than sixteen miles -from Yelverly, and the round they had taken must have been at least -twenty-four. Instead of slackening their pace, they quickened it -towards the end of the journey, and entered a large smoky-looking -town, just as the darkness of the night was beginning to turn grey -with the light of the morning. There was nobody stirring in the -streets, and they did not drive far into the town, stopping at a small -public house on the left hand, almost immediately after they had -entered. All was darkness in the aspect of the dwelling, but one of -the men springing down, opened the door without knocking, and Helen -was lifted out, by another, and taken into a small parlour, where she -found a rushlight on the table, the faint twinkling of which shewed -her, that the people who were with her had not yet taken the crape -from off their faces. One of the two who had got out of the phaeton -stayed in the room with her, without saying a word, while the other -ran out, and returned with a candle, which he lighted at the -rushlight; and then both quitted the parlour, leaving Helen alone, and -locking the door upon her.</p> - -<p class="normal">Nearly half-an-hour passed without any one returning, and the poor -girl remained shivering with terror, and with a sensation of cold all -over her; although it was in the midst of summer, and the morning was -in reality warm. No sounds stirred in the house--nothing gave any -indication of its being inhabited; but at length the door was again -opened, and a man appeared, in whom, though the crape was gone, and -the smock-frock was thrown off, Helen recognised without difficulty, -the man whose face she had seen in her room at Yelverly. He was a -handsome, powerful, active-looking man, with a frank and bold, but -somewhat stern countenance; and though his brow was frowning when he -entered, yet, to say the truth, Helen felt more security in his -presence, than probably she might have done in that of any of his -companions.</p> - -<p class="normal">She had been sitting upon a wooden chair, with her head resting upon -her hands, but she started up as soon as the man entered, and gazed -upon him as if enquiring her fate. The expression of apprehension upon -her face seemed to move him, and his first words were--"Don't be -afraid, young lady; I told you nobody should do you any harm, and they -shan't; so make your mind at ease on that score.--You can hurt nobody -but me, and I'll take my chance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"On my word," cried Helen--"on my honour, I will never say anything to -injure you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well, I believe you," he said; "and if you did think of -peaching, I don't fancy you will, when I give you what I've got -in my hand. Look here, Miss Barham; you know your brother's a -d--d fool.--There, that paper might have hanged him--ay, and it was -kept for the purpose of hanging him, too, by that bitter bad scamp, -Lieberg, if he did not do what was wrong by you. So there, now, take -it, and do what you like with it:" and he held out towards her the -very bill that her brother had forged.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no, no!" cried Helen, drawing back; "I do not know what to do -with it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not know what to do with it!" cried the man; "why, you foolish girl, -I'll shew you then;"--and twisting it up in his fingers, he put it to -the light. In a moment it blazed up, and the chief record of William -Barham's guilt was at an end. Though Helen dared not do that act -herself, yet her heart beat gladly when she saw it done, and starting -forward with one of her wild impulses of gratitude, she caught the -man's hand, and pressed it to her lips.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nonsense, nonsense!--don't do that," he cried, actually colouring -with a feeling of shame. "Look here! here's another paper I got out of -that same pocket-book--a sort of confession that he made your brother -sign, all for the sake of getting hold of you--I can't well wonder at -it, after all. But then he should have gone honourably about it, and -asked you yourself. However, we will serve this the same," and he set -fire to it likewise, and threw it into the empty grate. "And now," -continued he, "you're to stay here for an hour more, Miss Helen! After -that, you may go where you please--back again if you like; but take my -advice, and have nothing to do with that d--d rascal, Lieberg, for -he's as bad a one as ever lived. He would have made your brother sell -you, like a sheep, to save his neck; and that's not the way to get a -woman's love, I'm sure."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But how can I get back?" said Helen; "how can I get home?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! easy enough," replied the man; "you have nothing to do, but to -turn to the left out of the door, and walk straight up the street, -till you come to the Tontine Inn, and the coach-office; and so now -remember, that whenever you see me again, you're not to know me from -Adam."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have promised you most sincerely," said Helen, "and on my word I -will keep that promise--you need not be in the least afraid."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am not--I am not," said the man; "there, give us your hand upon it. -Stay here for an hour, and then go where you like."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he shook her hand heartily, and was turning to depart, -but Helen stopped him, saying, timidly, "But am I safe here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perfectly," replied the man--"perfectly! Why bless your little heart, -there's nobody in the house but yourself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But if the people to whom it belongs should come?" said Helen, "they -may think--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, tell them how you were brought here," said the man; "in an hour -you may say anything you please;" and he added, "we shall be far on -the road into Scotland by that time, so don't forget your word, and -good bye!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus speaking, he quitted the room, and Helen stood watching the -light, as it burnt slowly down in the candlestick.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">In an hour after the period at which we closed the last -chapter, Helen -Barham stood before a house, bearing the name of the Tontine Inn, in -the town of Sheffield. It was now broad daylight, and there were a -many artisans and people of the lower classes going about the streets -on their various employments; but yet very few of the houses and shops -that she had passed were open, it being barely half-past five o'clock -in the morning. About the inn itself there was no appearance of -wakefulness, and the coach-office was not to be seen.</p> - -<p class="normal">Poor Helen Barham's heart sunk as she gazed up at the closed shutters -and blank face of the tall house. She knew not where to go, or what to -do; and had she recollected that her appearance at that moment was -certainly somewhat wild and strange--her hair dishevelled, her bonnet -scarcely tied, without shawl or handkerchief, or gloves--she might -have felt still more abashed and apprehensive than she did.</p> - -<p class="normal">After pausing for several minutes, Helen wandered some way on, and -then came back again, when, to her great satisfaction, she saw one of -the drudging housemaids of the establishment sweeping out the passage. -Helen approached her timidly, and asked which was the coach-office?</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, bless you, Miss!" replied the girl, "it wont be open these two -hours; those lazy fellows are never in it much before eight o'clock. -The early coach started an hour ago and more; and then Mr. Jones, who -is the night clerk, goes away, and it's long enough before the others -come."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is very unfortunate!" said Helen, "for I wanted to go to -Yelverly as fast as possible."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There's no coach, ma'am," answered the girl, "till ten o'clock. But -hadn't you better step into the waiting-room, and remain there? What -coach did you come by?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I came by none," replied Helen; "I was brought here from Yelverly -against my will, and want to get back, as soon as possible, to Mr. -Carr's."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, what miser Carr's house!" said the girl. "I know that very well, -for I was born at Bingley; and I know Miss Juliet very well, too, for -she was kind to my poor dear mother before she died."</p> - -<p class="normal">"She is a very dear and good friend of mine," answered Helen; "and I -have been staying at Mr. Carr's for some time: but a party of men -brought me away by force this morning."</p> - -<p class="normal">The girl's, wonder and compassion were both moved by Helen's short -account of herself; and after a moment's thought, she said--"May be, -you would not like to go into the waiting-room, where everybody can -come in. Hadn't I better shew you into a private room, Miss? Some of -the waiters will be up soon, and then you can get some breakfast."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen very willingly agreed to this proposal, and by the maid's -assistance she was, in the space of half-an-hour, not only seated in a -comfortable room in the inn, but had before her such tea and toast as -the place could afford, and all that constitutes the inn idea of a -breakfast. It must not be supposed that Helen forgot her purse had -been left behind her, and that she had no money with her; but she had -busily turned in her own thoughts the situation in which she was -placed, and had made up her mind as to the course she was to pursue, -in order to pay both for he accommodation at the inn, and her place -back to Yelverly.</p> - -<p class="normal">The personage who attended upon the room where she sat, who brought -her breakfast, and took away the things when she had done, could not -exactly be called a dumb waiter, because he possessed at least two -words, which were--"Yes, ma'am!" and once even, in a fit of Laputan -abstraction, he replied to a question from Helen--"Yes sir!"--though, -bless her, she looked as little like a gentleman as it is possible to -conceive. From this personage, it may be easily supposed, Helen could -get but very little information of any kind, either respecting the -starting of the stages, or aught else; and, after having waited till -she heard, by the chime of the clock, that the hour of the coach's -departure would be the next that struck, she rang the bell, and asked -the waiter if she could speak with the mistress of the house?</p> - -<p class="normal">The waiter replied--"Yes, ma'am"--perhaps with the intention of -informing his mistress; but by this time, as I have hinted, it was -nine o'clock: people were coming and going; much gossiping was taking -place at the door of the house; bells were ringing, and a variety of -calls, objurgations, screams, applications, and scoldings, were flying -about the chambers and passages, fit to deafen the ears or distract -the brain of any personage but Figaro or the waiter of an inn.</p> - -<p class="normal">The consequence was, that, after waiting for about a quarter of an -hour more, Helen again rang the bell, made the same demand, and -received the same reply. "Pray do not fail," she added, in a gentle -tone; and the man hastened away, determined to obey her behest, before -he did anything else. In a minute after, a tall, fine-looking, stately -dame, dressed in black silk, with an apron and cap as white as snow, -notwithstanding the manifold globules of soot that float about in the -air of Sheffield, entered the room, and asked the young lady, what was -her pleasure, surveying her, at the same time, from head to foot, with -some degree of curiosity.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen, by this time, had indeed done something at the looking-glass, -to take away the wildness of her appearance; but still she was -conscious of not being dressed with that care which becomes a lady, -and her situation altogether gave a timidity to her tone, as she -replied--"I wished, madam, to ask a favour of you. The case is, -simply, this: I have been spending some time at Mr. Carr's, at -Yelverly; but I was brought away from that place last night by four -men, perfect strangers to me, and against my will. All my money was -left behind----"</p> - -<p class="normal">The landlady uttered an ominous "Oh!" and pursed up her lips, with a -very significant expression of countenance. But Helen hastened on to -the principal point of her story, saying--"I desire to get back again -to Yelverly, as fast as possible, and I have no means of doing so, -but----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I never lend money to nobody, ma'am," said the landlady, tossing her -head; "and I always expect people to pay for their breakfast when they -order it." And as she thus spoke, she took a step towards the door, as -if to consult with her excellent spouse upon ulterior proceedings. But -Helen was made a little angry at the worthy lady's sharp selfishness; -and she replied, in a tone of more firmness, and command--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stop a minute, madam, and be so good as to hear me out, before you -come to such rapid conclusions. I do not expect you to lend me money, -or to trust me in any way, without some certainty of being paid. I -have, luckily, one thing with me, which--though I have never parted -with it for an hour, from the time I first had it till the present -day--I must now give up for a time, till I can get to Yelverly, and -send the money to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">As she spoke, she unclasped the little gold chain that suspended her -father's picture around her neck, and looked at the miniature for a -moment, with a glistening eye. "This picture, madam," she continued, -"is set in gold--those are brilliants round it, of no great value it -is true, but more than enough to make you quite sure that you will not -lose by trusting me with whatever may be the amount of my bill here, -and with a sufficient sum to carry me to Yelverly. You will be good -enough to give me a little memorandum of having received the picture; -and as soon as I arrive at Mr. Carr's house, I will send back the -money to redeem it."</p> - -<p class="normal">The landlady's manner was altered in an extraordinary degree, as she -looked at the miniature, and saw that it was set round with a row of -small diamonds, intrinsically worth, perhaps, seven or eight guineas. -"I will speak to my husband, ma'am," she said. "Indeed, I did not mean -to say anything----"</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen bowed her head gently, replying--"There is no need of any -apology. It is very natural that you should not trust a mere stranger. -Speak to your husband by all means; shew him the picture, and tell him -what I say. Indeed, if he likes to send some one with me to Yelverly, -I shall greatly prefer it. Then he can have the money at once, and I -will pay his messenger."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh dear, no, ma'am, there's no occasion for that, I'm sure," cried -the landlady; "he'll be quite satisfied, I'm certain. I'll be back in -a minute, ma'am," and away she went to tell her husband all about the -nice young lady in No. 5, whom ten minutes before she had set down for -a swindler and a reprobate.</p> - -<p class="normal">When she came into the bar, however, she found her husband speaking -busily with a gentleman whose whole attire was dusty, as if from long -travelling.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, sir, no," said the landlord; "I have heard nothing of the -kind--Lord have mercy! you had better go to the magistrates. What do -you think, my dear? They have broken into Mr. Carr's house, at -Yelverly, and carried off every thing out of the place."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then I'll bet any money," cried the landlady, "that this here picture -is a part of the stolen goods.--But no, that can't be it, neither; for -the young lady wants to go back again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What young lady?--What picture?" cried Lieberg eagerly, for he it -was. "Let me look at it!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, sir," rejoined the landlady, handing it to him, "the young lady -says she was carried away by force by four men against her will. To -say the truth, I did not believe it at first----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then you were a fool for your pains!" thundered Lieberg. "It is Miss -Barham! Where is she? Poor girl, what she must have suffered!" and -Lieberg, who without scruple would have wrung her heart, and condemned -her to a life of regret and remorse, did, nevertheless, feel sincere -compassion for Helen Barham under sufferings not a thousandth part so -intense.</p> - -<p class="normal">The landlady, however, who did not at all like being called a fool in -the presence of her husband and her waiter, determined to stand up for -Helen Barham's dignity, now that she was thoroughly convinced that the -young lady was what she professed to be; and to Lieberg's repeated -question of "Where is she?" she replied, "I must first ask the lady, -sir, whether she desires to see you. What name shall I tell her?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Colonel Lieberg," he exclaimed, sharply. "But, as there is no doubt -about her seeing me, I shall accompany you."</p> - -<p class="normal">The landlady led the way to No. 5, and opened the door sufficiently -wide to admit her own portly person, but not to let Lieberg pass, -saying, at the same time, "Madam, if your name is Miss Barham, here is -a gentleman, who calls himself Colonel Lieberg, wishing to see you."</p> - -<p class="normal">In an instant the warnings of the housebreaker came back to Helen's -recollection, but more powerfully still the words of Morley Ernstein. -Her countenance spoke at once plainly that her visitor was not one -whom she most eagerly desired to see, but, ere she could reply, -Lieberg pushed the door impetuously out of the landlady's hand, and, -passing by her, advanced at once towards Helen.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Dear Miss Barham," he cried--"we have almost been in despair about -you. This is, indeed, joyful to have found you so soon. I have been -galloping about the country these last three hours in search of you."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was so much real joy and satisfaction in his whole look, that -Helen could not refuse to give him her hand; and the landlady having -shut the door, Lieberg, in the excitement of the moment, pressed his -lips upon it, resolved to hazard everything at what he believed to be -a favourable opportunity.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen would have drawn away her hand instantly, but he held it firmly, -and led her to her seat, saying--"Oh, Helen, what have I suffered on -your account this night!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen coloured and trembled, feeling that a moment of trial was -approaching. She replied gravely, however--"I am extremely sorry that -you should have been put to any pain on my account; but as the stage -will soon be departing for Yelverly, I must settle with the people -here, and take my place."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay, Helen," said Lieberg, "you must first listen to me for a -moment."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen turned very pale; but he continued, eagerly, though in that -bland, persuasive tone which he knew well how to use, his voice -assuming the softest modulations, his brow cleared of every thing that -was stern and dark, his magnificent features glowing with animation, -but full of gentleness and entreaty, his eyes beaming like stars in a -dark night, but with a subdued and gentle light.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Helen," he said, "dear Helen, you must know, you cannot but know, -since last night, that I love you; deeply, passionately, tenderly; -with an ardour, strength, a profoundness that I never felt before -towards any woman. I know not what it is, or how, but you have -fascinated me--enchanted me. That song which you sang last night -seemed to waken in my heart feelings that had slept for years--those -early dreams of love and ecstatic joy with one adored being, separate -from all the rest of earth, bound to her by none of the cold worldly -ties that unite the dull earthly insects which crawl about the world -and call themselves society, but united to her by the bond of strong -affection--of passion, powerful, overpowering, everlasting, -indestructible--of passion, neither to be changed by the world's cold -maxims, nor restrained by idle ceremonies or empty laws. Oh, Helen, -listen to me! Turn not away your head--let not your cheek grow pale as -if you thought I wished to deceive or to wrong you, for I am yours -altogether, and you shall dictate anything to me that you, please. You -shall command we in all respects; I will be your slave, the creature -of your will. I, who never bowed my head to human being--who never -found any to resist or to control me--I will take my law from your -lips, and do in all things as you would have me!--Only, only, do one -thing. There are circumstances which I cannot explain now, for want of -time, but which shall be entirely made clear to you as we go. Only, I -beseech you, let me order horses, and go with me at once to London and -to your brother. I would fain have you, too, go on with me to the -Continent; but you shall stay in London if it please you better. All I -have is at your command, myself, my fortune, my life itself; and you -shall always dictate to me every thing that you would have done, and -it shall be done at once. Helen, dear Helen, come with me! True -passion bears no cold delay, and a rapid resolution, taken in a moment -like this, when love speaks out, when opportunity presents itself and -there is nothing to oppose, often goes on to happiness the most -intense, the most durable, when, if we lose the instant, we give -ourselves up to grief for our whole lives. Nay, shrink not from my -arms, beloved--for once let me clasp you to a bosom that burns for you -alone."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen did shrink from him, however, farther and farther, as with -increasing energy and vehemence, with his eyes lighting up, his words -rushing rapidly from his lips in a thousand varied intonations, and -his whole spirit moved by the strong feelings within him, he poured -forth his passionate solicitations. She shrunk from him, I say, -farther and farther, with the small, finely cut ear glowing with the -scarlet blood, her cheek as pale as death, her lip quivering, her eye -fixed upon her suitor, in terror, surprise, and horror. She could -hardly speak. But however Lieberg veiled his purposes under vague, -though glowing language, warned as she had been, she understood him -only too well, and saw that all which had been told her was true.</p> - -<p class="normal">Her lips moved for a moment without uttering a sound, but at length -she murmured, "Monster!"--and turned to ring the bell.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg, however, caught her hand and stopped her, and she stood -gazing at him with such a look of horror and pain as, in the moment of -the great temptation, the mother of mankind might have worn, had some -angel whispered the real nature of the being to whom she listened, and -displayed to her mind's eye the endless misery, through unnumbered -generations, that was to follow on man's fall.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Beware!" said Lieberg, at length, as he marked that look and read it -aright; and his tongue, while he spoke, lost its poisonous melody, his -face its fascinating smile--"beware what you do! Remember, Helen -Barham, that you are in my power. The moment is now before you to -choose between my love and my hate. Be mine, and I swear by all that I -hold sacred, such a life of joy and love shall be yours as even your -fancy could never dream; but if you reject all that I offer, recollect -that your brother's fate is in my hands, his life, his shame, ay--and -your own fate, too--that reputation of which you may be idly vain. -Disappoint me now, and men shall laugh, and say that she was Count -Lieberg's paramour; but that he tired of her, and cast her off in a -single day. Your fate, I say, as well as his, is in my hands."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mine, mine!" cried Helen, with astonishment and terror. "Mine in your -hands? What is it that you mean?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay," said Lieberg, softening his tone again, "though what I say -is true, think not of it. I meant but to shew you what was in my -power, Helen. I have not thought of using that power. To wring or pain -your heart would pain my own, dear girl. Forgive me for what I have -said--think that it was but the mad vehemence of passion. Oh, feel for -me, Helen!--you that seem made for love and joy, feel for the intense, -the burning love you have inspired. Think not that I would hurt your -brother. On the contrary, I have tended him with kindness and care, -when there was no one to tend him but myself. I have furnished him -with all that was needful for his happiness, and it is his first wish -and desire you should be mine. My vehemence has frightened and -surprised you, I see; but you know not what it is I feel. Sit -down again, dear girl, and listen to me--listen to me but for a -moment----."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, Count Lieberg," she replied, firmly, "I will not! I will neither -sit down nor listen to you at all, but upon one subject. I can easily -conceive that you suppose my brother's fate entirely in your hands; -but, thank God, my reputation is not; and I believe you speak a -falsehood when you say that you can make even the general world, much -less those that love and esteem me, believe that I ever was the -paramour of a man whom I hate and despise. I believe, sir, that you -have told a gross falsehood, for the same base purpose for which you -have threatened a brother's life to the ears of his sister."</p> - -<p class="normal">The look of Helen Barham had changed under the emotions that she felt. -Instead of fear, and timidity, and horror, it bore now the look of -indignant pride. Her head was raised high, her beautiful nostril -expanded, her bright eyes flashed, and Lieberg, though all these signs -of anger were displayed against himself, felt passion but the stronger -in his heart.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay, Helen," he said, in a quick, but half sportive tone, "if -you so dare me, dear lady, I must shew that I threaten not without -power. Look at these few words of written invitation, in Helen -Barham's hand! Sent to me by my own valet last night, after all the -household were in bed--'<i>Whenever you like.--Helen Barham!</i>'"</p> - -<p class="normal">To Lieberg's surprise, the horror and detestation which became the -predominant expression of Helen's countenance, was ummingled with -anything like fear.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are a fiend, indeed!" she cried. "You are a fiend, indeed! But, -like the machinations of all other fiends, your devices are controlled -by the good will of God! When the note that you wrote to me last -night, and which you have torn off from the answer, was brought to me, -know that I was not alone. It was read by another to me--by one who -can swear to every word of it. Thus I set you at nought, scorning you, -as well as hating you, feeling as much disgust as horror at your -conduct. Let me tell you more, Count Lieberg, that, were there no -other man on earth, I would regard you with the same contempt that I -do now; that you are personally odious to me; and that were you at my -feet to-morrow, with proposals as high and pure, as those of to-day -are base and infamous, though I were a beggar in the streets, seeking -my bread from door to door, I would spurn you from me, with the same -scorn that I do now," and passing him boldly, she rang the bell.</p> - -<p class="normal">The moment that Helen's hand had left the bell rope, the stately old -landlady burst into the room, with her face all in a glow.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You shan't be injured, or insulted, in my house, ma'am," she said. "I -beg your pardon for listening, ma'am, but I thought you might want a -little help from what I saw. The gentleman may take himself where he -likes, but he shan't affront you any more here."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen burst into tears at this unexpected support; and the good woman, -who really, except in money matters, deserved that name, held out her -arms towards the agitated and beautiful being before her, saying, in -the tone of a mother--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come here to me, my dear! You are a good, virtuous girl, and deserve -to be taken care of. The coach will go in a quarter of an hour, and my -son, Will, shall go with you on the top, to see that no harm comes to -you. There's the picture, my dear--we don't want it; and as for the -gentleman, he had better budge, for if my husband had heard all that I -have heard, he would have leathered his jacket."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg gazed at her for a moment, with a look of calm scorn, for his -self-possession had been restored in a moment.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My good woman," he said, "you are a very foolish person; and, if you -meddle in this way, with things that don't concern you, you will burn -your fingers some day. Miss Barham, we shall meet again, when you will -think differently."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Never!" said Helen; and Lieberg, without more reply, quitted the -room, and ordered his horse over to the other inn.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Feed him," he said, to the hostler who took him, "and bring him round -as soon as he is ready."</p> - -<p class="normal">He then called for a private room, and buried his eyes in his hands -till the sound of a coach setting out from the office opposite made -him look up. Then biting his lip, without any other gesticulation, he -muttered--"Curses upon it all!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXIX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">In passing through life we must have remarked, not only that -the -satirical maxim of La Rochefoucauld is true, with a great number of -people, in regard to the pleasures that they derive from the -misfortunes of their friends, but that the general world contrives to -extract an infinite quantity of amusement, delight, and satisfaction -from all the evils that are going on throughout the universe. What a -fund of pleasant excitement is there to the minds of many, in that -column of a newspaper, headed "Accidents and Offences." What -gratification to multitudes in a child being scalded to death, a house -being burnt down, a retired tradesman, in a solitary cottage, -undergoing the process of murder! And such is the joy and delight the -great mass of mankind in crime and sorrow, that I do really -believe, if any person could invent an unheard-of iniquity, or -contrive to die some unknown kind of death, not only would rags of his -clothes be kept as relics, locks of his hair preserved in lockets, or -the rope that hanged him be sold at a guinea an inch, but a very -handsome subscription might be gathered, to raise a statue to him, as -the man who furnished the public with a new kind of excitement.</p> - -<p class="normal">Fie upon it! The morbid taste for stimulating things, that habitual -drunkenness of the mind, which is increasing day by day more and more -throughout the whole world, excluding the sane, the simple, and the -just, must end in moral death--the sad, worn-out, apathetic death of -the spirit drinker. On my life, I have a great inclination to shake -hands with Father Mathew, and preach a mental teetotalism!</p> - -<p class="normal">The prevailing spirit, the love of excitement, which is in every human -being, was not wanting even amongst the quiet fields and villages -around Yelverly; and the news of that famous burglary having spread -far and wide, the retired house of Mr. Carr became an object of -attention and visitation, for all the places in the neighbourhood. -Magistrates flocked in, farmers and yeomen made their appearance, -constables, from every place in the vicinity, travelled thither -without loss of time; and though many a one winked the eye and laughed -at Old Carr's misfortune, the general pleasure derived by the -multitude from an extensive robbery in that part of the country was of -the higher and more interesting kind called excitement.</p> - -<p class="normal">The retired lawyer, himself, as his first step, shut up his house, and -would let no one in but those whom he knew; and, after he had -collected his thoughts in some degree, he visited various parts of the -building, opened different drawers and secret cupboards, and found, to -his great relief, that the robbers, from their ignorance of his -habits, had missed many of the stores which he had fancied carried -off. He then gathered together his papers, which were scattered about -his room, examined the marks and memorandums upon them, and, to his -great joy, perceived that they were all correct. Another thing tended -to relieve him from a still greater portion of the load of care, which -was, that the plunderers, with a fine apprehension of detection, had -displayed a goodly contempt for bank-notes, so that two packets, -amounting each to five hundred pounds, were found cast down upon the -floor without the slightest sign of veneration.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the midst of these operations, several magistrates poured in upon -him, and all the local wisdom of the neighbourhood was expended during -the next three hours, in consulting and considering what was to be -done. As will ever be the case where there are manifold persons, each -of whom has as much right to speak as another, a great deal of -nonsense was talked, and a great deal of time was expended to very -little purpose.</p> - -<p class="normal">The abduction of poor Helen Barham formed one of the principal topics -with the magistrates; and Mr. Carr himself expressed much greaser -anxiety upon the subject than he had ever been known to evince in -regard to anybody, except his daughter. By the time that the premises -had been thoroughly examined, the means by which the robbers had -obtained an entrance clearly ascertained, and the route that they had -taken in their escape rendered as confused and puzzled as possible, by -conflicting testimonies and innumerable conjectures. Count Lieberg's -servant had returned from Doncaster, bringing information from some of -the magistrates of that place, that three persons of very suspicious -look, and one of whom was known to be an infamous character, had -appeared in that town on the preceding day, and had suddenly -disappeared towards night. All attention was now turned towards -Doncaster, every man who thought himself an active magistrate, or who -wished to establish for himself such a reputation, set off instantly -for that town, while the rest retired to their own houses, satisfied -with having talked much and done nothing at all, as is too much the -case with county justices and with members of parliament.</p> - -<p class="normal">When they were all gone beyond recall, and Mr. Carr was left alone, -the real track of the plunderers, as so generally happens, was -discovered at once by no other event than the passing of the Sheffield -coach, and the arrival of Helen Barham. Mr. Carr was really delighted -to see her, both because she had proved a pleasant companion to him, -and because in the prospect of managing her own and her brother's -affairs, he foresaw, or thought he foresaw, the means of recovering, -and more than recovering, the riches which the housebreakers had -carried away.</p> - -<p class="normal">Many and eager were his questions, to all of which Helen gave a -sincere answer, telling exactly what had occurred, with the exception -of those points which referred to her brother William. She related how -she had seen the man's face in her bed-room; how she had been forced -to rise and accompany the robbers; how she had pledged herself most -solemnly never to give evidence against the man at whose intercession -her life was spared; and how she had taken refuge at the Tontine Inn, -and come thence by the stage to Yelverly. She would willingly have -ended her history there, but Mr. Carr asked, as soon as she paused, if -Colonel Lieberg, then, had not found her?</p> - -<p class="normal">"I regret to say he did, my dear sir," replied Helen, with much -agitation; "he found me alone and unprotected, and took that -opportunity, when I most needed comfort and help, to insult and grieve -me. Had it not been for the kindness of the people of the inn, I do -not know what I should have done. I trust," she added, with the tears -in her eyes, "that he will not return here while I remain. If he have -any feeling of honour or shame left he certainly will not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But the manors! my dear Miss Barham--the manors!" cried Mr. Carr; -"what can be done about the manors? Oh, he certainly must return here, -for he has left his carriage and his servant."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then if he does," said Helen, "by your permission, my dear sir, I -will remain in my own room till he is gone, and will not see him on -any account whatsoever."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, quite right--quite right, my dear Miss Helen," replied Mr. Carr; -"the foolish fellow doubtless thought you poor and friendless; but he -will find himself mistaken; and when he sees you with seventy or -eighty thousand pounds, or, may be, with a hundred--for I have not -calculated what the arrears will be, and, indeed, cannot, till we -enter into the accounts fully--he will change his tone, I am sure."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen smiled sadly, for, notwithstanding the belief, which had gained -a strong hold of her, that there might be some truth in what Mr. Carr -said regarding the claims of her family to greater fortune than they -possessed, she could not help looking upon his expectation of -recovering it as a mere dream.</p> - -<p class="normal">"If he were to alter his tone," she replied, "I should certainly never -alter mine. But I will go now, Mr. Carr, and write at once to my -brother. I have many important things to tell him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Bid him come down here, with all speed," exclaimed Mr. Carr--"bid him -come down here, with all speed. He will soon recover his health here, -and if he do not, you will do quite as well; the entail was in the -female line, as well as the male, and, indeed--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But I thought you proposed, Mr. Carr," said Helen, "to accompany me -to London. I know that it is too late to-day, and, indeed, I feel too -faint and weak to undertake such a journey without repose; but I did -hope that you might be able to go to-morrow, for I only intended to -write to my brother to comfort him in the meantime. You heard what -that miserable man said about his state of health."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, he exaggerated--he exaggerated!" answered Mr. Carr. "Don't you -see, he had an object to gain? But, however, I will go up, if you like -it; and, indeed, perhaps it would be the best way. Then we could -settle all things with your brother speedily, and I could set the -Bow-street fellows upon the track of these villains who have carried -off so much of my property. You say very right, my dear, it will be -the best way, and we will go to-morrow--that is, if you be well -enough, for we must not risk your life too. You must take care of -yourself--you must take care of yourself, my little lady, for you will -be a rich dame some of these days, and life becomes well worth -preserving, when people have plenty of money."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen gazed down upon the ground, and her eyes filled with tears, but -she merely replied--"A little repose is all that I require--I shall -be quite able to set out to-morrow; but now I will go and write to my -brother, and pay the young man from the inn at Sheffield, who is -waiting in the kitchen, I fancy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, do, my dear Miss Barham--do," said Mr. Carr. "I would offer to -pay him, but, really, these men have taken all the money I have got."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That would be quite unnecessary," replied Helen; "I do not think they -took anything from my room, and I have, luckily, plenty of money in my -desk."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Plenty?" said Mr. Carr, with a smile. "Never think you have plenty, -my dear Miss Barham; you will always find more than enough to do with -it, if you had twenty times as much."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen made no reply, but retired to her chamber as she had said, and -after having paid the boy from Sheffield, wrote a long letter to her -brother, and another to Juliet Carr. To the first she told all that -had taken place between herself and Mr. Carr, regarding the fortune -which he said was unjustly withheld from them. She entered into the -whole of her own recollections, and the facts which induced her to -believe that there was some ground for the statements of the old -lawyer, and at the same time she informed her brother of her -approaching return to London. The most important intelligence of the -whole, however, was conveyed in a postscript of a few words, to the -following effect:--"You need no longer be under any apprehension -regarding the consequences of an act that you lately committed, which -you once told me of. Both the papers were destroyed before my own -eyes, by a man who seemed to know something of you, and who had -obtained possession of them in the commission of another crime."</p> - -<p class="normal">The letter to Juliet was upon other topics, though she noticed briefly -all that had occurred at Yelverly, and stated that she was about to -return to London, accompanied by Mr. Carr. In the end of the letter -she said--"Count Lieberg has been here, and has justified too sadly -the opinion which Sir Morley Ernstein and Lady Malcolm entertained of -him. He has insulted me cruelly, dear Juliet; and, I do not know why, -but since I have had your friendship, and the support and protection -of one who is, I know, very dear to you, my spirit has risen, even in -spite of much sadness; and those insults which, a few weeks ago, I -looked upon as a part of my fate, a misery that I was born to endure, -I now feel angry and indignant at, and my heart burns within me. It -seems as if being admitted to call myself your friend, has given me, -back a dignity of feeling that misery and friendlessness had before -taken from me. The poor teacher of music and of drawing, who could -hardly gain enough, by her utmost labour, to keep herself and her -brother from absolute want, seemed to consider herself, as well as to -be considered by others, as merely a being to be pursued by the wicked -and licentious, and with no other task before her, than to struggle -and resist, till age came to relieve her from any share of -attractions, without feeling the least anger or surprise at views and -proposals the most degrading. Now, however, it is different, and I -feel the insult that this man has offered me to the very heart. -Nevertheless, my dear Juliet, you must, on no account, mention this to -Sir Morley Ernstein; we both know his noble and his generous nature -too well to doubt that it might, and very probably would, produce a -quarrel between him and the other, which might end fatally. Just in -the proportion as I am unprotected, poor, and without any claim to the -generosity and friendship of any one, would he think himself called -upon to resent an injury and an evil inflicted upon her to whom he has -shewn so much disinterested kindness. I tell it to you, because I will -conceal nothing from you; but you must on no account let him hear one -word of what I have said, as you value your own peace, and as you -value mine."</p> - -<p class="normal">Before Helen had concluded her letter to Juliet Carr, she received a -message from the old lawyer, informing her that Count Lieberg had sent -somebody from Sheffield with post horses, to bring away his carriage -and servant, as he did not intend to take the manors or return to -Yelverly; and about half-an-hour after she was summoned to the -drawing-room to speak with two of the magistrates, who had been -recalled by Mr. Carr. Their object was, of course, to ascertain in -what direction the house-breakers had fled, and by what signs they -could be recognised. In regard to the first point, Helen made a clear -statement of what had taken place, and repeated what the man, Harry -Martin, had said, respecting their soon being safe in Scotland, -without at all imagining that these words had been spoken for the -express purpose of misleading; but the information that she could or -would give in order to identify the plunderers was very small. She -described the phaeton generally; but as to the colour, or any other -distinctive mark, she could say nothing, having only seen it in the -night, and being too much agitated and frightened to take any great -notice if it then. The forms and features of the men had been so -thoroughly concealed by the smock frocks which they wore, and the -crape which was drawn over their faces, that Helen said truly, she -could tell nothing regarding them in general by which they could be -distinguished from any other men.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But," exclaimed one of the magistrates, "you saw one of them, Miss -Barham! Let us have an account of him, at least. It very often happens -that one being known, his accomplices are speedily traced."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But I told you, sir," replied Helen, apparently with some surprise at -the request, "I told you that I had promised most positively never to -say anything by which he could be recognised."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But of course," cried the magistrate, "you do not intend to regard -such a promise as binding!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"As much as any other promise I ever made," answered Helen; "he might -have taken my life if he had liked it, and----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But listen to me, my dear young lady," said the other magistrate, -"promises made under threats and intimidation are always held to be -invalid. Neither law, religion, nor justice, recognise them for a -moment."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I really do not know," replied Helen--"I am no great casuist in such -matters. The man did not threaten me in the least degree, but he might -have taken my life if he had thought fit. If he had done so, the law -would have assigned to him no worse punishment than for breaking into -the house; and on no consideration whatsoever will I give the -slightest indication by which he may be discovered."</p> - -<p class="normal">The magistrates then took another turn, and tried to alarm her, -saying, they had power to compel her to answer their questions, that -she might be treated as an accessory after the fact. Helen, however, -turned to Mr. Carr, asking--"Do you suffer this, sir? You are a -magistrate also, I think, and I must know if you wish me to be treated -in this manner."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no, my dear young lady," said Mr. Carr, moved by very different -feelings from those which either Helen or the magistrates attributed -to him, and, in fact, looking upon her already as the heiress which he -presumed her to be. "No, no, my dear young lady, this shall not be -done. Gentlemen, Miss Barham must either be persuaded by fair means, -or must be silent at her will. I cannot have her bullied."</p> - -<p class="normal">The two magistrates seemed somewhat offended at the term which Mr. -Carr employed; but the ci-devant lawyer was quite chivalrous in -defence of his young friend, quoted all sorts of law to prove that his -brethren of the bench were perfectly in the wrong, overwhelmed them -with a multitude of obsolete terms, and would hear no argument in -reply whatsoever. The two magistrates took up their hats, mortified -and annoyed, and, with the dogged stalk of two British mastiffs, -marched out of the room and the house, saying, "that Mr. Carr might -manage the affair as he liked best himself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will tell you how I will manage it, my dear Miss Barham," he said. -"I will put two of the Bow-street runners on the track, and promise -them a percentage on every ounce of gold and silver they recover. Much -better is it for me to lose a little and get back the money, than to -pay a great sum and hang them all. These county magistrates, with one -thing or another, would let them go on till all the money was spent, -and all the plate melted; but the Bow-street officers will take care -of that, if they hope to have a share; and so we will set out for -London to-morrow without fail."</p> - -<p class="normal">The good gentleman's purpose was executed, and he and Helen proceeded -to Doncaster, and thence to London, without pause or delay. Mr. Carr -himself had a strong objection to inns and hotels, and he consequently -drove at once to Lady Malcolm's house, having a sort of claim to the -hospitality of that lady, as his wife's first cousin, which he did not -fail to put forward on all occasions when he visited London. To his -surprise, and that of Helen's, however, a maid-servant opened the -door, and informed Mr. Carr that her lady, Miss Juliet, and Sir Morley -Ernstein, had gone down together to spend a few days at the little -watering-place called Sandgate.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen remarked that there was something in this intelligence which -made a scowl, such as she had seldom or ever seen there before, come -upon the face of Mr. Carr.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Gone down to Sandgate with Sir Morley Ernstein?" he exclaimed, -swearing a desperate oath at the same time. "That is strange enough!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, but she will be up in a day or two, sir," replied the maid, who -knew Mr. Carr quite well, and attributed his anger to a wrong cause; -"and I am sure she will be delighted if you will stay here till she -comes; for she always said that a bed was to be ready for you--and -Miss Helen, too, I am sure she will be glad to see. I hope you are -well, ma'am, and have passed a pleasant time in the country, though -you look a little tired like--But I'll go and call the housekeeper."</p> - -<p class="normal">That functionary accordingly appeared, and confirmed all the maid had -said; and though Helen had some hesitation as to remaining at Lady -Malcolm's house without an invitation from its mistress, yet the -assurances of the housekeeper, who knew her lady well, were so strong, -and Mr. Carr insisted so vehemently, that she yielded, and took up her -abode in the little room which she had tenanted before, close to that -of Juliet Carr.</p> - -<p class="normal">No sooner was Mr. Carr installed, than he wrote a note of the most -pressing kind to his daughter, telling her that he had come to London -on business of great moment, and begging her to return instantly to -meet him in the capital. He entered into no explanations of his views -whatsoever, but requested Juliet, as probably it would be inconvenient -for Lady Malcolm to come up with her, not to make any delay on that -account, but to set out at once, immediately after receiving this -letter.</p> - -<p class="normal">This being done, and having taken some refreshment, he proceeded at -once to the house which Helen had formerly inhabited, where her -brother William, who had received her letter in the morning, was -waiting in a state of excitement of joy and astonishment impossible to -describe. Helen, who accompanied Mr. Carr, remarked one thing, -however, which made her fear that her brother had once more fallen -amongst bad associates; he was extremely anxious to go into the -country, vowed that though Lieberg was a liar, as he termed broadly -it, and he had never been seriously ill at all, it would do his health -good to be away from London; and added, that if Helen had only given -him time, he would have come down to her in the country, without -giving her the trouble of coming up to him.</p> - -<p class="normal">Like all weak persons, William Barham was ever ready to attach himself -to any one who would flatter his hopes or his wishes, hating -unpalatable truth of all kinds, almost as much when it regarded his -own situation, as when it affected his own conduct. With Mr. Carr he -was delighted, vowed that he was a very honest fellow--that he would -put himself entirely in his hands--and that there could be no earthly -doubt that he was quite right in regard to the view he took of the -case. Thus, after a long conversation, they parted, and Mr. Carr -returned with Helen to Lady Malcolm's house, enjoying the idea of -having so soft a person to deal with, almost as much as if he had -still been a solicitor in full practice.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen, however, was sad and dispirited, and felt that the tone of her -brother's conversation altogether was painful and distressing. Some -time had now elapsed since she had seen him; the effect of the country -on her mind had been calm and refreshing; and all that was dark and -bad, all that was weak and foolish in the character of her brother, -seemed to stand out the more prominently from the state of her own -mind. When we wish to see an object distinctly through a glass, we -take care to wipe it clean from all specks and dust; and there is -nothing that clears the mental vision so much of all the dark and -dimming things of earthly life, as calm communion with the spirit of -God's works in scenes where man's handy-work has wrought but little.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">In looking at one of the finest and most sunshiny pictures of -Claude -Lorrain, and in marking the calm and gentle brightness which his -pictures generally display, it has often struck me that they afforded -a fine image of happiness--of that pure dreamy happiness which is -sometimes the portion of youth. The calm, refreshing shades in the -foreground--shades produced not by clouds or by storms, or by the -proximity of night, but by some sweet object softening the light, and -mitigating the heat--the immense boundless distances, blending into -the blue sky, Earth losing itself in Heaven--the prospect embracing -every sort of object that can enchant the eye, fields, and plains, and -hills, and woods, and villages, bridges, and streams, and lakes, in -gay confusion, and ruined temples waking sweet associations of the -past, and man's living habitations giving the idea of dear domestic -peace, each catching the bright sunshine, and each beautiful, though -vague--the poet-painter surely intended all this as the symbol of a -happy dream, where present enjoyment is calm though full, and every -object of desire and hope is stretched out before the future, and -lighted by the sun of youth and fancy, till the remote end mingles -with heaven itself.</p> - -<p class="normal">The three days that Morley Ernstein and Juliet Carr had passed at -Sandgate, had been, like one of those pictures of Claude Lorrain, all -brightness, all hope. There seemed not to be a cloud in the whole sky; -but those sweet days of happiness are often like the glowing mornings -of tropical climes, where, in the midst of a heaven previously without -spot, a small, dark cloud appears, no bigger than a man's hand, and -ere many hours are over, the hurricane sweeps past, and all is -destruction, desolation, and sorrow.</p> - -<p class="normal">The fourth day broke as brightly as any of the former, and Morley -Ernstein, who, for propriety's sake--or for the sake of that which a -corrupted state of society believes to be propriety--had been driven -by Lady Malcolm to sleep at another house, came in to breakfast as -usual, and to arrange with her he loved some pleasant scheme for the -passing of the coming hours. They had sat up late on the preceding -night, enjoying the balmy summer air, as it swept over the sea, and -Juliet had not yet quitted her room. At the place where she usually -sat, however, had been laid down a letter, and Lady Malcolm, who -entered the room first, wondered from whom it could come. Juliet -herself soon appeared, and, without noticing the epistle, talked to -Morley for some time, upon all those things which first interest -lovers when they meet, and might have gone on still longer, had not -Lady Malcolm--who was at an age when small matters are great, and who, -moreover, had always been gifted with that peculiar sort of -irritability which never suffers one to rest till the inside of a -letter has been seen--insisted upon Juliet opening hers, though Juliet -had said before that it was from her father, and was only that which -he wrote her every week.</p> - -<p class="normal">To please her cousin, however, she broke the seal; but poor Juliet's -countenance underwent a sad change as she read the few lines that it -contained, and her voice faltered sadly, as she said--</p> - -<p class="normal">"My father is in London; he has come up in great haste about various -matters, and requires my presence immediately, without a moment's -delay. He refers me to a letter from Helen, which I have never -received, and speaks of Yelverly having been broken into by robbers. I -am afraid I must go directly, Harriet."</p> - -<p class="normal">As one may suppose every thing was soon in confusion. Lady Malcolm -read the letter, and saw that it was imperative. Juliet wished to go -alone, but her cousin would not hear of such a thing, and said she was -quite ready to return to London: Morley Ernstein professed himself -rejoiced that Mr. Carr had come to town, and spoke a few words for -Juliet's ear alone, which made the blood mount into her cheek. Lady -Malcolm did not seem so well contented, however, and after breakfast -she and Juliet consulted together, sending Morley to see that -everything was ready for their immediate departure. In five minutes -after, however, Lady Malcolm despatched her maid to call him back -again, and when he entered the little sitting-room of the inn, he -found that good lady standing ready to speak with him, and bearing -very much the air of one who has something unpleasant to communicate, -and does not well know how to do it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My dear Morley," she said, "I have just been talking to Juliet about -you and her father; for on hearing that he had come suddenly to town, -I began to be in a fright lest something unpleasant might take place, -if he saw you at once as the acknowledged lover of his daughter, -before he is a little prepared----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, why--why?" demanded Morley, with some surprise. "If he had not -come, I should have gone down, as soon as Juliet herself left town, to -ask her hand at once. She is well aware that such was my intention. -Why should anything unpleasant happen, my dear lady?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is what I was explaining to Juliet," said Lady Malcolm. "A long -time ago, there was a sad quarrel between your father and Mr. -Carr--all about me, too, unfortunately--and though the thing is passed -by and gone, my dear Morley, yet I think it would be very much better -if you would let us go up first, and follow to-morrow, when I have -seen Mr. Carr, and explained the whole matter to him. Now do not look -sad and discomposed; it is only a precaution, but, depend upon it, it -is a wise one. He is an irritable, and a passionate man, Mr. Carr, -and, in the haste of the moment, he might say something which he would -never retract. But as I will manage it, all will go right, depend upon -it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But what says Juliet?" demanded Morley, while that small dark cloud -which we have spoken of as announcing the tempests of tropical skies; -now first appeared upon the horizon of his own happiness. "What says -Juliet, Lady Malcolm? I would fain speak with her. You alarm and -surprise me."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lady Malcolm immediately called Juliet from her room; but she came in -with so cheerful a countenance, that the fears which had suddenly -taken possession of Morley's heart, disappeared before its sunshine.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is this, Juliet," he asked, "that Lady Malcolm tells me? It -seems," he continued, "that she and you have determined to cut me off -from a day's happiness, dear Juliet; and wish me to stay here till you -have seen your father?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are not angry with me for wishing it?" said Juliet, giving him -her hand, for he had spoken in a tone of vexation. "If you are, you -shall come, Morley. But I thought what dear Lady Malcolm proposed was -much better. She has explained to me the cause of my father's -crossness on that day when first we met you, which I never knew -before. But I am sure that if we have an opportunity of speaking with -him calmly and quietly, he will not oppose us in any degree. He never -does thwart me, and the only danger lies in taking him by surprise, -and provoking him to utter something harsh. When he has said a thing, -he adheres to it inflexibly, and, therefore, I thought it much better -not to risk anything.--I tell you the whole truth, Morley, as I ever -will, and now, having done so, you shall act as you like."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then I will stay here, Juliet," replied Morley; "for as my whole -happiness depends upon obtaining you, it shall never be said that any -rashness of mine whatsoever cast away the cup of happiness when it was -so near my lips. I will not set off for London, then, until to-morrow -morning, for I fear, Juliet, I could not keep myself away, if I were -in the same town with you, and then I should never cease to reproach -myself, if anything went wrong."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nothing will--nothing can!" said Juliet, with a smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lady Malcolm, finding that their plan was settled, quitted the room -for a moment; and Juliet Carr, seeing that a slight shade of -apprehension still hung upon her lover's countenance, added--"Nothing -will go wrong, Morley, depend upon it; and though I dare not make any -other promises, this, at least, I may venture to say; the hand you -have sought, Morley, shall never be given to any one else--believe me, -on my honour."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do believe you, dear Juliet," cried Morley, enthusiastically--"I do -believe you, from what I feel myself; for I cannot think that those -who have loved as we have, could ever forget that love so far as, -under any circumstances or for any consideration, to enter into an -union with another than the person who first possessed their heart.--I -do not know why I am apprehensive, Juliet, or of what; but certainly -it is not lest you should give your hand to another."</p> - -<p class="normal">The half-hour that was to intervene before the departure of Lady -Malcolm and Juliet Carr passed as rapidly as the half-hours of -happiness usually do; and Morley Ernstein was soon left alone to while -away the time, amidst scenes which had seemed full of joy and beauty.</p> - -<p class="normal">There is a fine paper in the <i>Spectator</i>, from the hand of Addison -himself, upon the effect which would be produced in the physical world -by the absence of the coloured rays of light, showing the dull, -greyness that would spread over the whole universe; and certainly in -the moral world, the absence of those we love produces the same -effect. How instantly does all around us become changed!--how rapidly -does everything lose its brightness and its glow!--how grey, how -leaden, how heavy, falls upon the eye every object in which we took -pleasure while the beloved were with us when the light of love is -gone! Morley had fancied the scenery around him beautiful--he had -thought everything full of loveliness and brightness; but it was in -truth Juliet Carr that he saw reflected from all on which his eye -rested; it was her beauty, her beaming countenance that he beheld on -the sunshiny sea, in the bright landscape, in every ride or drive -around; and now that she was gone, all things seemed, indeed, "flat, -stale, and unprofitable."</p> - -<p class="normal">In vain he sought for occupation or for amusement; his spirit was -impatient, his heart was apprehensive. Twenty times in the course of -the day, he felt angry with himself for not accompanying Juliet to -London--twenty times he felt tempted to send for horses, and follow -her as fast as possible.</p> - -<p class="normal">The day ended at length, notwithstanding all its tediousness, and -gladly did he see the following morning break, and the horses brought -to the door. The coach went wondrous slow for his impatience, and -every stoppage seemed to him an unpardonable crime on the part of the -coachman. But the journey, as the tedious waiting of the preceding day -had done, and as everything else, whether pleasant or unpleasant, must -do, passed away in the end; and towards seven o'clock, he found -himself at the door of the hotel.</p> - -<p class="normal">On his table was a note from Lady Malcolm, very brief, and evidently -written in haste. The few words which it contained were as -follows:--"My dear Morley, pray come here directly. I have a great -deal to talk to you about; Helen Barham too is here, and has promised -to stay with and console me."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein let the note drop out of his hand. "To stay with and -console her!--Console her, for what?" he exclaimed. "In the name of -Heaven what has happened?" and snatching up his hat, he darted away to -Lady Malcolm's, with the speed of lightning, making no answer to the -waiter's demand of, "Dine at home to-day, sir?"</p> - -<p class="normal">At Lady Malcolm's the quiet appearance of everything provoked him. The -footman who opened the door presented as calm a face, answered with as -easy a tone, and moved with as slow a step, as if everything had gone -on in peace and happiness since Noah and his train issued forth from -the ark. Morley Ernstein could not affect a tranquillity he did not -feel, and while the man was walking up the stairs before him, as if -his joints were becoming ossified, the young gentleman suddenly pushed -past him, and entered the drawing-room unannounced.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lady Malcolm was seated quietly at work, and Helen Barham was reading; -but, though Morley looked round for the bright angelic face of Juliet, -and the less prepossessing one of Mr. Carr, no such objects presented -themselves; and the grieved, anxious expression of Helen's -countenance, as she raised her eyes and beheld him, told at once that -something painful had happened, something which she knew would -distress him much.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, dear, I am so glad you are come!" exclaimed Lady Malcolm, "though -I am sure I do not know what is to be done--but you must judge -yourself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where is Juliet?" demanded Morley, eagerly interrupting Lady -Malcolm--"where is Juliet, dear Lady Malcolm?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"She is gone," replied Lady Malcolm; "Mr. Carr would take her home -with him, in spite of all I could say. I explained the whole to him; -and Juliet herself, I am sure, told him all; but he said nothing but -'hum,' and 'ha!' and in reply, when I told him you would be here -to-night, he only grumbled that he was sorry, but could not stay."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley was agitated far more than lady Malcolm had expected. Love is -blind in some respects, and in moments of joy is very dull of sight -indeed; but at the first touch of sorrow, comes upon it a prophetic -spirit which teaches it to see the evil afar off, and shrink at the -anguish that too often besets its path. Morley stood still in the -middle of the room, without attempting to take a seat, and looked -steadfastly down upon the ground, asking himself what he should do -next.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My dear Lady Malcolm," he said, at length, "you must forgive me for -making my visit a very hurried one. I can bear anything but -uncertainty, and I must set off immediately for Yelverly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not to-night!" exclaimed Lady Malcolm.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, this very night, dear lady!" replied Morley; "I should not sleep -five minutes if my head were on the softest pillow in England; so I -may as well pass the hours of darkness in my carriage as anywhere -else. I shall be at Morley Court about mid-day to-morrow, and can see -Juliet and her father, and know my fate before another night pass over -my head."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! it will all go very well," said Lady Malcolm; "do not be afraid, -my dear Morley. If you but consider, you will see that Mr. Carr will -never be so foolish as to make any difficulty. He thinks of nothing on -earth but money, you know, and in that point he certainly cannot -object to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley smiled sadly, but still with some renewal of hopes, and he -answered: "Well, we shall see; but at all events I cannot bear -uncertainty, and will go away at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay," rejoined. Lady Malcolm--"stay a little; here is your young -friend Helen Barham, to whom you have not said a word."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley felt that he had been unkind, and going round, he took Helen's -hand. It was as cold as marble; and, as she looked up in his face, it -was with an expression that struck him much, and carried him away for -a moment from the selfishness of his own sorrow. The look was not a -grave one; on the contrary, it was intended to be cheerful; but the -forced smile, the eyes that were full of sadness, the quivering of the -lip and nostril, betraying a struggle against tears, all spoke of -grief at heart; and Morley, after conversing with her for some little -time, went away from Lady Malcolm's house, saying to himself--as I -have had occasion to say more than once--although he saw nothing -of the feelings that he commiserated, except that they were -sorrowful--"Alas, poor Helen Barham!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">It was at Yelverly on a summer's evening, but not upon one of -those -bright evenings which I have described in another place. The weather -had sadly changed, with all the mutability of temperature which -manifests itself so strangely in England, as if for the purpose of -affording a contrast to the firm and constant character of the people. -The sky was covered with grey clouds, the wind was from the cold -north-east, sweeping sorrowfully over the fields and through the -hedge-rows round Yelverly; and that which had seemed sunshiny, rich, -and beautiful, was now to the eye all cold, sad, and desolate. The -cattle gathered themselves under the shelter of the hedges, the sheep -drew close together, the birds sat motionless upon the boughs, and -some wheeling flights of crows, high up in the sky, added to the -autumnal-look which had so suddenly come over the world.</p> - -<p class="normal">Notwithstanding the inauspicious aspect of the afternoon, Juliet Carr -had wandered forth with a shawl wrapped close over her fair bosom to -keep out the rude touch of the blast, and her veil thrown over her -head and face. Her heart was somewhat sad, as may well be supposed, -for she had been suddenly separated, without the slightest expectation -of being so, from him that she loved best on earth. But still, though -her mind was not of a very sanguine or hopeful nature, and her -feelings were as deep and keen as ever dwelt in woman's heart, yet she -was no more than sad, for not one word had passed her father's lips to -make her think he would absolutely disapprove of her union with Morley -Ernstein. He had remained perfectly silent upon the subject: somewhat -gloomy, indeed, but nothing more; and that gloominess Juliet thought -might, perhaps, proceed from a feeling of indisposition, for the -fatigues of the journey had brought on an attack of illness, which, -though not alarming, was severe.</p> - -<p class="normal">To see him suffer, of course, had not lightened the load upon his -daughter's heart; more especially as, at such moments, he repelled -every effort to soothe and comfort him. Indeed, it was clear that, in -sickness, he preferred being attended by any one else than Juliet; and -the sight of her, whose appearance was hailed in the cottage of the -poor as the visit of a consoling angel, seemed rather to affect Mr. -Carr, in his hours of illness, with painful and unpleasant feelings. -It was not that he was cross or morose with her, for it was scarcely -possible for any human being to be so; and, on the contrary, he was -usually much more gentle with her than with any other person, seeming -to pay a sort of deferential respect to her opinion, which sometimes -surprised even Juliet herself. But when he was ill, he had always some -excuse ready for sending her away, and this was so marked that she -perceived it, and perceived it with sorrow.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such had been the case on the present occasion. Juliet and her father -had arrived the day before, at Yelverly, Mr. Carr feeling himself at -the time extremely unwell. His illness had increased considerably -during the night; and Juliet, though evidently not much to his -satisfaction, had remained attending upon him during the whole day. -Towards evening, however, he became more impatient; and upon pretence -that it was better for her health to take exercise, he insisted upon -her going out--reminding her, that the cottagers on different parts of -the estate had not seen her for some weeks.</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet, at the time I have brought her before the reader's eyes again, -had strolled out to one of the distant hamlets which belonged to her -father, had called at two or three of the houses, where no slight joy -and satisfaction had greeted her arrival, had seen that all which -could be done to promote the happiness and comfort of the poor had -been executed during her absence, and was walking home again, with a -heart somewhat sorrowful, when she heard the sound of a horse's feet -proceeding at a rapid pace along the highway hard by. She was at this -time in one of the small green fields that I have mentioned, about a -mile and a half from Yelverly house, and was crossing the meadow by a -foot-path running from one corner to another, which was terminated by -a gate and stile leading to the main road.</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet's heart beat at the sound of that horse's feet, she knew not -well why, for manifold were the horsemen who rode along that road, and -not a few of them went at the same rapid and impatient pace which -those footfalls indicated; but yet her heart beat with the thought -that it might be Morley Ernstein; and, though it was very natural that -she should so think, for love is as full of hopes as fears--rapid, -causeless, wild--yet she scolded herself for entertaining idle -expectations, when she had no right whatever to suppose that Morley -could have followed her so soon.</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet looked eagerly forward as she approached the stile, before -which the horseman must pass, and in a moment after, the figure of -Morley Ernstein himself flitted across like lightning, mounted on the -same splendid horse which he was riding when they met under the walls -of his own park. He turned not his head to the right or to the left, -little dreaming that Juliet was so near; and though she would have -given a world to call to him, knowing right well that Yelverly was the -object of his ride, and that he would be sadly disappointed at not -finding her there, yet a feeling of modest shame withheld her till it -was too late.</p> - -<p class="normal">Quickening her pace to look after him, however, Juliet approached the -stile rapidly; but just as she reached it the clatter of the horse's -feet for a moment increased, then ceased altogether--it seemed to her -very strangely; and when, throwing open the gate, with a beating -heart, she looked down the road in the direction which Morley had -taken, she saw the horse just struggling up from the ground, and her -lover lying motionless beside it.</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet screamed not, she paused not, she uttered not a word, but -darted on like lightning. The horse was all cut and bleeding, shewing -with what a shock he had fallen; but the poor animal, as if with -generous forgetfulness of his own suffering, after the first trembling -gaze around him, bent down his head to the prostrate body of his -master, seeming to enquire why he lay there so still and silent.</p> - -<p class="normal">Oh, how cold was the heart of Juliet Carr, when coming up she looked -upon the motionless form of him she loved best on earth, and asked -herself--"Is he dead!" She knelt down, she raised his head, she gazed -upon his face. It was covered with dust from the road, but there was -no blood. The fine expressive eyes were closed, the teeth were hard -set; but as she looked upon him he drew a deep breath. There was still -life! and her first words were--"Praise be to God!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Just at that moment, clear and gay, came the merry note of some -peasant boy, as he whistled across the lea. Sad, sad were those merry -sounds to the ear of Juliet Carr, and yet they brought the hope of -relief, for the place was at the distance of half a mile to any -dwelling-house, and she feared to leave Morley lying there while she -ran to procure help. Advancing to a gate a little further on, she -looked into the field, and saw the boy whose wild music she had heard, -coming slowly and heavily along, with some instrument of husbandry -upon his shoulder, and beckoning him eagerly to her, she sent him away -to the nearest cottages to procure all the assistance that he could.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meanwhile she remained by the side of him she loved, gazing -down upon him with eyes from which the tears now began to drop fast, -and watching with faint hope for some sign of returning consciousness. -She made some efforts, too, to call him to life herself: she untied -the handkerchief that was round his neck, she opened the collar of his -shirt, she brought some water in her fair hands from a neighbouring -stream; and, kneeling down beside him, sprinkled his brow; and, as she -did so, Juliet looked timidly around to see if any one was near, and -then pressed her lips upon his forehead and dewed it with her tears.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley moved not, however, even at the touch of love, though he still -breathed; and in about a quarter of an hour four men came down, -bringing a hurdle from one of the neighbouring fields. Upon it Morley -Ernstein was laid, and the men, lifting him up, under Juliet's -direction, carried him to Yelverly, the boy leading the horse, which -had never attempted to stir from the spot.</p> - -<p class="normal">Arrived at the house, Morley Ernstein was carried up stairs and laid -in the room which had been inhabited by Lieberg, Juliet accompanying -the people who bore him thither, and casting aside the consideration -of everything else but the one great object of doing all in her power -to restore him to life. A man was instantly despatched on horseback -for a surgeon, and Juliet hastened to tell her father what had -happened, and to seek his approval of her conduct.</p> - -<p class="normal">She found, however, that the news had been already communicated, but -what surprised her more was to find a stranger seated by her father's -bedside. He was a sickly-looking young man--but to spare further -description, I may add, that though a stranger to Juliet, he is not so -to the reader, being no other than the brother of Helen Barham. The -young man started up somewhat awkwardly, for he had been little used -to the society of ladies, and had not those qualities in his own -character which enable men of fine minds to assimilate themselves -rapidly to what is higher, nobler, and more graceful in the mind and -demeanour of others.</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet's pale face and haggard look, while she told her father of the -accident which had occurred, did not escape the old man's eyes, and he -fixed a keen and searching look upon his daughter's countenance which -pained Juliet, and added other apprehensions to those which she -already entertained.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think, Juliet," he said, as she concluded, "that you might have -taken him to some cottage nearer than this house, and not have put me -to all the expense and trouble of having him here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, my dear father!" exclaimed Juliet, turning away with a sad and -reproachful look; but Mr. Carr, who displayed in general a deference -for her opinion, which he did not evince for that of any one else, -cried out quickly, "Well, well, Juliet, the thing is done now and -cannot be helped; we must make the best of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">At that moment one of the maids entered the room with a quick step, -saying, "Miss Carr--Miss Carr! there's Mr. Langley, the surgeon, up at -the rectory, with Mrs. Lee the rector's wife."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Send for him directly," cried Juliet, following the maid out of the -room--"lose not a minute, Jane."</p> - -<p class="normal">The girl hastened away herself, and in about ten minutes more the -surgeon was in the house. Juliet accompanied him to the room where -Morley Ernstein lay, and watched with anxiety--which may have been -deeply felt by those who love, but can never be described even by -those who have felt it--the long, the terribly long examination on -which hung the hopes of life and death. She uttered not a word; she -breathed not a sigh; she was so still in that intense anxiety, that -she not only felt but could hear her heart beating.</p> - -<p class="normal">The surgeon turned round, at length, and looked at her, seeing then, -for the first time, that some deep feeling was busy in her bosom. He -spoke not to her, but bowed his head gently, with a look of -encouragement; and then the tears burst forth in floods from her eyes, -and she turned away towards the window. At the same moment the surgeon -drew from his pocket that little case of instruments, the sight of -which has so often produced the shudder of mortal antipathy on the -manly frame--the operation of which has with equal frequency plunged -hearts full of affection and tenderness into the bitterest agony of -earthly sorrow, or restored smiles and sunshine to the bright domestic -hearth.</p> - -<p class="normal">The lancet and the bandage were soon produced, and the red blood -spouted freely from the arm of the injured man. A minute or two after, -while Juliet was still looking forth from the window, she heard a -voice which made her whole frame thrill. It was the rich melodious -tone of the lips of him she loved, but low and softened; and darting -to the bedside, she cast herself upon her knees, exclaiming, "Thank -God!--thank God!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Great indeed was the change which the flowing of that blood produced. -The dull heavy aspect of life without intelligence was gone. The clear -bright soul had resumed its sway in the mortal tenement, and looked -out from the window of the eye.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Juliet, Juliet!" said Morley Ernstein, "where am I? Something has -happened!"</p> - -<p class="normal">But the surgeon held up his hand, saying, "Do not speak. You must be -kept perfectly quiet, especially till the blood has flowed freely. -This will all pass away, but we must guard against any fever.--Do not -be agitated, my dear Miss Carr, all will go well, I assure you. The -only thing that is necessary is quiet: and therefore I must now have -the room cleared. Two or three days of perfect tranquillity and -confinement will remove all evil, except aches and bruises. So you may -rest satisfied, and leave this gentleman to my care without any -apprehension."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will leave him for the present," replied Juliet; "but I must be his -nurse, Mr. Langley. I have known this gentleman from childhood, and I -am sure that sir Morley Ernstein will like my tending as well as that -of any other."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Better--far better--than any on the earth," replied Morley, holding -out his hand to her, while the surgeon was busy binding the bandage -round his other arm. "To see you near me, Juliet, is enough of itself -to make me well.--I remember now that my horse fell, but how I came -hither I do not recollect."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We will tell you all that afterwards," replied the surgeon; "and if, -in order to make you well, Miss Carr must come back again," he added, -with a meaning smile, "I can have nothing to say; only she must leave -you for the present--for two or three hours at least. During that time -I must stay and watch you; but when I am sure that all is going on -right, she shall take her turn."</p> - -<p class="normal">On leaving the room of Morley Ernstein, Juliet proceeded at once to -the chamber of her father, to report the state of their young guest; -for although she was almost sure to find, in any communication with -Mr. Carr, something to shock and pain her, yet she struggled against -the repugnance naturally engendered by his words and demeanour, and -overcame, from a sense of duty, every inclination to conceal from the -eyes of her parent the feelings of her own heart.</p> - -<p class="normal">Had she found her father alone on the present occasion, all that she -felt towards Morley Ernstein would undoubtedly have been poured forth; -but William Barham was still with him, and Juliet saw with some -apprehension that Mr. Carr's face was flushed and feverish. He was -irritable too, and spoke angrily of her having been so long away. She -listened with patience, and made no reply, but informed him of the -state of Sir Morley Ernstein, and told him the surgeon's opinion, that -the young Baronet would soon be well.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I wish, my dear father," she added, in the end, "that you would see -Mr. Langley yourself. You do not seem at all better, and as he is now -in the house, it would be wiser to consult him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If he will not charge it as a visit to me," said Mr. Carr, "I shall -have no objection. But I am not going to pay him for doctoring me when -he is getting paid for his time by this young Baronet."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then I will send him, sir," said Juliet, and much reason had she to -be glad that she had persuaded her father to see the surgeon; for it -proved that Mr. Carr was more seriously ill than he imagined, and the -recovery of Morley Ernstein was much more rapid than his own. -Nevertheless, more than one week passed before the young Baronet was -suffered to quit his room; and the situation of Juliet Carr, it must -be owned, was somewhat strange, not only in relation to Morley, but -also in relation to William Barham, who, at Mr. Carr's request, -continued to reside in the house.</p> - -<p class="normal">All the cold proprieties of society--the icy fetters with which the -evil acts of the bad have contrived to chain the warmest affections of -the generous and the good--did certainly from time to time present -themselves to the mind of Juliet Carr, and acted, in some degree, as a -check upon her. But that degree was a very small one. Her heart was -too pure, her mind too candid, all her intentions and all her thoughts -too high and holy for evil in any shape to present itself to her -imagination; and that which she herself knew not to be wrong, she -could with difficulty believe would be represented as wrong even by a -harsh world.</p> - -<p class="normal">Many hours of the day, then, did she spend with Morley Ernstein, -cheering him, soothing him; and the only restraint that she did put -upon herself was to ensure that those hours were not passed with him -alone--so long, at least, as he was confined to his own chamber. There -was always some servant in the room with her--not a little to Morley's -annoyance, if we may say the truth--but two or three gentle words from -Juliet, explaining to him her reasons, convinced him that she was -right. He loved her too well to wish that, for his sake, she should do -anything which might bring one reproach upon his future wife.</p> - -<p class="normal">Still those hours were most sweet to both of them--perhaps not the -less sweet for the slight restraint under which they laboured; for -there are times, as every one must have felt, when the partial -indulgence of our feelings gives greater delight than even the full -enjoyment, as the slight airy haze which sometimes covers a landscape -makes it seem more beautiful than it would appear, unveiled and -distinct. The time soon came, however, when he could come down to the -drawing-room, and sit with her there alone, but it was only during one -day that he enjoyed that privilege, for William Barham, who had -previously remained almost entirely in Mr. Carr's room, except in -those hours when he was rambling over the country round, now contrived -to intrude his society continually upon Morley Ernstein and Juliet, -although it must have been very evident to him that his company was -anything but pleasant to them, and although he himself always seemed -ill at ease in the presence of the young Baronet.</p> - -<p class="normal">On their first interview, as may be well supposed, Morley was not a -little surprised to find him in England, and at Yelverly; but the -account of his shipwreck was soon given, and his appearance there was -explained by the old friendship of Mr. Carr for several members of his -family. After some questions on these subjects, Morley paid little or -no attention to him, except as an annoying restraint upon Juliet and -himself. In order to free himself from such a check, Morley urged the -surgeon vehemently to let him go out sooner than the man of healing -was inclined to permit. At length, however, the prohibition was taken -off; and that very day the lover accompanied Juliet Carr upon her -morning walk. But of the walk itself, and of all that followed, we -must speak in another chapter.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Love is certainly a strange and wonderful power, affecting all -things, -within us and without us, by its own magical influence, brightening -all things, calling forth beauty from all things, bringing out -infinite variety from objects that would otherwise be tame and full of -sameness, and impressing with the stamp of immortal memory, feelings, -thoughts, and words that seem the most evanescent, light, and -transitory.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley and Juliet walked on with love for their sole companion; but, -oh! how that sweet comrade of the way enriched with marvellous -splendour the calm fields of Yelverly! But not only for them did he -produce changes, but in them also were wonderful alterations effected. -The lovely countenance of Juliet Carr, always full of deep and high -expression, now became the mirror of all the thousand emotions that -trembled in her bosom. It was like a beautiful lake, rippled by the -gentle wind of an April day, which wafted over it innumerable bright -gleams and soft shadows, rendering it not only lovely in itself, but -lovely in its varieties. The sunshine was predominant, though there -were still some clouds, as I have said, for where can there be vast -hopes without light fears? and though Juliet knew not what it was she -apprehended, yet, from time to time, there was a doubt came over her -to soften the feeling of joy, like the flattened third, which will -often throw into a gay piece of music a tone of melancholy, which -renders the whole far more touching.</p> - -<p class="normal">She knew not, as I have said, what she doubted or what she feared; and -perhaps such fears as she did entertain might arise only from that -uncertainty of the stability of any human enjoyment which is implanted -in the deepest depths of man's heart--a voice, as it were, from the -tomb, telling him that all in this unstable world must perish and pass -away--the brightest hopes, the warmest feelings, the fondest -affections, purposes, desires, enjoyments, must know decay as well as -every other earthly thing, as well as every leaf, and flower, and -bright form, and beautiful conception, and give place to things of -other unknown worlds, which, we may fondly trust, are more stable than -any of the joys of this. It might be that impression of the mortality -of all this earth's beings that made Juliet Carr, even in the midst of -love and joy, feel the faint shadow of some undefined apprehensions -cross the sunshine of her mind from time to time. Nevertheless, the -summer of love was not less bright, the harvest of joy not less -abundant.</p> - -<p class="normal">With Morley Ernstein that bright dream of youth was warmer and more -glowing still, and he would have called himself completely happy, had -it not been that fate still left that <i>something to be wished for</i>< br> -which accompanies us from the cradle to the grave--which is an -absolute ingredient in all the happiness of this earth where fruition -is but a point, and which leads us on to that grand state of being -where everything is eternal, whether it be joy, and hope, and love, or -pain, remorse, and despair,--that something to be wished for, the -great main-spring of human action and endeavour, without which the -senses, and the heart, and the brain would all stand still, like a -clock run down,--that something to be wished for, which leads us -sweetly on from the soft days of infancy, when we clutch with feeble -efforts the daisy in the grass, through the flowery paths of love, -through the noble but more laborious ways of a high ambition, unto the -bed of death itself, where, still beyond the tomb, the higher, holier -object stands, and the something to be wished for is seen, at length, -in the infinite promises of Heaven!</p> - -<p class="normal">That there was something to be wished for, that the hand of Juliet -Carr was not yet his, that it was still the object of hope and -expectation, could scarcely be said to diminish the enjoyment of -Morley Ernstein; but yet his eager nature, the fiery and impetuous -spirit, of which I have so often spoken, was at that time in full -ascendancy, and did not suffer the calmer, the more placid spirit of -the soul, to rest satisfied with that tranquil happiness which he -possessed, and which might have lasted for many a day longer, had he -not grasped at more. He was anxious to know his fate, he was anxious -to call Juliet his own, and he pressed her vehemently to communicate -at once to her father the love that existed between them, and to beg -his sanction of their immediate union.</p> - -<p class="normal">There were contending emotions in Juliet's breast, there was a timid -shrinking from the task of avowing her love to any one but him who -possessed it, and yet a reluctance to withhold any part of her -confidence from her father, even for an hour. Had it not been for this -latter feeling she would have urged Morley to wait patiently for some -time to stay till Mr. Carr was no longer oppressed and irritated by -sickness, to enjoy the bright present, and not to rush too rashly into -the dim future; but the thought of duty intervened, though she did -hesitate in some degree, saying--</p> - -<p class="normal">"My father is still very unwell, Morley, and I really do not know -whether I shall have any opportunity to-day; for that youth is now -continually with him, and not only that, Morley, but when he is sick -he seems so impatient of my society, and, in spite of all that I can -do to soothe and please him, sends me so soon away, that whatever I -have to say to him I am generally compelled to say abruptly. Now, dear -Morley, I could not enter upon this subject abruptly--at least, it -would be with very great pain that I did so."</p> - -<p class="normal">Nevertheless, Morley Ernstein still pressed his request, and Juliet, -not grieved but agitated, consented to do what he wished, and returned -with him to the house, thoughtful, silent, and with steps somewhat -wavering and uncertain.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It must be done, some time, dear Juliet," said Morley, after they had -entered the mansion, "and it were better done at once, my beloved. I -will wait for you here; and, oh! come back to me, Juliet, with bright -looks and happy tidings."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein remained alone in the drawing-room, and he had not -been there five minutes before he began to think that Juliet was long -in returning. He then walked up and down the room, and looked out of -the window; and then there was the sound of a closing door, and Morley -Ernstein listened for Juliet's step. A step, indeed, was heard, but it -was not that of her he loved; and, in a minute or two after, he saw -William Barham issue forth from the porch, walk slowly up between the -yew trees, and, passing through the iron gate, stop to speak, for a -moment, with one of his (Morley's) grooms, who had brought a horse -over for him from his own house. After that the young man walked on, -and Morley Ernstein sat down and tried to look at a book. He neither -saw one letter of the printed page, nor one line of the engraving that -illustrated it, and he soon closed the volume again, and resumed his -impatient pacing up and down the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">A quarter of an hour went by--half-an-hour came to an end, and, -muttering, "Surely something must be the matter," Morley opened the -drawing-room door. There came a low murmuring sound from the chamber -of Mr. Carr, as if two persons were conversing eagerly, and in the -tone of one of them Morley recognised, at once, the voice of Juliet. -Although the door between Mr. Carr's room and the passage prevented -what was said from being heard, Morley instantly drew back, lest even -a word should catch his ear; but he was not destined to remain long in -suspense. A moment after, the door of Mr. Carr's room opened and -closed, and the step of Juliet Carr was heard in the passage. But -where was its elastic lightness? Where the quick and bounding tread -with which she used to seek the room where Morley Ernstein waited her?</p> - -<p class="normal">She came slowly, seemingly sadly. He could bear the doubt no more, and -once more going forth, he looked up the passage in the direction of -Mr. Carr's chamber. Juliet was there, but she was pale, trembling, -supporting her half-fainting steps by laying her hand upon the cornice -of the old wainscot, and with her bright eyes deluged in tears. -As soon as she saw him, she made an effort and came forward more -quickly, and Morley, throwing his arm around her, drew her into the -drawing-room and closed the door. He pressed her to his bosom, he -asked her again and again, in a tone of wild anxiety, what it was that -grieved her; but Juliet continued to hide her face upon his breast, -and weep in silence for several minutes, speech, and almost thought, -seeming for the time denied to her.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, however, she sobbed forth a few inarticulate words. They -were merely--"It is all in vain, Morley--it is all in vain! I can -never be yours. I have promised not to stay with you either--I must -leave you, to see you no more;" and again her face, which she had -raised for a moment to speak, fell upon his bosom, and her eyes -deluged it with tears.</p> - -<p class="normal">"God of Heaven!" cried Morley Ernstein, "what is the meaning of this, -Juliet? I must not--I cannot--I will not, lose you so! To what can -your father object? With what can he find fault, in myself, my -fortune, and my station?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is not that--it is not that!" cried Juliet. "It is ancient hatred, -Morley--it is other plans, other designs. Oh, Heaven! that my father -should ever have a share in causing you such grief!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Grief, indeed?" cried Morley Ernstein. "But will you, Juliet--will -you suffer yourself to be the means of inflicting such grief upon me? -Juliet, you must not, you cannot act so. You are pledged and plighted -to me. You are mine, my beloved, and I will never forego my claim upon -your hand. Oh, Juliet! if you love me, if you have ever loved me, you -will not fail me now in this hour of terrible trial. Juliet, you must -consent to be mine at all risks, and without the consent of any one, -if that consent is withheld upon such unworthy grounds. If one word -can be brought against my character and reputation, if it can be shewn -that I have done anything in life base, dishonourable, or wrong, I -will submit, not without agony, but without a murmur. But, Juliet, if -such is not the case, and if you have no reason to believe that I am -unworthy of you, you have a duty to perform to me as well as to -others, and, dear Juliet, I call upon you; by every tie of love and -affection, to perform it at once. You have no right, Juliet, to be the -means of trampling upon my heart; to doom all my future years to -misery and solitary despair, to take away all the brightness of my -youth, and but to bless me for a moment in order to make me miserable -for ever. Fly with me, Juliet--fly with me! Once united, your father -will readily forgive a step to which he himself drove us. Fly with me, -and be mine at once--."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke he pressed her closer to his bosom, but Juliet drew back -and disengaged herself from his arms, still leaving her hand in his, -however. "Morley, it must not, and it cannot be," she said. "What! -would you have Juliet Carr fly from the house of her sick father, for -the purpose of violating his express commands? Oh, no, Morley!--no, -that can never be. You would despise me if I did it. But that is not -the only obstacle, Morley; there are a thousand things that you will -learn too soon, which would render it impossible for me to give you my -hand now, even were I willing to forget my duty to my parent. Oh, no, -no," she continued, while the tears which had ceased for a moment -again burst forth from her eyes--"the time will come when you will -hate me, Morley, when you will abhor the day that you first knew -anything of me or mine. That--that is worse than anything to bear--to -think that you should ever have cause to look upon the day that you -met Juliet Carr, as the most unfortunate of your life."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein gazed upon her for a moment in silence, puzzled by the -words she uttered; but at length he said--"What is it you mean, -Juliet?--You are going to give your hand to another? Oh, Juliet Carr! -beware, beware! Think upon the responsibility you draw upon your own -head. Remember, you not only blast my happiness and peace for ever, -but you take from me all confidence in virtue--all belief in -honour--all trust in human love! You drive me to vice, to wickedness, -perhaps to crime; you plunge me into that whirl of dissipation and -folly, which is the only resource for reckless, hopeless, trustless -despair.--Juliet, you are going to wed another, and ruin both yourself -and me!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Never, never, never!" cried Juliet, vehemently. "Morley, you do me -wrong; indeed, indeed you do! I call that God to witness, whose will I -believe I am obeying in sacrificing my own happiness to the commands -of my parent, that no consideration upon earth shall ever induce me to -give my hand to any other man; that I will love you ever, dear Morley, -to the last hour of my life, that I will pray for you as for a brother -dearest to my heart, and that, when death shall free me from a world -where there is nothing but sorrow before me, you shall have a token to -know that my affection was unchanged even to the last hour. I ask -nothing of you, Morley, in return," she continued, after a moment's -pause--"I ask nothing in return, but that you should try never to -think harshly of poor Juliet Carr; to separate her acts in your mind -from the acts of others, and, if you have ever loved her and esteemed -her truly, to remember her but for the purpose of keeping yourself -firm and steadfast in all those high and noble principles that shed -around you a glory in her eyes which shall never pass away from the -picture that memory will supply of the only man she ever loved. Let me -ever hear of you with pride and pleasure, Morley. Let me hear, too, of -your being happy--as happy as the circumstances will permit. Yes, -Morley," she added, laying both her hands gently upon his arm, "happy -with another, who may love you, perhaps, nearly as well as I do, and -who may render your future life brighter than I can do. Oh, yes, -Morley! yes, you were not formed for solitary existence. You were -formed for giving and receiving happiness, and night and day will I -pray that it may be your lot, and that, whatever course of life you -pursue, you may ever be remembered amongst the great, and good, and -happy."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley cast himself down in a seat, and hid his eyes with his hands; -not that they contained a tear, for they burned in his head like -living coals, but to shut out, as it were, the terrible and confused -images that flitted before his sight as a vision of the future.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Farewell, Morley," said the voice of Juliet, sadly and solemnly, as -if she was speaking on the bed of death--"farewell, Morley--farewell -for ever!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein started up and caught her again to his bosom. Tears -came then to his relief, he kissed her again and again with agony -which those only can conceive who have known what it is to part for -ever with those that they loved best on earth. Juliet wept, too, in -silence for a moment, and then again murmuring--"Farewell!" she tore -herself from him, and darted away.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The chilly wind that sighed in long heavy gusts over moor and -fell and -wild grass-covered mountain, the damp rawness of the air, the heavy -clouds that lay detached in strange-shaped masses upon the edge of the -distant horizon, all told that the sweet season of the summer was come -to a close, and that the world was dropping into the old age of the -year.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the northern parts of England, the summer often seems to go out, as -it were, at once, and autumn, especially towards sunset, puts on the -chilling aspect of the winter. But the moment at which I choose to -open this chapter was beyond that of sunset by some hours, and the -traveller who rode alone through a wild, bleak part of Northumberland, -appeared, by the rapidity of his pace, to be eager to arrive at some -place of shelter for the night. Such, however, was not the case; and -little did that traveller care at what hour he reached the home to -which his steps were bent, for despair was in his heart, and all was -barren. The cheerful hall, the blazing hearth, the gay banquet, the -familiar faces, were all to him cold, and lifeless, and not less -desert than the wild hill-side over which he now took his impetuous -way.</p> - -<p class="normal">The fresh and beaming countenance of Morley Ernstein, which but a few -short months before, when he was first introduced to the reader, -breathed health, and strength, and energy, was now pale, and anxious, -and depressed. The air, the bland expression of youth, was gone, -sorrow and disappointment, and strong passionate thought, had set the -seal of mature life upon his brow. Every touch of early years and -fresh inexperience was done away, and any one who could have looked -upon his countenance would have said that six or seven-and-twenty -years must have passed over his head, rather than the shorter, -brighter count of one-and-twenty.</p> - -<p class="normal">Though the night was chilly and raw, as I have stated, it was not -dark; a grey film indeed covered the sky, composed of cold damp -vapours, driven hastily along by the keen wind. But beneath was the -moon, which was now near the edge of the horizon, and which not only -afforded a considerable portion of light, even when her broad disk was -not seen, but from time to time glanced through the hurrying clouds, -and glared, large, and cold, and wan upon the traveller's eye.</p> - -<p class="normal">Still he rode forward along the sandy road, now having nothing before -him but the dim forms of the hills over which his way lay, cutting -upon the sky, now catching a glimpse of some distant tower or village -steeple, rising black and sad above the horizon for a moment, and then -sinking into the confused darkness of all around, as he dashed onward. -At length the light-coloured sand, which had marked out the road, -became mingled with some darker substance, and the path he was -following was thenceforth scarcely to be distinguished. The speed of -the traveller, however, was not relaxed, and with that sort of -recklessness which bitter disappointment brings with it, instead of -striving to guide his horse he let the rein float loose upon the -animal's neck, thinking--"He will find his way--and if not, it matters -little."</p> - -<p class="normal">He was thus crossing an open moor at a rapid rate when a faint cry of -some kind struck his ear. He paid no attention to it, however, -thinking that it proceeded from some wild bird of night, startled from -its marshy nest by the sounding feet of his horse; and rode quickly -on, still plunged in his own thoughts, when suddenly the beast that -bore him shied wildly from some object at the side of the road, and -Morley Ernstein, catching up the rein, drew the animal in, and turned -his head towards the thing that had frightened him. He then heard the -voice of a child, apparently crying bitterly, and although he had -become by this time reckless and careless of himself, the better part -of his heart's feelings was still untouched, and, springing to the -ground, he approached the spot where the little wanderer sat.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley found there a boy of about four years old, who at first made no -answer to his manifold questions but by tears. At length, however, he -made out that the poor child was crying for some one whom he had lost, -and whom he called "Annie;" but difficult indeed was it to discover -where or how this person was to be found. All that the boy could tell -was, that he had left her "by the fire," and Morley in vain -endeavoured to discover where the cottage lay to the fire in which he -fancied the poor child alluded; the urchin still replying to all -enquiries that he had left Annie by the fire.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, my boy," said Morley, in a kindly tone, "shall I take you to -seek for Annie?" and the child, instantly starting up, held out his -hand. "I will take you up before me on the horse," continued -the gentleman, and the boy shewed anything but unwillingness, -exclaiming--"Harry did that."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young gentleman accordingly remounted, taking the little fellow up -on the pommel of the saddle. "Now, which way shall I turn, my man?" he -said. But the boy could give him no information; and he rode on, -determined to place the child in safety at the next village, and then -to send out different persons to enquire for his parents. Proceeding -more slowly than he had hitherto done, Morley advanced across the -moor, the undulations of the ground preventing him from seeing beyond -a few hundred yards around him. At length a bright glare suddenly -burst upon his sight, rising over the slope before him, and a moment -or two after he came in sight of one of those immense fires of waste -coal, which mark out the edges of pits in the North. The flame rose up -many yards in height, waving to and fro, as the keen wind drove it, -and canopying itself with a loud of lurid smoke, while below appeared -the intense glow of the fire, spreading over some twenty or thirty -feet of ground.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There--there's the fire!" cried the boy; "Annie's by the -fire--Annie's by the fire!" and Morley, beginning to comprehend what -the poor baby meant, pushed his horse onwards toward the glare, though -it was not without great difficulty that he forced the animal to -approach it. No human form, however, appeared by the light, and the -boy, after seeming somewhat bewildered, exclaimed--"No, it is not -there--no, it is not there.--It is the other fire."</p> - -<p class="normal">At the same time he pointed with his hand towards the east, and -Morley, following that indication, turned his horse once more upon the -road. As soon as he had issued forth from the bright red light that -spread around, he perceived a faint glow at some distance, in the -direction towards which the boy had pointed; and, as he rode onward, -he found that he was approaching another of the pit-mouths, where a -still larger pile of waste coal than that which he had before seen was -blazing up into the sky. Before he reached it, however, the road -dipped down into a little ravine, and as he followed its course, -losing sight of the fire for a moment, he heard the voice of -lamentation, and a moment or two afterwards some one from the top of -the bank exclaimed, in a tone of agony--"Have you found him, -Harry?--have you found him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley drew in his horse. "If it be of a child you are speaking," he -cried, raising his voice, "I have just found one on the moor. He is -quite safe, and I will bring him round to the fire a minute."</p> - -<p class="normal">The voice which had spoken made no reply, but in a moment or two -after, Morley's horse carried him again within sight of the pit-mouth, -which was still at the distance of three or four hundred yards. By the -light of the burning coal, he beheld a female figure walking about -with gesticulations which he easily conceived to be those of grief; -but it was evident that the person whom he there saw could not be the -woman whose voice he had heard from above, when he was in the ravine. -He rode on, however, towards the fire, and was again saluted by the -name of Harry as he came up, though, the moment after, the mistake was -perceived, and the old woman, for such she was, who stood by the -blaze, drew back a step or two, as if inclined to avoid him. No sooner -did she behold the child, however, than she darted forward, and held -out her arms, exclaiming, with a wild cry of joy--"He's saved!--he's -saved!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The young gentleman lifted the boy gently down to her, and then -dismounted himself, not a little interested in all that he saw; and, -to say the truth, at that moment Morley Ernstein was not a little glad -to find that any subject upon earth could afford him matter of -interest even for a moment; for the dull and heavy load of despair was -upon his heart, and, not an hour before, all the things of life had -seemed in his eyes to have become light and valueless when put in the -balance against that ponderous weight.</p> - -<p class="normal">The woman's first impulse led her to kiss the child again and again, -even before she offered any thanks to his restorer. The boy also -shewed not a little joy at finding himself again in the arms of the -old woman, and by the terms of endearment which he applied to her, -Morley discovered that it was herself he had wished to designate by -the name of Annie--by which, probably, he meant Granny. While he stood -and gazed, however, at the joyful meeting, between old age and -infancy, the group was joined by another person, who seemed more -deeply affected than even the old dame. It was a young woman of some -three or four-and-twenty years of age, who now came running at full -speed from the bank above the ravine, and she, too, without noticing -Morley, caught the child to her bosom, pressing it close, and kissing -it a thousand times. The young Baronet did not doubt for a moment that -she was the boy's mother, for only a mother's heart could prompt such -emotions as he there beheld.</p> - -<p class="normal">When she had given vent to her feelings for a moment or two, however, -she set the child down beside her, still holding it tight by the hand, -and turned to gaze in silence upon Morley Ernstein, in which -occupation the old woman was already deeply busy.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley returned the enquiring looks of both; for, to say the truth, he -was somewhat surprised at the reception which he met with, and that -not the slightest word of thanks or gratitude was proffered by either -of the women for that which they evidently conceived to be a very -great service. He could understand, indeed, that the elder woman -might, either from natural rudeness or from timidity, be unwilling or -unable to express her thanks, for she was plain and homely in her -attire, and in her appearance altogether, and was evidently a person -of the lower orders. The younger woman was not only pretty, graceful, -and dressed in a style very much superior to her companion, but was -distinguished by a lady-like and intelligent look, which seemed to -promise a mind capable of comprehending what was due to her child's -deliverer, and of expressing it easily and well. Both, however, gazed -for more than a minute at Morley Ernstein without speaking, and then -turned their looks enquiringly towards each other, as if doubtful what -to say or how to act, and at length the younger drew the elder aside, -and spoke to her for a moment or two in a whisper, while Morley -Ernstein looked around him, not a little surprised at everything that -he beheld.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley was unacquainted with that part of the country, having never -visited his northern estates; and the sight of those immense fires, -blazing in the midst of the night, surrounded by wild moors and naked -hills, was calculated in itself to excite an imagination unusually -rich and active, while the meeting with those two women in the midst -of so desolate a scene, with not a trace of human habitation, except a -low, miserable shed of turf, which he saw not far from the mouth of -the pit, and some of the machinery for raising coal, which lay at no -great distance, supplied plenty of materials for fancy to work upon. -Their strange manner, too; the contrast between the appearance of the -one and that of the other; their deep emotions at recovering the -child, and yet their seeming ingratitude to him who restored it; were -all matters of curious speculation, and for the time diverted Morley's -mind from the thought of himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will stay and see what comes of all this," he said to himself. -"Occupation must now be my great object in life, the deadening of -remembrance and regret, the striving for forgetfulness. I may as well -take the matter for fresh thoughts wherever I find it.--I will pass -the night here, it will be better than the dull solitude of Warmstone, -where I should have nothing but bitter memory for my companion."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he thus communed with himself, the murmured conversation between -the two women was brought to an end, and the younger one advanced -towards him, still speaking a word or two more to the other, "No, no, -mother," she said, "he is not one of those; I know such sort of people -better than you do. They may put on the clothes of a gentleman, but -they never look like him. This is not one of them, depend upon it. See -how he stands; you never saw a thief-taker stand like that."</p> - -<p class="normal">The old woman made no reply, and the young one continued addressing -herself now to Morley Ernstein. "I am very much obliged to you, sir," -she said, "and thank you a thousand times for saving my child, and -bringing him back to me. He strayed away from his grandmother while -she fell asleep by the fire, and we feared that he might have fallen -into some old pit. I am very much obliged to you, sir, indeed, and -thank you with my whole heart!"</p> - -<p class="normal">As she spoke, she made Morley a low and graceful courtesy; but he -replied, "Is not your husband looking for the child?--What you said to -me from the top of the bank, when you first heard my horse's feet, -made me think so, at least."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He <i>is</i> looking for the boy, sir," answered the younger woman, "but -he will soon be back again.--I am very much obliged to you, sir;" and -again she made a low courtesy, as if to intimate that she wished the -conference to come to an end. But Morley did not choose that such -should be the case, and he exclaimed--"I will go and seek for him. He -is doubtless anxious about the child, and may very likely not return -for long, unless he knows that the boy is found."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, he will return--he will return!--there is no fear, sir," replied -the younger woman. "He is anxious enough, poor fellow, no doubt; but -he will soon return, I am sure."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You had better go away, young gentleman--you had better go away," -cried the old woman, chiming in, with a more peremptory tone; "they -are wild people in these parts, and you can do no good by staying -here, and may do harm. You had better go away, I say, for this is no -place for you--nor for me either," she added, in a lower tone. "I was -never born for all this."</p> - -<p class="normal">I have attempted to shew before, that the mind of Morley Ernstein was -not very susceptible of fear; and though there was certainly a sort of -menace in the tone of the old woman, his curiosity was but the more -excited, and he replied, without hesitation--"Oh, dear, no! You had -better let me go and look for him. It is the way of this world, where -a man who has lost one thing must always go and help his neighbour who -has lost something else."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think you are laughing at us," said the younger woman, gravely; -"and I tell you, too, I wish you would go, sir. It may be better for -you if you do. If you have really lost anything, and any one here has -found it, it shall be sent back to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am not laughing at you, my good lady," replied Morley; "what I have -lost is my way, and I meant that I was going to call your husband back -to his, when I have lost my own. Thus it was myself I was laughing at, -if at any one. But the truth is, having, as I said, lost my way, I am -about to ask you for shelter here during the night, as I must have, by -the best calculation I can make, some sixteen or seventeen miles, if -not more, to ride to my own home."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Shelter here!" cried the old woman, looking at him eagerly, and even -sternly--"what sort of shelter do you expect here, young man? Is this -a place to seek shelter, or are we people that can give it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I really do not know," answered Morley Ernstein. "I certainly thought -that such a thing was possible, or I should not have asked it; there -seems a cottage there----"</p> - -<p class="normal">Before the old woman could reply, there came the sound of a horse's -feet approaching at a quick pace, and the boy's mother, catching him -up in her arms, darted away like lightning towards the spot where she -had first been standing when met by Morley Ernstein. She seemed to -reach it before the horseman, and Morley could just hear her -exclaim--"He is safe, Harry--he is safe!--Wait till I come down to -you!--Do not come on, I have something to say."</p> - -<p class="normal">The horse apparently paused; for two or three minutes no other sound -was heard from that quarter; and Morley would have been left to -pursue, uninterrupted, his meditations upon the somewhat peculiar -position in which he found himself placed, had not the old woman who -stood beside him urged him somewhat eagerly to mount his horse and -ride away.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You don't look like a bad man," she said, "and you are certainly a -young one, and it's a pity to risk a fresh and happy life for an idle -whim. If you had seen as much sorrow as I have, you might very well -sport with danger; but now, I tell you fairly, you are hazarding your -life for nothing."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have seen sorrow enough, my good dame," replied Morley, "to care -very little about life; but I believe, as you say, it were better not -to risk it. We have no right to do so in this world; God gave it to, -us for others, as much, if not more, than for ourselves. I will take -your advice, then, and go."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he put his foot in the stirrup, mounted, and turned the -rein to ride away; but he could not make up his mind to go fast, for -the idea of flight from any sort of danger was unpleasant to him. -Before he had gone two yards, then, the sound of the other horse's -feet was renewed, and a moment after he saw a stout man, mounted on a -powerful grey, come round by the road which he himself had followed, -and approach at a quick pace towards the fire.</p> - -<p class="normal">The young Baronet felt that a struggle might be approaching of a -somewhat desperate character, and he grasped his riding-whip by the -middle, without any sensation of fear, certainly, but with that degree -of emotion which every one must experience at the prospect of coming -strife. Without taking any apparent notice of the new comer, however, -he pursued his way in the direct course, which he had at first taken, -and which brought him within about ten yards of the path along which -the other was now approaching.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley rode on, but as they crossed each other, the child's father -drew up his horse, and seemed to gaze at the young Baronet -attentively. He then said, "Good night!" to which Morley replied by -exactly the same salutation, still riding on. The next instant, -however, the other exclaimed--"Holloa! Sir Morley Ernstein! You must -give a word to an old acquaintance, after bringing us back the babe!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The old and vulgar proverb--that misfortune makes us -acquainted with -strange bedfellows, is true in more senses than in one; for it not -only brings us into contact with persons that we should never -otherwise have met, but it makes us seek companionships which nothing -else, perhaps, could have produced. To be recognised in such a tone, -in such a place, might at any other time have made Morley Ernstein -start with some surprise; but now he drew in his horse calmly and -deliberately, and turned towards the man who addressed him, very -little caring, to say the truth, who was the person, or what was his -trade. In the meanwhile the other approached, and the light of the -fire was sufficiently strong where they stood to shew Morley a -countenance that was familiar to him, but which, for a moment, he -could not connect in memory with any particular circumstance or -situation.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, you don't recollect me, sir," said the man; "and you saw me only -in a place which I should not think of mentioning anywhere else than -where we now stand--nor, indeed, for that matter, should I take the -liberty of claiming acquaintance with you here, only it can do you no -harm, and I wish to thank you for bringing back the babe."</p> - -<p class="normal">While he had been speaking, the man's voice led Morley's mind back, by -the paths of remembrance, to the point in the past which referred to -their first meeting. "I recollect you, now, Mr. Martin," he said; -"but, to say the truth, we are at such a distance from the spot where -we last saw each other, that you took me by surprise. So this was your -child I found upon the common. How did it happen to stray so? The poor -thing might have perished in such a night as this."</p> - -<p class="normal">"True, sir--true!" replied Harry Martin, for it was that bold, and -somewhat unscrupulous personage with whom Morley now stood face to -face. "True, sir--true, the boy might have perished, and with him my -only tie to life. No, not my only tie either, for there is my poor -girl, Mary, I must think of her a bit, too, though I often fancy she -would be better off if I were gone. She would have been better off, -sure enough, if she had never known me; but, however, she loves me, -and I love her, dear little soul; and though I know you gentle people -and others think that we in our way of life have little or no feelings -of any kind, but just to drink and smoke, and fight a main of cocks, -or something of that sort, yet it is not altogether so either, and we -can love our wife, or our sweetheart, or our child, just as much as -the best in the land. I know one thing, that if we had lost the babe, -it would have broke my heart outright, though I I can remember very -well the time when I did not care anything about children, and thought -they would only be a bother to one; but, somehow, since I had one of -my own, I have got very fond of it, and I don't know how it is that -fondness has made me think very differently of many other things too. -So you see, sir, I am very much obliged to you,--only there is one -favour I'll ask of you, which is not just to mention that you have -seen me here; for the beaks are after me for a little job I did some -time ago, and I think of taking a swim over the herring-pond as a -volunteer, for fear, as they say on board the ships, they should make -me work my passage to Heaven by pulling at a rope's-end."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will certainly not mention it, Martin," replied Morley; "but I -should like to hear something more of you. I asked that young woman, -who is, I suppose, your wife, and her companion, to give me shelter in -the cottage for this night, having got somewhat out of my way, and -being, I fancy, some sixteen or seventeen miles from Warmstone -Castle."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not so far as that, sir--not so far as that," said Harry Martin; -"but, nevertheless, you shall be welcome to stay if you like it. I -know I can trust you; but the women did not know who you were, and -they are in a sad fright about me, poor things! I had left them, for -an hour or two, to go and look out for news; but my poor wife could -not be satisfied, and as I did not come so soon as she expected, went -away to meet me, leaving the boy with his grandmother. The poor old -woman was so tired with all our dodging about for the last two or -three days, that she fell asleep by the fire, and the boy strayed away -after a will-o-the-wisp, or something of that kind, I suppose. But -come, Sir Morley, if you like to stay with us, we will do the best we -can for you, though what you call a cottage is but a hovel, and that -the two women must have. There are some pitmen's cottages, however, -two miles further up on the moor; but between you and I, bad as they -call me, you may rest more safely with me than with them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will stay by your fire, Martin," said Morley, dismounting and -leading his horse back; and in a few minutes more, after some -formalities and introductions of a particular kind, he was seated in -what may be called Harry Martin's domestic circle, and in full -conversation with him, his wife, and mother-in-law.</p> - -<p class="normal">He perceived that the elder woman looked at him hard from time to -time, and at length she said--"I was stupid not to know you, Sir -Morley, for you are so like your father. There is something of your -mother, too, about the eyes, but you are more like your father."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I suppose you knew my father well, then?" answered Morley, looking at -her steadfastly, in order to see whether he could trace in her worn, -but still fine features, the countenance of any of the dependents of -his family whom he had known in youth. It was in vain that he did so, -however; the face of the old woman was quite unknown to him, as her -reply soon showed him that it must be.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, I did know him well," replied the old woman, "and a good man he -was. I wish I had always followed what he told me. It is now about -eighteen years since I saw him, and then he said, very truly, that -those who seek riches by wrong means, are sure to find poverty -straight on their road."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I certainly am sorry that you did not take his advice," said Morley; -"but I trust you were led to do nothing very wrong in opposition to -his counsel."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Tut, nonsense, granny!" cried Harry Martin; "you are doting with your -old stories. What wrong did you ever do, if it was not letting me -marry your daughter? You were as good an old body as ever lived, and -as thriving a one, too, after you came back from India, till both -mother and daughter, I believe, fell in love with a scapegrace like -myself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did not fall in love with you, Harry," replied the old woman; "but -I thought you better than you seemed, and, to say the truth better -than you are. You were frank and free; I believed you would be kind to -my poor girl, and, to do you but justice, you have been so. But what I -am talking about is many years ago; she was then a babe, not so big as -little Harry here, and I was the wife of Serjeant More, a good man and -a kind, but somewhat too fond of money withal. Ay, it was a bad -business, that; but it is of no use thinking of it now. I have not -been in those parts, sir," she continued, "since I came back to -England, and I should like much to hear of all the people there. Your -father is dead, sir, I know; pray, how is your mother? She was a -beautiful creature!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Alas!" replied Morley, "she has been long dead, too."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well-a-day!" exclaimed the old woman, and then, after a pause, she -asked--"and Mr. Sanderstead's family, sir--how are they? He was just -married then."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has now eight or nine daughters, I believe," answered Morley; "I -know the room was full of them when I called there one morning."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay," said the old woman, abstractedly, "and what has become of Lawyer -Carr and his wife?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley shrunk, as if a rude hand had been laid upon a fresh wound, but -he replied, after a moment's hesitation--"The old man is still living, -but his wife has been dead, I find, for some years."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Dead!--dead!" cried the old woman; "and is the child living--the -daughter?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, she is," replied Morley, rising--"she is living--Martin, I think -I shall go on."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, what's the matter, sir?" said Harry Martin, gazing on the young -Baronet's face; "a minute ago you were all for staying, and now you -must be gone."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am, perhaps, whimsical," replied Morley Ernstein; "I have become so -lately. However, before I go, let me speak a word or two with you on -your own affairs. You talk of going to America, if I understood you -rightly. I do not wish to hear why, or anything about it--I can guess, -perhaps; but two women and a child must be a burden to you under such -circumstances. If they like to come up to Warmstone, while you make -your escape, there is a vacant cottage, I hear from my agent, which -they can have, till they go to join you. Some furniture can be sent -down from the Castle, and if you think fit, I will give full orders -before I leave Warmstone, for I shall not be there more than a day."</p> - -<p class="normal">Harry Martin had risen while Morley was speaking, and was gazing in -his face, with an expression in which doubt and suspicion seemed to -mingle with satisfaction. "I don't think you would play me a trick, -sir," he said, as Morley concluded, "and yet it's strange enough, your -starting up in that way the moment the old woman mentioned Lawyer -Carr!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley returned his gaze with a look of unmixed surprise, "I don't -understand what you mean," he answered; "what have you to do with -Lawyer Carr? or Lawyer Carr to do with you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Everything in the world," cried Harry Martin, knitting his brows, and -stamping his foot--"everything in the world--don't you know that?"</p> - -<p class="normal">It was the old woman who now replied, for she seemed now the most -astonished of the party, and catching Martin by the arm, she -asked--"Is it old Carr, then, that you are afraid of? He had better -not touch a hair of your head!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nonsense--nonsense, granny!" said the man; "you don't understand what -you are talking about. But I see Sir Morley has not heard of the job. -Sir, I'm very much obliged to you for your offer, and wont say No, but -will just talk to my wife about it after you are gone, if it would not -be too much trouble for you to give the orders upon the chance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will not fail to have the place put in order," replied Morley; "and -you may be sure that if they do come, they shall be well taken care -of. As for yourself, Martin, I can offer you nothing, for your own -words have, of course, given me to suspect that you have placed -yourself in a situation which precludes me from affording you shelter, -or any sort of aid, except of a pecuniary kind. If, however, you are -in want of money, all that I have about me is at your service."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thank you, sir," said Martin, with a light, laugh at the double -meaning of that which was about to spring from his lips; "I am very -much obliged to you, but I do not want your money, or I would have -taken it, I can assure you.--Though that is not true either," he -added; "I might have taken a stranger's, but not yours, Sir Morley; -but the fact is, I don't want money."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of that I am very happy," answered Morley; "but I cannot help -expressing a regret, Martin, that you should adhere to a course so -dangerous as well as so evil. I thought, when first I saw you, and -think still, that you were intended for better things, and might -distinguish yourself, and raise yourself high in a good and honourable -course."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man he spoke to cast down his eyes, and gazed musingly upon the -ground for several minutes, but he then replied--"Thank you, sir, for -your good opinion; but it's all nonsense talking or thinking of such -things now--it's too late in the day to mend. The worst of the laws of -this country, and of what people call society, is, that they never -allow any man to get better. A man may get worse in this world every -day, if he likes it; the bad road is always open before him, and -plenty there are to drive him on upon it. But if he tries to go back -again, sir, to the good road that he has left, there is sure to be -some one to bang the turnpike in his face, and stop him ere he has got -half a mile. I cannot help thinking, sir, that it is a pity those men -who set about making laws and customs, do not recollect that there is -such a thing as amending as well as punishing. I believe it would be -better for all of us if they did; for now, even a hardened scoundrel -like myself, as they would call me if I were in a prison tomorrow, -why, a very little thing would have made me a better man at one time, -and I don't believe it would take very much even now. It may be an odd -thing to say, for a man who does something wrong every day, that he -never does anything that is wrong without being sorry for it very soon -after it's done; but yet it is true; and, even now, a word or two of -encouragement, such as you spoke to me just this minute, makes me feel -quite vexed with myself that I have not gone in the right way instead -of the wrong."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is some truth in what you say," replied Morley, "that our laws -and our customs, in dealing both with man and woman, seem to lose -sight altogether of the great object of reformation. Terror is the -only instrument we use, and terror never yet reclaimed. Nevertheless, -though the path back, Martin, must always be more difficult and -laborious than the path onward, still I believe it may be trodden, if -a man have a strong heart and a good resolution; and I trust that, -when you have made your escape to another country, and are out of -danger altogether, you will think of what we have been saying tonight, -and will see whether, in a new world, you cannot live a new life.</p> - -<p class="normal">"On my soul and honour I will, sir!" replied the man, eagerly. "I'll -do my best, at all events. I'll tell you what it is, Sir Morley -Ernstein--the thing that ruins half of us is want of hope. The least -little bit of hope would very often lead on a man to do much better, -but we don't get it, sir. Once we have done amiss, as the world goes -now, there's no object in stopping. However, sir, I have had some -encouragement, and, as I said just now, I'll do my best, if I can -contrive to get off this time."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I trust you may do both," replied Morley--"I trust you may do both, -my good friend, for I believe that you are not without good feelings, -if they were well directed. But I will now go on, and before to-morrow -night the cottage shall be all ready for your wife and her mother."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay a bit, sir," said Harry Martin; "I'll walk up with you beyond -the pitmen's hovels. They are somewhat of a wild set, and some of them -may be stirring yet."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley threw the rein of his horse over his arm, and walked on with -Harry Martin by his side. Most men would have considered it not the -safest sort of companionship in the world; but no idea of danger to -himself crossed the young Baronet's mind, and his thoughts, to say the -truth, were busy in a struggle which every one must have endured who -has felt for his fellow-creatures.</p> - -<p class="normal">Amongst all the pieces of casuistry which man puts to his own heart, -there is none more difficult, I might say more painful, to resolve, -than the question of where lenity should stop and just severity begin; -how far, in short, compassion for an offender may be extended, without -injustice to the innocent and to society. I must not say that Morley -felt a strong inclination to aid the man, Martin, in making his -escape, for that was not altogether the sensation which affected him; -but he did regret sincerely, that what he owed to the laws of his -country, prevented him from aiding, in the least degree, the flight of -one whom he believed to be formed for better things, and in whom he -saw, or thought he saw, a tendency to repentance, which would -certainly lead to a new course of life. Nevertheless, he felt that he -had no right to place his individual opinion, his hopes or -expectations, of the man's reformation in direct opposition to the law -of the land, and, consequently, he felt anxious to turn from the -subject as soon as possible, though he felt some difficulty in so -doing.</p> - -<p class="normal">Harry Martin himself, however, soon relieved him by speaking -first--"Pray, Sir Morley," he said--"can you tell me what has become -of that young scamp, William Barham? I saw him after he escaped from -being drowned--which he never will be, if there's truth in the old -proverb--for he is as bad a youth as ever lived or died unhanged. He -partly put me up to this last job, and then, when it was done, sneaked -out of the way somewhere, and I never could get sight of him -afterwards."</p> - -<p class="normal">The recollection of the last time he had seen William Barham was, -as the reader may suppose, agitating to Morley Ernstein; but he was -more upon his guard upon the present occasion, than when all the -painful circumstances of his fate had been suddenly recalled to his -mind, a few minutes before, by the questions of the old woman. He -paused for a moment, indeed, ere he replied; but he then answered -calmly enough--"Not many days ago, he was staying at the house of Mr. -Carr, at Yelverly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" replied his companion; "the young villain's betraying me: he is -fit to sell his own soul, though it is not worth buying if he did; but -he had better take care what he is about, or I will break his neck for -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do nothing rashly, Martin," replied Morley Ernstein; "he is, I -believe, bad enough; but I have a faint recollection of having heard -that some connexion or other has been discovered between him and Mr. -Carr--some relationship or friendship between their parents--I forget -what; but, certainly, it had no reference to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I trust it has not," replied Martin, in the same stern tone with -which he had before spoken; but he still seemed dissatisfied, and -continued to walk by Morley's side in silence, till they had passed a -long row of low-built cottages, and had gone on for about half a mile -on the moor. At length he paused, and pointing on the road before him, -he said--"That is your way, sir. About a mile on you will find a -finger-post, with two roads separating to the right and left; take the -left-hand road, and follow it till you come to a village, where you -must get further directions. Good night, sir!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley wished him good night, and was about to proceed, but he thought -he perceived a degree of hesitation in the man's manner, which made -him pause for a moment. "You seem to have something more to tell me, -Martin," he said; "speak without reserve, if you have."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, there is a word or two, sir," replied Harry Martin, approaching -close to his horse's side, and speaking in a low tone. "If things go -right with me, and I get away, it's all well and good; but you know, -sir, matters may go another way, and then the game's up. As for dying, -I declare, I care no more about it, than about going to sleep; but you -see, sir, there's my poor wife--she is as good a girl as ever lived, -and I don't know how or why it is, but since we were married it has -made a great difference in me. I am not half so wild as I was before; -and I have got a sort of tenderness, if I may call it so, towards all -women for her sake. I believe it is, that I did no rightly know what a -good woman was before I married her; but it is very different now, and -that is the only thing that rests upon my mind. You see, sir, she has -never been used to hard work, but has been brought up as a sort of a -lady, and if I were gone, what would come of her? I think, if I knew -she would be well taken care of, I should not care for anything in -life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Make your mind easy," said Morley, "though I cannot exactly say what -I should be able to do for her under such circumstances; I will -promise you to see her established in some honest way of life--some -small school, or other thing, that does not imply any severe -exertion."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man made no answer, but he grasped the young Baronet's hand tight, -in a way that was not to be mistaken, and thus they parted.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein rode on more slowly than during the former -part of his -journey. His mood was changed, another spirit had come over him. It -was no longer the rash, and reckless vehemence of bitter, perhaps we -might call it angry, disappointment, that tenanted his bosom; but it -was the dark, sad, listlessness of a heart which has given up all -expectation for itself, and only lives faintly in its sympathies with -others. If ever the poet's words were made true, it was in his case, -for "black care did, indeed, sit behind the horseman," and was his -only companion by the way. His mind rested frequently, it is true, -upon the fate and character of the man he had just left, but it was -with a vague, careless, indistinctness of thought, very, very -different from the keen and eager scrutiny which he gave to every -phase of human life, in former times. He thought too, occasionally, of -himself--of the change which he felt had come upon him--of the -lifelessness of the world around--of the painful memories of the -past--of the dull and cheerless prospects of the future. He asked -himself, what he should do to fill up existence? and he answered -himself, with a bitter smile--"It will pass somehow, I suppose; and -the space which now seems long, will probably then seem short. Man's -eye in youth is at the wrong end of the telescope. It is in age that -we see clearly how short are the spaces over which we have passed."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus musing, he wended on his way, his journey being much like the -life he contemplated--dull, gloomy, dark, and long; but yet, mile -after mile, slipping away he scarcely knew how. At length, he saw a -faint redness in the sky before him, but took little notice, thinking -that it was occasioned by another of the waste coal-fires. It grew -redder and redder, however, and touches of warm yellow began to -brighten the edges of the clouds--</p> - -<p class="normal">"Can it be morning already?" he said; but the clear grey which took -place of the blackness of night, soon shewed him, that another day had -indeed begun.</p> - -<p class="normal">A little more than an hour after dawn brought him to a bridge over a -small stream, but he made his horse pass through the water, and -suffered it to pause to drink. As he did so he gazed around him, and -his eyes rested upon a scene strongly characteristic of that part of -the country.</p> - -<p class="normal">From the edge of the river stretched up a small field full of ripe -corn, which, notwithstanding the advanced period of the year, had not -yet felt the sickle. Beyond, the land rose, swelling gradually into a -considerable hill, about half way up which appeared an old grey stone -mansion, with a wide sort of park before it, spreading down to the -edge of the cornfield, and covered with short grass. On either side of -the house, stretching half way down the hill, with somewhat prim -regularity of outline, was seen a large, dark mass of wood, leaving -the open space of park lawn between, unencumbered by a single tree of -any kind. The only object that broke the calm, still regularity of the -scene was a group of fine deer, which trotted at an easy pace across -the park, as if seeking for some other spot, where the herbage was -richer, or the sheltering fern more abundant.</p> - -<p class="normal">The house itself was of a castellated form, and a part of it had -evidently been built at that period when each man was obliged to hold -his own with a strong hand, and the sword of justice was impotent to -protect those who could not find shelter within walls and battlements. -Various plans had been adopted to give modern comforts to the ancient -habitation; windows had superseded loop-holes, and gardens had been -laid out where the spears once bristled and the cannon roared. Morley -did not in the least recollect the mansion, for he had not seen it -since he was an infant; but, nevertheless, from the descriptions which -he had heard, he instantly recognised the house he was in search of; -and, finding his way to a gate, he entered the park, and was soon in -the court-yard of his own dwelling.</p> - -<p class="normal">Servants had gone down before him; everything had been prepared for -his reception; the place looked as gay and bright as it was possible -to make it; and the time had been, not long before, when Morley would -have walked well pleased through the long, wainscoted corridors and -quaint old rooms,--would have enjoyed that calm look of the past which -ancient houses have about them; and might have compared it to the -tranquil aspect of a good old man at the end of a happy life, and -wished that his own latter day might come with as little decay and as -much quiet cheerfulness. Now, however, he walked straight to the old -drawing-room, without looking either to the right or left, and cast -himself down in a chair, each new thing which the hopes of the past -had linked to happiness in the future, producing nothing but bitter -pain, now that the golden chain was broken by the hand of -disappointment. The first sight of the old dwelling had instantly -brought back the bitterness to his heart, and the entrance into his -home only made him recollect that that home was to be for ever -companionless.</p> - -<p class="normal">His old servant, Adam Gray, had followed him, and marked his haggard -eye and faded cheek with pain. He sought for no explanation, -however--he wanted none; for, with the instinct of old affection, he -had divined the grand cause of the sorrow he beheld, and cared little -for the minor particulars. It was wonderful, too, how accurately the -old man guessed the course which grief and disappointment would take -with his master's mind.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am afraid, sir," he said, "that you have been up all night. Had you -not better lie down for an hour or two? Your room is quite ready, for -we expected you last night, and I waited up till two o'clock, thinking -you might come."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I should not sleep, Adam," replied Morley; "and it is as well to -remain awake where I am--where there are things to employ the eyes -upon--as to shut out everything but thought, which is not pleasant to -me just now, good Adam. Let me have some coffee, my good friend, and -afterwards I will walk round the place with you, for I have something -to give you in charge, Adam. You must see to it yourself, after I am -gone away."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Gone away, sir!" exclaimed the old man; "I hope you don't intend to -go very soon. There is a great deal to be done here, sir--a great deal -that would amuse and please you, I am sure."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It must be done by others," answered Morley, sadly; "I shall return -to Morley Court to-morrow morning. There I shall stay but a day or two -ere I set out for London. From London I shall most likely go to the -Continent; but I have not fixed upon any plan yet. Get me the coffee, -Adam."</p> - -<p class="normal">It is a sad sign when, in youth--the period of innumerable plans, when -everything is to be attempted, and nothing seems impossible--the -scheme of the future is left vague and undefined. The prospects, the -views, the purposes may change every hour, and afford no indication of -anything but youth's bright eagerness; but still each hour must have -its plan for the next, or you may well pronounce the heart to be -vacant, desolate, or broken. It is my firm belief, that the history of -a man's past life, as far, at least, as its happiness or unhappiness -is concerned, may almost always be told distinctly from the plans he -can form for the future. It is the burden of disappointment that -weighs down the butterfly wings of expectation that carry us insects -on from flower to flower.</p> - -<p class="normal">The old man well understood that such is the case; and he grieved more -at seeing his master without plans and purposes, than at any of the -other signs of listlessness and sorrow which his whole conduct -displayed. He brought him the coffee, then, in silence; he laid out -the breakfast table with care; he found a thousand little excuses for -lingering in the room; and he watched his master's countenance, with -that sort of anxious but humble attachment, which is rarely to be -found anywhere but in an old servant or a faithful dog. For, alas! -truth and honour, and true, deep love, are jewels more frequently to -be found in the plain oak coffer than the gilded casket. At length, he -ventured to say, in a low tone, as if it were more an involuntary -observation he was making for his own relief, than intended for the -ear of the young Baronet--"Well, I did not think Miss Juliet would -have done so!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley raised his finger sternly, with a knitted brow, but he only -said--"Leave me!" and the old man, seeing that a touch upon the wound -was agony, quitted the drawing-room, sorry for the words that he had -uttered.</p> - -<p class="normal">As soon as he was gone, Morley Ernstein rose from his seat, and, with -his hands clasped together, and his eyes cast down, strode up and down -for several minutes, in bitter meditations. Hitherto the feelings of -heart-broken disappointment--disappointment of the best and brightest -hopes of his existence--the crushing of the sweetest, the tenderest, -the most elevating sensations of his heart, had been unmingled with -any other passion. It had been alone deep sorrow--despair, if one -will--but now the words of the old servant threw in a new ingredient.</p> - -<p class="normal">I have not represented the character of Morley Ernstein as a perfect -one, for he was anything but perfect, and now--to use what may be -considered a strange expression--one of the most powerful weaknesses -of man's nature was called into action by finding that he was an -object of commiseration to others. Vanity, oh, reader!--vanity, which -lurks in some shape or in some disguise in every human breast, perhaps -without exception--vanity, which is the spring of more actions, good -as well as bad, noble as well as base, than have ever been catalogued -to any other author--vanity, which has made kings and conquerors, -prelates and statesmen, saints and hermits--vanity, which has led men -to the height of pomp, and the lowest acts of humiliation, was roused -in the breast of Morley Ernstein by the one sentence that old Adam -Gray had spoken, and took its course according to the peculiarities of -his character. He felt himself an object of compassion, and he loved -not to be so. There was a feeling of being lowered, degraded, in -knowing that his misery had been observed and pitied; and he muttered -to himself--"This must not be: I shall have my tale of disappointment -sent over all the world. I shall be called love-sick, broken-hearted; -I shall be laughed at by unfeeling puppies, commiserated by -sentimental girls, and scorned by the cold and calculating, who know -nothing of life but its material things. Though she has contrived to -make my existence desolate, and to chill the warm fountain of my -heart's blood into ice, yet I must not suffer myself to become an -object of contempt or neglect. I must move and act in this world as if -it still had matters of interest for me. I must taste of pleasure, -since I cannot taste of happiness; and I must have occupation, -amusement, gaiety, as I cannot have calm tranquillity and domestic -joy. I, too, will do as others do--make my face a mask for my heart, -teach my voice to become but as an instrument of music, to give forth -what sounds art may make me seek to produce, and shut up my spirit -with all the fetters of disappointment heavy upon it, as an unseen -captive within the prison of this earthly frame. Such shall be my -scheme of life; and, come what may, I will follow it with the stern -determination of one who can find for the future no obstacle in all -the things of a world, which is now become a place of emptiness and -vanity in his eyes, no guiding channels for his conduct in those -customs and usages which have lost their importance for ever. I am -afraid, however," he continued, "that I spoke somewhat harshly to that -poor old man. Heaven forbid that I should give him pain!--There is -nothing upon earth of sufficient value to justify us in making even a -worm writhe."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein sat down, drank some of the coffee, more to shew that -he had used the breakfast things set down before him than from -appetite, and then rang for his old servant. It was another, however, -who now appeared, and Morley had to send for Adam Gray, not indeed -with the intention of referring at all to the stern answer he had -given, or to anything which had passed, but merely to evince towards -him that kindness and confidence which he knew would be the best -atonement for any harshness.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, Adam," he said, in a tone not cheerful indeed, but less gloomy -than before, "shew me which is my dressing-room, and while I shave and -change my clothes, you shall give me some account of all the wonders -of Warmstone. Then you shall take a walk with me round the place, and -we will talk of the disposal of one or two of the cottages that are -vacant."</p> - -<p class="normal">The old man was well pleased; and, standing by his master's side, -while he dressed and refreshed himself after his long night's ride, -Adam Gray, with some degree of loquacity, which, though not -inseparable from age, is its very frequent companion, proceeded to -relate and comment upon a thousand little particulars which he had -remarked since his arrival at Warmstone three or four days before. He -believed firmly that he was driving from his master's mind some -painful remembrances, though, to say the truth, ere he had pronounced -a dozen sentences, Morley's mind was far away, and the words were -gathered by his ear, bearing but a small part of their meaning with -them, like over-ripe corn which drops the grain ere it be garnered. -Occasionally, indeed, he saw that the old man paused for an answer, -and to satisfy him he replied at random, sometimes successfully as far -as sense went, but sometimes with words totally inapplicable to what -had gone before, and then Adam Gray explained again, and Morley was -obliged to listen more attentively.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length his toilet was concluded, and, taking his hat and gloves, he -sauntered forth, followed by the old servant, half a step behind. It -was a pleasant, but somewhat cold day, for the time of year, and -strange were the sensations of the young gentleman as he strolled -forward over the short turf, gilded by the autumnal sunshine, with the -woods just beginning to grow brown upon their edges, resting calm in -the tranquil noontide, and an antique solitude of aspect spread over -the whole place. Guided through the tall oaks and beeches on the -right, Adam Gray led him to the old pleasure grounds of the castle, -where high walls of thick black yew, trimmed with the utmost neatness, -flanked broad gravel walks, and protected from the wind various formal -beds of flowers, which, though well kept, and not selected amiss, were -shewing a good deal the hand of autumn. Half way down the principal -walk was a small grassy mound with a sun-dial, on one side of which -was inscribed the name of some former proprietor of the castle, who -had erected it, and thus thought to save himself for a little from -oblivion, while on the other side was inscribed a quaint old rhyme, -shewing the vanity of all temporal things, as if intended as a curious -comment on the vain memento of the opposite face.</p> - -<p class="normal">A few yards beyond the time-teller appeared the first living thing -which Morley had seen since he issued forth from the house. It was an -old gardener, who seemed in shape to have imitated the sun-dial, with -the erection of which, it is probable, his birth was coeval. He was -habited in a longwaisted coat, with broad flaps and large pockets, and -his breeches, which scarcely covered his knees and mounted no farther -than his hips, displayed a portion of a coarse, but very white shirt -about his stomach, and were fastened with large silver buckles just -above the calves of his legs. Similar buckles of still vaster -dimensions appeared on his shoes, and the costume was completed by a -pigtail and a low-crowned broad-brimmed hat. He was hale and hearty, -though upwards of eighty-five, and his profession was marked by the -spade on which he leant, and which had been familiar with his hand for -more than two-thirds of a century.</p> - -<p class="normal">Reader, will you forgive me when I acknowledge that this antique -gardener has nothing to do with our history, but yet I could not -forbear giving you this little picture of a sort of being which has -passed away for ever. Morley advanced to the old man and spoke a few -words to him, the answers to which were as quaint as his attire; and -when his young master had passed on, the gardener continued to rest -upon his spade, and look after him with an expression of calm, -speculative thought, evidently regarding him merely as a new sort of -plant, and wondering, perhaps, what sort of flower or fruit he would -bear.</p> - -<p class="normal">From the garden, Morley and his old servant proceeded across the park -to the little village which lay upon the property at the distance of -about a mile from the house. Morley walked through it, spoke to the -different cottagers, enquired into their situation, gave some -directions regarding them, and then told Adam Gray to take him to the -two small houses which he had said were untenanted. The old man then -led him back upon the road towards Warmstone Castle, but turning, soon -after, up a broad well-kept path by the side of a stream, he conducted -his master into a little glen, at the end of which might be seen a -small water-mill. Some way further down, however, between the mouth of -the glen and the mill, were two pretty stone cottages joined together, -with a little sweep of the hill behind them, and a garden in the front -coming down to the path.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You seem to know this place well, Adam," said Morley, "though you -cannot have been much here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, bless you! yes, sir," replied the man. "In your father's time we -used to spend four or five months at Warmstone every year, and as it -was his particular wish that it should be well kept up, Mr. Hamilton -has sent me over once or twice a year since."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley made no reply, but walked on with the melancholy feeling of the -passing away of all things more strong upon him than ever; and he -could not help thinking that the lingering of earthly affection, which -teaches us in the hour of death to care for even inanimate things, and -provide for their preservation after we ourselves have fallen into the -ruin of the tomb, is like the clinging love which the human heart will -sometimes feel towards a fellow-being, the thoughtful tenderness, the -longing aspiration for the happiness of another, which will continue -to exist throughout our being, long after the despair of ever uniting -our fate with hers, has trampled out the selfishness of passion. He -felt that such was the case with himself; and that, though from some -unexplained causes, Juliet Carr had left him hopeless and miserable, -with a heart dead to all the fond expectations of love, yet for her, -and for her happiness, he would always pray, would think of her when -he was careless of himself, and feel an interest in her when all the -rest of the world was nothing but an empty show.</p> - -<p class="normal">He stopped opposite the gate of the cottage garden, while the old man -went in and opened the doors and windows. Morley then shook off the -load of thought, and looked round the place, examining the different -rooms, and seeing that all was in a state of good repair. Although a -place destined to be the scene of busy life always looks somewhat -melancholy when vacant, there was an air of comfort about the cottage -which satisfied the young Baronet, and turning to Adam Gray, he -said--"You must stay here a day or two, Adam, after I have gone to -town. Have a sufficient quantity of furniture, of a suitable kind, -brought down here from the castle, and let the garden be put in -somewhat better order. Probably to-morrow, or the next day, you will -have an application about the cottage from some people whom I have -promised to let it to rent free--a respectable-looking old woman and -her daughter, a younger one, with a little boy, her child. The younger -woman--and, indeed, both--have been in a better situation. You will -therefore do everything to make them comfortable."</p> - -<p class="normal">The old man gazed in his master's face for a moment, without reply; -but then enquired--"May I ask what is the old lady's name, Sir Morley? -for a great many old ladies might come, you know."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is not likely," replied Morley; "but I have almost forgotten her -name, my good Adam, though it is one, I believe, you ought to know, -for she lived near Morley Court, in my father's time. Oh, I remember -now!--her name is More, the widow of Serjeant More."</p> - -<p class="normal">The old man's face changed in a moment--"The wife of Serjeant More -come back again!" he exclaimed. "We all heard that she had died in -India. Ha! I shall like to have a chat with her, of old times. Every -one said she was a very good woman--too good a woman to do a wicked -thing--but yet people did suspect that she did one thing which was not -quite right--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, my good Adam," said Morley, interrupting him, "the scandals of -the past have, doubtless, more interest for you than for me. You will -have plenty of time to hold any conversation you like with the old -lady, for I shall not want you in town till to-morrow week. In the -meantime, however, you must give directions for taking care of the -horses, and see that everything be put in good order, both at Morley -Court and here, for I am going to the Continent, good Adam, and shall -most likely be absent many months."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I hope you are not going without me, sir," exclaimed the old man. "I -would fain go with you, if you please; for if you leave me behind, I -shall take a sad fancy that I shall never see you again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It shall be as you like, Adam," replied Morley. "It is the custom, my -good old friend, on these occasions, to take with one a personage, -who, according to the law of fashion, must not be one's own -countryman, nor have one single tie to the master whom he serves. His -business is, to pay postmasters and postilions more than they ought to -have, to aid the landlords of inns, and the officers of Custom-houses, -the cicerone and the waiter in plundering his employer to the best of -his abilities, to run away from him in case of danger, and to -appropriate such parts of his goods and chattels, in case of sickness -or death, as may be most easily secreted. This personage is called a -courier; and as I go, you know, in the quality of an English gentleman -of fashion, such a piece of roguery is, of course, a necessary -appendage to my travelling carriage. You may go with me too, however, -if you like; but there is one bargain which I must make with you--no -complaints or representations in regard to the courier! You must even -let him cheat me according to the best esteemed mode, till I find him -out myself in something too gross, and then--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"What will you do then, sir?" demanded Adam Gray, in a quiet tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Throw him out of the window," answered Morley.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">We must pass over the space of two days, and then return to -the -cottage, of which we have spoken in the last chapter, having now to -dwell for some time upon the fate and history of persons in a very -different station of life, and of a very different character from Sir -Morley Ernstein. Yet let not the reader think that we thus go from -scene to scene, and from person to person--leaving those for whom we -have just created an interest, almost as soon as that interest is -excited, and turning to others whom the reader cares little -about--from any wantonness of imagination, or carelessness of plan. On -the contrary, it is done deliberately and designedly; not only because -it is in the ordinary course of nature, and because the fates of the -great and the small, the good and the bad, the wise and the foolish, -are linked together in such a manner throughout the whole scheme of -human life, that they all affect each other in the most intimate -manner, but also because it is absolutely necessary to pursue such a -course, in order that the reader may, in the least degree, comprehend -the story of this book. Let him be forewarned, then, that if he misses -one chapter, one page, or perhaps one sentence, he may very probably -lose the key to the whole, and understand no more at the end than he -did at the beginning; for the destiny of each person herein spoken of, -was so twined and intertwisted with that of the others, by the decree -of fate, that the life, property, and happiness of the greatest and -the best amongst them, was often entirely dependent upon the actions -of the least and the worst, and the ultimate result of all was brought -about by circumstances that seemed the most trivial.</p> - -<p class="normal">To the cottage, then, we must turn, on the evening of the second day -after that on which Sir Morley Ernstein had visited it; premising, -that the young Baronet had set off for London on the day after we last -saw him. The little tenement had undergone a considerable change, and -though it may seem strange to attribute anything like poetry to tables -and chairs, yet I must say there was the poetry of comfort about -it--ay, dear reader, there is a poetry in anything which calls up -before the eye of imagination all the sweet relationships of domestic -life; the household joys, the bright hearth's happy circle, parental -fondness, the husband's protecting care, the wife's devoted love. -There is a poetry in it all, the blandest, the most soothing to the -human heart; for it is the poetry of the purest happiness that man is -permitted to know on earth. That sort of poetry had been produced in -the cottage I have spoken of, by the change from the vacant rooms, and -dull uncovered walls, to the cheerful, furnished cottage-kitchen, with -the bright fire blazing on the hearth, the long row of shelves loaded -with various articles for daily use, all clean and shining; the -polished oaken table in the midst, the stools and seats around, the -large chair by the fire, and a thousand little objects, not of -absolute necessity, perhaps, but which all more or less contribute to -comfort; for good old Adam Gray had taken an interest in the orders -his masters gave him, and had forgotten nothing--no, not even a small -crib for the child.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the moment that we speak of, the elder woman, whom the little boy -himself has introduced to us by the name of Granny, was seated in the -arm-chair by the fire, and looking round with a feeling of relief and -satisfaction, though her face was somewhat worn with the anxiety and -watching which she had undergone during the last week, and with being -hunted, as she expressed it, like a wild beast, over the moors. The -boy, her grandson, was on the floor near her feet, rolling to and fro -a large round mass of wood, which was used to keep the cottage-door -open in fine weather; while his mother was gazing down upon him with a -look of sorrowful affection; and in her eyes might be read deep and -sad comments upon, the fate of her child, upon human love, and human -errors. Oh! could one have seen into her heart at that moment, how -touching--how strangely touching--would have been the terrible -blending of intense affection, and strong anxiety, and profound -sorrow, which would have been found there as she gazed upon her boy!</p> - -<p class="normal">The two women had been in the house for several hours, but had been -busily engaged in arranging all things in their future abode, so that -this was the first moment that leisure had been found for calm -contemplation. Neither mother nor daughter spoke for some time, and -nothing was heard but the ticking of the clock behind the door, and -the rolling to and fro of the wooden ball by the little boy. Suddenly, -however, there was a footfall in the garden, and the younger woman -started and listened, but the moment after she shook her head, -saying--"It is not he."</p> - -<p class="normal">The well-known music of the step we love, the sweetest of all sounds -to those who have been long absent from the arms of affection, was not -there. It was the slow and heavy tread of an old man, and in another -minute, after tapping at the door, good Adam Gray entered the cottage -and approached the fire. He had not thought fit to be present when the -little party took possession of their new dwelling; but he now came, -both to see that his young master's orders had been executed, and to -satisfy, in some degree, his own curiosity upon more than one point.</p> - -<p class="normal">The younger woman had said--"Come in!" and her mother had turned round -to see who it was that entered, but the eye of the latter rested upon -the form of the old butler without the slightest sign of recognition. -He gazed upon her in return as he advanced; but whether it was that -his memory was better, or that she was less changed by time than he -was, it was very evident, from the expression of his countenance, that -he saw in her an old acquaintance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good evening," he said--"good evening. I hope you find everything -comfortable here. It was my young master's strict order that I should -do everything to make you so."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thank you, sir," replied the younger woman, with a tone and manner -that would not have disgraced any society, "we are deeply indebted to -Sir Morley Ernstein, and have found everything far more comfortable -than we could even hope, certainly far more than we had any right to -expect."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am glad to hear it--I am glad to hear it," said good Adam Gray. "But -by your leave, ma'am, I will take a chair. I have come here as an old -friend, Mrs. More; do you not recollect me? Do you not recollect Adam -Gray?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The old woman looked in his face with some surprise--"And are you Mr. -Gray, the butler?" she asked. "Why, your hair used to be as black as -jet, and you seemed to me taller by a couple of inches."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay," answered old Adam, "'tis very true, good dame--'tis very true -indeed; but time, you know, will whiten the hair and bow the body, and -I do not stand near so tall as I once did. Good lack! when I look in -the looking-glass, I can scarcely recollect what I was like twenty -years ago. You are much changed, too, Dame More, though not so much as -I am, I think. You were a buxom woman in those days, and we were all -sorry when you left the village, though some said it was for your own -good; but others shook the head, you know, Dame More."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well they might," said the old woman, in a low, sad tone, fixing her -eyes upon the fire--"well they might, indeed!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Adam Gray and his old acquaintance sat silent for several minutes, -evidently engaged in meditations over the past; and the younger woman; -feeling, perhaps, that their thoughts were busy about things which -were not familiar to her own mind, laid hold of the arm of her little -boy, who was staring inquisitively in the face of the stranger, -saying--"Come, Dick, it is time for you to go to bed, boy, and rest -your young limbs."</p> - -<p class="normal">The child went away willingly enough, and the old man and woman were -left alone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, Mrs. More," said Adam Gray, "I am glad that we have met once -again in life, though I suppose you will be as silent about all the -stories of those days as you were when last I saw you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I don't know that," answered the old woman, musing; "times have -changed, Mr. Gray, and I may not care to talk about things now that I -did not choose to talk about then. Sir Morley Ernstein has been kind -to me, too--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"And I am sure so was his father," said the butler.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes," replied she, "so he was; but, as I have said, times have -changed, and those who were then befriending me and mine, may now be -persecuting us. However, I shall say nothing till I see what comes of -it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I should like very much, however, to hear all that story," rejoined -Adam Gray, "and I am sure I would not say a word to any one. It is -only for my own satisfaction I speak, and to know if my good master -was right or wrong in what he said."</p> - -<p class="normal">The old woman gazed for an instant down upon the ground, then turned -her eyes upon the old man with a very strange expression, saying--"He -was wrong, M. Gray; and I told him what was true. Yet, odd as it may -seem, he was right too, and I deceived him. I will tell you what, you -where always a good-hearted man, and a sensible one, and some day or -another I'll tell you the whole story, but it sha'n't be now."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It must be every soon, then," said Adam Gray, "for I am going to -London in two days, and to the Continent immediately after."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That will do!" cried the old woman--"that will do quite well."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you mean when I come back again?" demanded Adam Gray. "Who can -tell, good dame, when that may be? Who can tell whether it ever will -be?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I don't mean that," said the old woman, somewhat peevishly, "but I -mean that you are not likely to tell it again till I am dead and -buried, and then you may tell it if you like; so you shall hear all -before you go, if you will promise to keep it a secret, as I have -done, till I be gone to join my husband and my son."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, where are they?" Asked Adam Gray. "I thought you were a widow, -Dame More. Did you leave your husband and your son in India?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes," replied the old woman, fixing her eyes upon the fire--"I left -them in the grave."</p> - -<p class="normal">The good old servant seemed somewhat shocked that he had called up -such painful memories, and after remaining silent for a short time, -Dame More, as he called her, went on--"There is many a thing, Mr. -Gray," she said, "that I may weep for, and many a thing that I wish -had gone otherwise; but there is only one thing that I repent, and -that is what we are now talking about. If you will come to me -to-morrow, however, I will tell you all about it, for I do wish some -one person to know the thing besides myself. Your master is too young, -or I would have told him; and Harry, my girl's husband, is too wild -and not to be trusted; and if I told Jane herself, she would never -keep it from her husband; so I will tell you, because I believe you -have always been an honest man--I should like to know that Harry gets -safe away first, however, for if that man persecutes him, I will stop -him, or have vengeance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Vengeance!" observed the old man--"vengeance, my good dame, is like a -sword without a hilt, sure to cut the hands of those that use it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It may be so, Mr. Gray," replied the old woman--"it may be so, -indeed, but I must save him, for my poor girl's sake."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not exactly understand what you mean," said Adam Gray. But the -old woman shook her head, replying, "You had better not. However, I -will tell you at all events, for it is fit that some one should know. -Life is uncertain at the best, and at my years it's but like the -dying flame of a candle, flickering up and down before it goes out -for ever.--Come, you shall hear the story now," she continued; "but -first let me go and tell the girl not to come down. Poor Jane! she -has enough sad secrets of her own without having to bear mine too."</p> - -<p class="normal">The old woman rose from her chair, supporting herself by the arm, for -she seemed somewhat stiff, and was turning towards the door which led -to the staircase, when her daughter's step was heard descending -quickly, and Jane Martin entered with an eager look, saying--"He is -there--he is there! I heard his step in the garden. I am sure he is -there!" and as she spoke, she turned her eyes with an apprehensive -glance from the countenance of her mother to that of Adam Gray.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You may trust him--you may trust him!" cried the old woman. "Open the -door, Jane, and see. Do not be afraid, girl--you may trust him, I -say."</p> - -<p class="normal">The younger woman approached the door with a quiet and noiseless step, -and lifting the latch, looked out. A quick and eager respiration was -all that was heard, but the moment she had opened the door, she darted -out, and returned the instant after, with her fair slight form clasped -round by the powerful arm of her husband.</p> - -<p class="normal">The eyes of Harry Martin rested at once upon Adam Gray, as he sat by -the fire, but it was with no expression of apprehension, and he -answered some words which his wife whispered rapidly to him, by -saying--"I understand--I understand, Jane."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adam Gray, however, saw at once that there was something more in the -situation of the parties than had been communicated to him by his -master; and, being a prudent and sagacious man, though not without his -share of curiosity, he rose after a few brief words had passed between -him and the rest, and took his leave, promising to return on the -following day, and have a further chat with Mrs. More.</p> - -<p class="normal">The night was somewhat dark as the old butler issued forth, and, -accustomed as his eyes had lately been to the light within the -cottage, he could scarcely see his way along the narrow gravel -foot-path which led from the door to the end of the little garden. -When he reached the low gate, however, a sudden light, proceeding from -some object which he could not distinguish, came in his face and -nearly blinded him, but the moment after, it ceased, and he caught the -faint outline of a man standing close by the palings.</p> - -<p class="normal">The appearance of this personage, who seemed to have a dark lantern -with him, was not at all satisfactory to good Adam Gray, but judging -that civility would be the best policy, he merely said, "Good night," -and passed through the gate. His friend with a lantern made no reply, -and Adam hurried down the little path which led towards the mansion -house, not by any means sure that certain notes, together with sundry -round pieces of gold and silver, which at that moment tenanted his -breeches pocket, would be permitted to remain in occupation till he -reached Warmstone Castle.</p> - -<p class="normal">On arriving at the high road, however, he saw another man advancing -rapidly towards him, but bearing in no degree the aspect of a person -of that neighbourhood. The stranger stopped exactly opposite to him, -but seemed more inclined to examine than to annoy him, and suffered -him to pass on, replying, "Good night," to Adam's salutation, in a -civil tone, but without any Northumbrian accent. The sight of a -post-chaise, standing in the road at some distance, put an end to the -good old man's apprehensions, though it did not clear up the mystery; -but wisely judging that the affair was no business of his, he made the -best of his way back to the castle, without taking any farther notice, -or enquiring into things that did not concern him.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">It was nearly twelve o'clock at night, and Harry Martin stood -with his -wife, gazing down upon their sleeping child. Curious as are all the -contrasts which life presents, there are few more extraordinary, more -full of deep and strange interest, than the contrast between the vices -and strong passions of unbridled manhood, and the calm reproachful -innocence of infancy. Oh! what a mirror it holds up to shew man, -hardened by sin, and strife, and selfishness, what he once was, what -he might still have been; and yet, how seldom do we take the reproof -to our hearts, how rarely do we apply to ourselves the comment which -is secretly made within us! The bold, reckless man who stood there and -gazed, felt a deep strain of solemn sensations, mingling with the -feelings of paternal love, which the sight of his child called forth. -But he asked himself not why or how it was that he experienced a -sorrowful emotion totally distinct from the idea of parting from the -beloved, as he gazed down upon the sleeping boy--an emotion which, if -he had investigated all the causes, he would have found to be the -voice of memory reproaching him for the innocence he had cast away.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, Jane," he said, at length, "it is no use lingering--I must go. -It would have been wiser, perhaps, not to come, but I could not go -without seeing you again, my dear girl. Six hours now will bring me to -the coast, and then the lugger the man talked of will soon take me to -Liverpool, and the 'Mary Anne' sails on Saturday morning; so I shall -soon be on my way to another far country, and you must follow as soon -as may be--Hark! I thought your mother was gone to bed!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is only the kitchen window," said his wife; "it makes that noise -when the wind shakes it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are sure that you have money enough for all that you want?" -continued her husband.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Quite sure," she answered; "more than enough, Harry. You know I have -not been accustomed to such extravagance as you have taught me. I can -do upon very little, and the passage-money I will put by and keep, -without--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hark!" he exclaimed, grasping her arm, and looking with a wild and -eager gaze towards the door. "There is certainly some one below."</p> - -<p class="normal">Jane turned as pale as death, for she distinctly heard a step, but she -lost not her courage--her husband's life was at stake, and the -resolute spirit of deep love rose up within her.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Out through that room behind," she said; "the window is not high; -then up the side of the hill, there are woods and moors. I will go -down and stop them. Away, Harry, away!" and printing one kiss upon his -cheek, she darted towards the staircase, and ran down, exclaiming, in -a tone of alarm that needed no affectation to assume--"Who is -there?--There is surely some one in the house! Mother, mother!" she -was heard to exclaim aloud; "here are strange men in the house! Who -are you?--what do you want here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It's no use talking, ma'am," said a voice the moment after, -proceeding from a stout, thickset personage, who stood in the middle -of the kitchen floor, while another man was thrusting himself through -the lattice window. "We want just to say a word or two to Mr. Martin, -and we must say it, too. He knows that the game's up well enough, so -it's no use dodging about in this way."</p> - -<p class="normal">The wife, however, continued to stand in the doorway that led to the -stairs, calling out aloud, "Mother! mother!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Even as he spoke, there were the sounds of a window thrown open above, -a leap, and steps running over the greensward; and Jane, giving a wild -scream, fell forward upon the floor.</p> - -<p class="normal">The officer, for such the person was whom she found in the occupation -of the kitchen below, sprang over her, and rushed up stairs; old Mrs. -More came down in her night-gear, and raised her daughter fainting -from the floor; and the other officer, who had been scrambling in by -the window, made his exit by the door, and ran round to the back of -the house. Numerous cries, shouts, and directions, were then heard, -vociferated by the man above, who at length leaped out of the window -himself, and seemingly took his way over the hill. Comparative silence -succeeded, though voices, shouting to each other, were still heard -faintly, and Jane was raising her head in her mother's arms, and -enquiring--"Is he safe?" when the distant report of a pistol came upon -the wind, then some fresh calling; and then all was silent. Jane and -the old woman listened with eager and beating hearts, but not a sound -more reached them to give them any satisfaction. At length, the child -in the room above, disturbed in its sleep by all that had taken place, -began to cry aloud, and the half-distracted mother ran up to soothe -it.</p> - -<p class="normal">Still no further sound broke upon the anxious ear from the hill side, -and hour after hour passed by without tale or tidings. Jane lay down -upon her bed towards the morning, and wept with fear and agitation, -but she slept not. At length the grey dawn appeared, and she rose to -go forth and see if she could gather anything to calm her anxiety, -from the appearance of the footsteps on the hill side. At the door, -however, she was met by one of the men whom she had seen the night -before. He had a dogged, sullen look, which she thought might proceed -from disappointment, and that itself was a relief to her; but when he -said, in a civil tone--"Good morning, ma'am, I have come to search the -house," the poor girl could have embraced him, for she misconstrued -his words, and imagined that he was still in pursuit of her husband.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You may search as much as you please," she said, with a lightened -heart; "you will find nobody here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"As to nobody," replied the officer, "I suppose you are right, ma'am; -but it's not body, but thing I'm looking for. We've got his body safe -enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What do you mean?" exclaimed Jane, nearly sinking to the earth, while -a new terror took possession of her heart, "His body!--you have not -killed him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no, no!" cried the officer; "he's safe and hearty, ma'am, don't -be afraid. I was only speaking as the lawyers do. We caught him in the -wood over the hill there, and we shall soon have his body into court, -for the assizes are just coming on, you know, and he's gone over to -Doncaster in a shay, which we had all ready for him, quite like a -gentleman, I can assure you. These foolish country constables would -never have caught him. They can deal with a stray thief, or a -horse-stealer, or any of your petty-larceny rogues, as the gentleman -says in the play; but they don't know how to manage a regular -professional man at all. So it is lucky for Mr. Martin, too, that they -had us down from London, for he'll be treated quite politely, you may -be sure. Howsoever, I must just go in and search the house, ma'am, for -some of the things may be here, you know."</p> - -<p class="normal">This long oration had fallen upon the ears of Jane like her husband's -knell of death, and retreating into the cottage kitchen, she sank down -on a chair, letting the man proceed with his search as he would. That -search disturbed, as a natural consequence, the mother of the -unfortunate wife; and while the poor girl sat by herself, with her -head drooping and her hands clasped on her knee, the image of -disconsolate bereavement, she heard Dame More's voice in eager -conversation with the officer, and at length distinguished the words -"I will prove him innocent. Do not you be so confident, for you shall -hear another story at the trial."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What, you will prove an alibi, my good woman?" said the officer, in a -sneering tone; "but that's an old go--it wont do this time. Juries are -getting accustomed to alibis; they don't answer now;--or, mayhap, you -committed the burglary yourself, and, if so, you had better come along -with me to Doncaster."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did not commit it myself," replied the old woman, in a stern -tone--"I did not commit it myself, nor can you prove that he committed -it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come, come," said the officer--"this is all gammon. What's in this -box, old lady? that's what we want to see at present."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Search, and you will see," answered Mrs. More. "We have nothing to -conceal from you here!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's coming it strong, howsoever," replied the man; and, leaving -him to pursue his search as he pleased, the old lady descended to -comfort her daughter.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Don't be afraid, Jane," she said--"don't be afraid; they shall do -nothing to him. It were worth as much as that old miser's life, to -hurt a hair of is head. Don't be afraid, Jane, but put on your bonnet, -my girl, run up to the castle, and tell the old man Gray to come down -and speak to me. I might die, or some accident might happen, so I had -better see him before I set out."</p> - -<p class="normal">With trembling hands--but little reassured by what her mother said, -and, unfortunately, but too certain of her husband's guilt--the poor -girl put on her bonnet, and hastened, as fast as her limbs would carry -her, up to Warmstone Castle. Before she returned again with Adam Gray, -after about half-an-hour's absence, the officer had completed his -search, and had left the house, swearing, with an oath, that it was -very strange he had been able to discover nothing bearing in the least -degree upon the robbery which had been committed. Jane found her -mother putting on the boy's clothes, and, taking him out of the old -lady's hands, she left her to speak with Adam Gray alone. On coming -down again, both the child and herself were completely dressed, as if -to go upon a journey; and the eagerness of her look amounted almost to -wildness, as, in answer to her mother's question of where she was -going, she replied--"You know I must get to Doncaster as fast as I -can, that I may be with him. Think of his being in prison, mother, and -alone!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay, Jane," replied her mother--"stay a bit, my girl--they would -not let you be with him even if you were there; but this good -gentleman, Mr. Gray, says he will take us all over in the chaise, with -which he is going to drive back to Morley Court to-morrow. It will be -a sad thing for me to see all those places again; but never mind, I -will go."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I cannot stay till to-morrow," cried the younger woman. "I would -rather walk, mother--indeed I would. My heart will break if I do not -go to him directly;" and she burst into tears.</p> - -<p class="normal">Adam Gray, in the meanwhile, had stood with his eyes fixed upon the -floor, musing deeply, as if some subject of extraordinary interest -occupied him altogether. It very often happens, however, that the mere -corporeal senses, like servants afraid of disturbing their master when -he is busy, receive and retain impressions, which they do not -communicate to the intellectual soul, till after she has fully -discussed and dismissed some particular subject with which she is -occupied, or till the urgency of external applications compel them to -break in upon her meditations. It was so in the present instance; the -ear of Adam Gray had heard all that had passed, but his mind was so -fully engaged with the conversation which had taken place between him -and Mrs. More, that he had not given any attention to what was -passing, till the tears of the young woman roused him from his -reverie, and then the ear conveyed to his mind all that it had -collected.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is no use," he said, addressing Jane, "of your trying to go on -foot. You do not know what a distance it is, and you will be there -twice as soon by going with me. Besides, if it comes to that, and you -are so very anxious, I could set out to-day, about three o'clock. We -shall get to Greta Bridge by ten, and then there will be the coach -to-morrow, which will land you at Doncaster in the evening. If you -were to set off on foot this minute, it would take you four days, or -more, do what you would."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, the shortest--the shortest!" cried Jane. "But will they not let -me be with him, mother? Did you say they will not let me be with him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, indeed, my dear child," replied her mother, "that will they not; -but he shall soon be with you. Be comforted, Jane--be comforted."</p> - -<p class="normal">The poor girl, however, could receive no comfort; and, to say the -truth, she trusted not to her mother's promises, for she believed them -to be solely intended to soothe and tranquilize her. Her whole -thoughts, however, were bent upon setting off as soon as possible, and -she wandered about without occupation, till at length, about half-past -two, for the good old man was earlier than his hour, a boy ran up the -little glen from the high road, to say that Mr. Gray was waiting, and -to carry down anything that was to go.</p> - -<p class="normal">Never did journey seem so long as the drive from Warmstone to Greta -Bridge, to poor Jane; and to say sooth, the horse, though strong and -well fitted for such a journey, was not the swiftest that was ever put -in harness, nor was M. Gray the most dashing of charioteers. At -length, however, they reached the borders of Yorkshire, and put up at -the little inn at Greta, where Adam Gray's well-known face procured -them instantly a warm reception from the shrewd Yorkshire landlord.</p> - -<p class="normal">The good butler took care that the two women under his charge should -be well treated in all respects; but Jane and her boy retired to rest -almost immediately, leaving old Dame More once more alone with her -ancient acquaintance. They remained together, in earnest conversation, -for two or three hours, and Mr. Gray, in the course of the evening, -called for pen, and ink, and paper, so that it was evident to the -landlord some business of importance was being transacted between his -two guests.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the following morning the tax cart was sent back to Northumberland, -and, proceeding in the coach, which at that day was not altogether so -rapid a conveyance as at present, the whole party were, ere long, set -down at Doncaster, where the old servant of sir Morley Ernstein passed -the night, for the kindly purpose of putting his two companions into -what he called the way of doing for themselves at Doncaster. He was up -early on the following morning, and was enjoying the sunshine for five -minutes before breakfast at the door of the inn, when the landlord -himself sauntered out, with a--"Good morning, Mr. Gray! So sir Morley -is gone to London, I hear; an odd time of the year to go to London, -too!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has some business there," replied Adam Gray, laconically. "Pray -what is doing in Doncaster, Mr. Beilby?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, nothing much to talk of," answered the landlord. "Yesterday there -was a great piece of work, for they brought in the man who robbed Mr. -Carr's house at Yelverly, not long ago. They have been looking after -him for the last fortnight, or more, but he always managed to give -them the slip till the other day, when they caught him in -Northumberland, up somewhere in your parts, I believe; and a -prodigious number of people there were to see him.--A fine-looking -fellow he is, too, and set them all at defiance. He would not say a -word before the magistrates; and, indeed, as Mr. Carr was too ill to -attend, little Jeremy Sharpset, the lawyer, who appeared for the -prisoner, insisted that they should discharge him, or, at the worst, -remand him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And did they remand him?" exclaimed Adam Gray.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! not they," replied Mr. Beilby; "they would not hear any nonsense, -but committed him to York Castle, at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adam Gray heard the tidings in silence, and turned into the inn to -communicate the news he had obtained to those who were more interested -in the matter than himself.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">We must now endeavour to give the picture of a woman's mind -under deep -affliction, as a contrast to that which we have drawn of a man -suffering from similar sorrow. Juliet Carr sat sad and lonely in her -own room at Yelverly, meditating over lost happiness and bitter -disappointment. Her father's health was better--that is to say, he was -stronger, able to rise, and go about in the immediate neighbourhood, -though the surgeon shook his head, warned him that no great exertions -must be made, and gave Juliet herself to understand that Mr. Carr was -still in a very precarious state. It was a great relief to her, -however, to see his health even so far improved, for it removed the -necessity of making that anxious struggle to do her duty towards him, -by tending him in sickness, which she never failed in, notwithstanding -his unwillingness to receive her attention, or be indebted to her -care.</p> - -<p class="normal">She sat, then, lonely in her chamber, thinking over her fate, and it -must be acknowledged that sad indeed were all her feelings, and deep -was the depression that rested on her mind. But very, very different -was her endurance of the sorrow from that of Morley Ernstein. She was -sensible that her happiness was gone for ever, her brightest hopes -disappointed, the treasured affections of her heart, the first deep, -earnest love of her young spirit cast away upon the ocean of Time--one -of all the manifold things which in the course of the world are -wrecked and perish in that engulfing sea. She felt her fate in all its -bitterness, but she writhed not under the pang; she knew that it is -woman's lot to endure, and she prepared her mind for a life of -endurance. She wept often, it is true, but she prayed often, too. She -prayed not only for herself, but for him whose peace was shipwrecked -with her own--she prayed that God might give him happiness, -consolation, relief--that the grief which had befallen him might not -drive his impetuous nature to seek for amusement or occupation in -paths of danger or of wrong--nay more, that he might find others to -cheer and to support him--that his fate might be brighter than her -own--that he might not remember, nor feel, nor love as long as she -must do.</p> - -<p class="normal">For her own part her mind was made up; the day-dream of life was over -to her; she asked nothing, she expected nothing from the future. All -the aspirations of the young heart were at an end, and though she -might expect some pleasures of a certain kind--in the doing good to -others, the wiping away some tears, the relief of sorrows, the -comforting and the consoling of the poor and the distressed--she -dreamt of nothing more. She was well contented, indeed, to bound her -hopes to the being an instrument in the hands of God to benefit her -fellow-creatures; and if imagination did present a vision to her mind -of anything like real joy for herself, if her heart did lift a prayer -to Heaven for anything like individual gratification, it embraced but -one bright object, it implied but one earnest petition that the time -might sooner or later come when she should be of some use to him she -loved--that she might have some opportunity of showing him the -undying, the unchanging affection which existed in her heart. Oh! with -what delight she sometimes dreamed of the possibility of following his -footsteps unseen through the world, of hovering round him like a -protecting spirit, warding off from him dangers and difficulties, -shielding him from malice, enmity, and strife, guarding him against -others--perhaps against himself! Such, for a moment, would sometimes -be the waking vision of Juliet Carr; but then she would endeavour to -shut it out.--It seemed too bright, too happy, for her to believe that -anything so joyful could yet be in store for her.</p> - -<p class="normal">These, then, reader, were the feelings of the woman's heart under the -same affliction which had produced very different sensations in Morley -Ernstein. He, it is true, longed for the happiness of Juliet Carr, -even independent of himself; his voice would ever have been ready to -defend her, his arm to protect; he would have gone to strife, and to -certain death to procure her even a moment's happiness; but with his -endurance of his own grief was mingled a bitterness and a repining -which made him writhe and struggle under it. The character of man, -born for effort and exertion, destined and taught to resist and to -strive, rendered it scarcely possible for him to bow with resignation -like hers to the stroke that separated them; there was anger mingled -with the tears that he shed, and wrath was in his heart as well as -sorrow.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley, however, had the world to go to for relief and for occupation. -Juliet, in this respect, was far more unfortunate than he was, for she -had nothing to take off the first edge of her sorrow; there was no -variety in her existence, there was no one object to turn her thoughts -from herself. Her father--though the sort of habitual respect with -which he was accustomed to treat her, prevented him from breaking -forth even into an angry word, nevertheless regarded her, when they -met, with a stern and an enquiring eye; and the continual presence of -the youth, William Barham, drove her often to seek the refuge of her -own chamber, in order to avoid society which she did not like, and -which every day was becoming more and more unpleasant to her.</p> - -<p class="normal">From motives, and with views which Juliet could in no degree divine, -Mr. Carr used to indulge the weak, idle, selfish youth whom he had -taken into the house, in every sort of whim and fancy. He, who was -usually so parsimonious, refused the young man nothing that he -desired, and an evident taste for drinking soon manifested itself in -his unpromising protégé. Mr. Carr caused him to be supplied with wine, -or spirits, or whatever he might think necessary, taking a note, -indeed, of every farthing of expense, but still with a degree of -liberality which astonished all who witnessed his proceedings. It may -be easily supposed, that the sort of unlimited command which the youth -had over everything in the house, was not only unpleasant to Juliet -personally, but also was painful for her to witness, from the evil -effects it was evidently producing upon the brother of Helen Barham.</p> - -<p class="normal">In one of her letters to Helen, who still remained with Lady Malcolm, -Juliet, after much hesitation, mentioned the facts and her -apprehensions; and about four days afterwards, while her father and -William Barham were both out, she suddenly heard the rolling of -wheels, and the moment after her maid ran in to tell her that Miss -Barham had just arrived from London.</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet went down in haste, and the meeting between Helen Barham -and herself was like that of two sisters. In regard to human -affections--as indeed in regard to almost everything else--time is a -mere relative term; for there are circumstances and situations which -bind heart to heart in a few hours by ties more strong than can be -woven by the intimacy of a lifetime. It is alone upon the -deceitfulness of the world that is grounded the sad necessity of -choosing slowly and thoughtfully the friends of the heart; but there -are cases where the inmost secrets of the bosom are so clearly -displayed that caution may be well done away; and generally it is in -such cases that those circumstances exist which draw us irresistibly -towards another, and teach us at once to love and to esteem.</p> - -<p class="normal">So had it been with Helen Barham and Juliet Carr. In a few days--nay, -in a few hours, they had known each other well, and loved each other -dearly; and if in the character of Helen Barham there were points -which Juliet grieved for, yet they were points which excited -tenderness and pity rather than condemnation, and proceeded from -errors in education, never from defects of the heart. When they had -last met there had existed a difference in their state of mind, which -was the only impediment to the deepest attachment. It was, that Juliet -Carr was then perfectly happy, and happiness, which is at best a -selfish thing, prevented her from feeling altogether as she might have -done that full sympathy for Helen, which none but those who have -themselves known deep grief can experience towards those who grieve. -Let me not be misunderstood, however--Juliet had sympathized with her -fair companion deeply, and had loved her warmly, and the only -abatement was, that Juliet was herself completely happy. Now, however, -happiness had passed away from her heart, and as she held Helen in her -arms for a moment, at their first meeting, she felt that she had -hardly loved her half enough.</p> - -<p class="normal">Luckily for themselves, they were suffered to be alone for several -hours, for they had much to explain to each other which was difficult -to tell--many subjects to speak upon, in regard to which even woman -with woman hesitates. And Juliet had dreamt a dream, so mingled of -sweet and noble purposes, of painful expectations, of devotion, of -resignation, and of tenderness, that it was hard for her even to -approach the subject--hard even to think of it, without the tears -rising in her eyes, and her heart throbbing as if it would beat -through her bosom. She gazed on Helen Barham, while they sat and -talked together; she looked at her bright and sparkling beauty, almost -as if she had been a lover; she read the deep, strong affections of -those bright heart-full eyes, she fathomed in her own mind the well of -intense feelings that existed in that soft bosom, and in her humility -she asked herself--"What am I, that he should love me rather than -her?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet went on with her enquiries, and demanded of herself, "Is it not -possible--is it not even probable, that, knowing we can never be -united, with his attachment to me broken by the cold hand of despair, -his affections may turn to one who so well deserves them, and Helen -Barham, happy in his love, may, in the end, make him happy likewise?" -Not only was it likely, she thought, but scarcely to be doubted. It -was impossible that he could see much of one so beautiful, so -talented, so engaging, without learning to love her, if love for -another could once be extinguished in his heart.</p> - -<p class="normal">A pause had taken place while she thus thought, and Juliet saw her -fair companion's eyes rest upon the green expanse before the house, -while an expression of deep melancholy stole over her countenance. -Juliet read that look, and read it rightly; and though she felt -somewhat timid, in regard to touching upon the subject at all, and -sought not to raise any expectations, especially when she could not be -sure that they might not be disappointed, yet she resolved, with the -generous confidence of a pure and high mind, to let Helen know the -exact position in which she herself stood towards Morley Ernstein. "I -am sure," she said to herself, "that Helen will not rejoice in my -disappointment. But, nevertheless, the knowledge that he whom she -loves is not actually about to be united to another, may make a -difference in her own fate and conduct."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus thinking, she fixed her eyes for a moment upon Helen Barham -again, saying--"Dear Helen, you look somewhat pale and sad."</p> - -<p class="normal">The blood rushed up into Helen Barham's cheek, from the well of -consciousness in her heart. But Juliet went on, anxious to prevent her -making any reply--"I am afraid, dear Helen," she continued, "that you -are not very happy, though there never yet was one who more deserved -happiness, I am sure. I can now sympathize with you, dear Helen, more -deeply than I ever could do before, for I am not happy, either."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen started, and gazed eagerly in her face--"What is it you mean?" -she cried. "You unhappy, Juliet!--you, whose days I thought were to be -all sunshine, blessed and blessing from the beginning of life to the -close!--you, whose fate I believed was destined to show to man that it -is possible to be happy, even on this earth!--you, who I fancied were -to be for ever a being of brightness, and goodness, and joy!--you to -be unhappy! Then, indeed, is this world a place of trial to every one; -and, as old Comines says--'Right loyally has God kept his word with -man, that in sorrow shall every one eat of the fruit of the ground, -all the days of his life!' Oh, Juliet! this is very sad to me, for it -takes away that belief in the mere existence of such a thing as -happiness, which was all that was left to make me remember my own."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why should I be exempt, Helen?" replied Juliet. "I am not vain enough -to think I deserved that which I believed was in store for me; and -though deep and bitter has been the disappointment of all my hopes, -yet I trust to be enabled, by God's mercy, to bear that disappointment -calmly."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen Barham gazed earnestly and sadly in her face, making no reply, -for some moments; but she then said--"Speak, Juliet, speak; tell me -more, now you have told so much; but do not, do not say he was -unworthy, for that I can never believe, even from your lips."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Juliet, eagerly, with her whole soul coming -into her beautiful eyes. "Unworthy! oh, no!--he is worthy of all the -deepest, the tenderest, the most ardent, the most enduring love that -even a woman's heart can bestow. But, alas, Helen, it is all in vain! -He and I can never be united. Say not a word, dear Helen; for on this -subject I must be very, very brief. I dare not speak--I cannot speak -much, lest these tears should drown me. We can never be united, Helen; -there is a barrier between us that cannot be removed; and my only -hope, my only wish, is, to see him happy with some one who may deserve -to share his fate."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen Barham cast her arms round Juliet's neck, and, for a moment or -two, gave way to an overwhelming flood of tears. She made no comment, -she asked no further question; and all she said, even in the end, was -"Oh, Juliet Carr--dear Juliet Carr!--would to God, that I might spend -my life with you! I know not, but I think that I might comfort you, as -you have often comforted me; and that peace, Juliet--calm peace, which -is all that either of us can hope for now, might sooner come to our -dwelling if we were together. To be with you, even for a brief space, -is a great happiness to me; and when your father sent for me--oh, how -gladly did I come, although I had long tried to fancy that I was -better away!"</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a pause for several minutes, but at length Juliet -asked--"Did my father, then, send for you, Helen?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes," replied Helen Barham. "Did you not know it, Juliet? He sent a -messenger express to London for me, begging me to come down -immediately, on business of importance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I never heard of it," said Juliet. "I thought you had come on your -brother's account. But there are my father and Mr. Barham in the -avenue. I will speak to you more about your brother, Helen, when I -have an opportunity. There are many things of which I wish to warn -you."</p> - -<p class="normal">To the heart that deals with facts as they exist, and not according to -the conventional mode of viewing them--to the heart that tries things -by its own feelings, and not by the appreciations of others to the -heart, in short that feels and acts for itself, the world, and the -world's customs, the idle apathy, the selfish indifference, the narrow -calculations, the dark, and often stupid caution of that ordinary -crowd which forms what is called the mass of society, must ever be -considered as a host of natural enemies. Thus we close our bosoms -against them; and when the gates have been unbarred for a moment, and -the feelings have been permitted to issue forth, it is wonderful how -soon, if any of the adversaries' troops approach, in the persons of -the worldly and the indifferent, the soldiers of the heart retreat -within the walls of the fortress, the drawbridge is pulled up, the -doors and sally-ports closed, and everything is put in a state of -stern defence.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was the case with Helen Barham and Juliet Carr. The traces of -tears were rapidly wiped off, the every-day look put on as a veil, and -the very thoughts with which they had been so busy were chased away, -lest they might still affect the countenance, as soon as Mr. Carr and -William Barham approached the house.</p> - -<p class="normal">The old lawyer himself had become extremely thin and haggard since -Helen had seen him, and though he had recovered sufficient strength to -drive to Doncaster on that very morning, he was evidently sadly broken -and enfeebled. He met Miss Barham, however, with a good deal of that -fawning courtesy which he always displayed towards those whom he -sought to flatter and to win, and which was strangely, but not -unnaturally, contrasted with the acerbity and sarcastic bitterness -that he assumed towards those he disliked or despised.</p> - -<p class="normal">The conduct of William Barham, on meeting with his sister, was such as -the reader may very well conceive it would be. There was a shy -coldness about it, a sort of schoolboy-awkwardness, which was mixed -with an affectation of ease; and, through all, an enquiring underlook -of apprehension was apparent, as if he feared that Helen might have -been betraying his secrets to Miss Carr. In short, every word and -gesture rendered their meeting painful, even to Helen herself. Indeed, -for many months, each conversation between the brother and sister had -added but one source of grief or another to the number which the more -amiable of the two had to bear; but now she remarked not alone the -unpleasant and ungentlemanlike demeanour of her brother, but that in -personal appearance a considerable and painful change had taken place. -He looked thin and worn, and his face, which always bore a look of -pale dissipation, was now marked by several purple blotches, in -various places, and a bright red spot in the centre of each cheek. He -had a peculiar cough, too, which Helen did not like; for she was old -enough to remember something very like it, before her mother's death; -and the course which Juliet told her that her brother was pursuing was -certainly not one to improve his health and restore his vigour. After -Mr. Carr and the young man had been about ten minutes in the room, the -former left it, with a chuckling laugh, saying to Helen, that he had a -little note for her in his desk. He returned almost instantly, and put -into her hand a long slip of writing, upon which she gazed with -enquiring eyes, finding it very nearly, if not totally unintelligible. -"It is a sort of summons, my dear young lady," said the old man, "to -appear, and give evidence upon the trial of those villains who broke -into the house. It is all in proper form."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen Barham turned very pale, saying--"I thought I should have been -spared this;" and sitting down with the document in her hand, she -continued gazing upon it in silence, with a thoughtful and anxious -expression of countenance, as if placed in a situation of sudden and -unexpected difficulty.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pray, Mr. Carr," she asked, at length, "was it on this account that -you sent for me from town?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Carr saw that he had pained her, and he was evidently not a little -anxious to give her no offence.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," he replied, eagerly--"not entirely, my dear Miss Barham--not -entirely; there are various other important things to be done. I must -have your authority, as well as your brother's, to act upon. He is not -quite of age yet, you know; and I have to consult with you upon a -great many matters, though I have put your affairs into the hands of a -gentleman, who agrees to take it upon the 'no cure, no pay' system. He -sees his way as clearly as I do, and signs an agreement to stand all -the expenses if he does not recover your property. Nevertheless, there -is much to be talked about; and as to this affair," he continued, -seeing that the first effect upon Helen's mind was wearing away--"you -know, my dear Miss Barham, I acted for the best in giving you the -subpœna here, where I was at your elbow to afford you advice and -assistance. If I had not done so, they would have sent it to you in -London, and what would have come of it then? Nobody can escape such a -thing, you know, my dear Miss Barham; it is one of the bounden duties -of Englishmen to give evidence for the purpose of promoting the ends -of justice."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen sat silent for a moment, and then asked--"What are the -consequences, Mr. Carr, of a person refusing to give evidence?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, very terrible, indeed!" exclaimed Mr. Carr; "I can scarcely tell -you what might, or what might not be done; but, certainly, in the very -first instance, anybody doing so would be committed for contempt of -court, and then they might stay their whole life in prison."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen's cheek turned very pale, and Mr. Carr continued--"When anything -happens to make witnesses wish not to answer, they generally contrive -to evade the question, to say they are not sure of this thing or -that--to equivocate a little, in short."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But suppose they do not choose to equivocate?" said Helen.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then they tell the truth," said Mr. Carr, sharply.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen was silent and thoughtful, but there was a look of resolution in -her face, which made Mr. Carr somewhat apprehensive that she would not -act exactly in the way that he wished; and he was preparing all his -eloquence to show her the dangers and inconveniences of the plan he -suspected she was about to pursue, when one of the maids came into the -room quickly, saying, with an impatient air--"There is an old woman, -sir, at the door, wants to speak to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can't speak with her now, Sally," replied Mr. Carr; "she must come -again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But she says she must speak with you directly, sir," rejoined the -maid; "indeed, she is very saucy about it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I dare say it is that old woman, Brown," said Mr. Carr, "who says -always there was five shillings owing to her son who died. Tell her it -is no such thing, and that she had better go away, or I will send for -a constable."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It isn't Goody Brown, at all," answered the woman, in a tone of very -little reverence for her master--"she told me something about her -name, but I forget what it was."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Go, and ask it--go, and ask it, then!" said Mr. Carr; and he was -about to recommence his argument with Helen during the girl's absence; -but she was not away more than a minute, and returned with a vastly -indignant air, saying--"The saucy old thing says she must and will see -you directly--that her name is Jane More, widow of Sergeant More; and -she will take no refusal."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Carr turned as pale as death, pressed his hand upon his heart, and -sunk into a chair.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are not well," cried Juliet, starting up. "Let me go and speak to -her, sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no, no!" cried N. Carr, eagerly--"on no account. Take her into my -little room, Sally. Some one give me a spoonful of brandy. Tell her I -am not well, or I would have spoken to her at once, but I will come -directly."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">As soon as Mr. Carr had left the room, Helen Barham turned -towards the -place where her brother had been standing the moment before--not, -indeed, to ask his advice as to her future proceedings, for, alas, she -did not respect that brother sufficiently to trust in any of his -counsels!--but with the sort of enquiring look which nature has taught -us to direct towards any one nearly allied to us, in circumstances of -difficulty or danger. To her surprise, however, William Barham was no -longer there; and Juliet informed her that her brother had quitted the -room as soon as Mr. Carr began to speak of the robbery. "Indeed," she -added, with a smile, and little thinking her words would give pain, "I -perceive that he always does so."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen Barham looked down, for the knowledge which she possessed of her -brother's former course of life produced some apprehension lest -William himself might be by some means implicated in the terrible -transaction which was about to undergo the investigation of the law. -When she recollected the conduct and the words of Harry Martin, too, -the probability seemed so great, that she actually trembled at the -thought of what might be the consequence; and the difficulties of her -own situation became aggravated a thousand fold by fears for her -brother.</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet remarked her agitation, perhaps with some surprise, but she -made no observation, and Helen, as soon as she had recovered herself, -left the room, saying, that she wished to speak with William for a few -moments. She found him in the room to which she was directed by one of -the servants of the house, busily engaged in packing up a portmanteau. -He was looking extremely pale, and in answer to Helen's enquiries, -said that he intended to go back to London the next day. He made some -excuse for this sudden determination, which Helen did not clearly -understand, alleging that it was necessary he should see "the lawyer;" -but his sister could draw no farther information from him, and, -indeed, he appeared anxious to free himself from her presence. She -remained for some time, however, trying to soothe him, and -endeavouring to call up some better feelings in his heart; but she -found that her efforts were spent in vain, and with sorrow of various -kinds in her bosom, she returned to the room where she had left -Juliet.</p> - -<p class="normal">As she laid her hand upon the lock of the drawing-room door, she heard -her friend's voice calling loudly from a little room at the end of the -corridor,--"Helen! Helen!" cried Juliet; "pray send some of the maids. -Come to me, dear Helen--my father has fainted!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen ran into the room in which Mr. Carr usually transacted his -business, and found him seated in a chair, as pale as death, with his -daughter supporting his head.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Something has happened," said Juliet, in a low voice--"something has -happened between him and that woman who was here just now; for the -moment that she was gone, he called for me eagerly, but before I could -reach him he was in the state that you see."</p> - -<p class="normal">Measures were immediately taken for restoring Mr. Carr, and in about -half-an-hour they proved successful. He opened his eyes faintly and -looked around him, and then endeavoured to rise from his chair, but -was unable to do so. He was very angry, however, when he found that a -medical man had been sent for, vowed it was ruin and destruction, and -reproached Juliet bitterly for bringing him, as he termed it, to -poverty and disgrace.</p> - -<p class="normal">Poor Juliet wept, not so much at the sting of her father's reproaches, -as because she thought his senses were bewildered; for although Mr. -Carr throughout life had displayed his avarice in acts, he had been -very careful to avoid suffering the miser to appear in his words. He -often, on the contrary, affected a tone of liberality; talked much -about "petty savings," and people being "penny wise and pound -foolish;" with all those old proverbs and saws of liberality, which -are more frequently in the mouths of the greedy and the avaricious -than of the really generous and open-handed.</p> - -<p class="normal">Gradually, as he recovered himself, he became more guarded again, said -that as the doctor had been sent for he could not help it, but at the -same time put Juliet away from him with a cold air, and begged that -she would not act in such a way another time without his authority. He -asked, moreover, with a look of doubt and suspicion, if she had seen -that old woman, and seemed relieved when he was informed that such had -not been the case.</p> - -<p class="normal">The surgeon, when he arrived, would fain have sent Mr. Carr to bed, -declared that he was much more ill than he believed himself to be, and -protested that he would not answer for the consequences if his -directions were not obeyed. Mr. Carr resisted, however, saying, that -there could be no use of his going to bed then, as he must set off for -York at six o'clock on the following morning, to be present at the -assizes.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was in vain that Juliet remonstrated, and besought him to refrain -from an act which the surgeon assured him might cost his life,--it was -in vain that she represented how little it mattered whether the men -who robbed his house were convicted or not, if his own death was to be -the result. He grew angry with her arguments, telling her that she -knew not what she was talking about, and could not enter into his -views, or understand his motives; and so far, at least, he seemed to -be in the right, that the very exertion appeared to do him good, for -during the evening he went about making his preparations with much -greater strength than either Juliet or Helen believed him to possess.</p> - -<p class="normal">He was pale when he rose on the following morning, and his hand shook -a good deal, as if he had had a slight stroke of the palsy; but his -determination of proceeding to York was so evident, that Juliet dared -offer no farther opposition, and only petitioned to be allowed to -accompany him. He did not comply with her request, however, saying, -somewhat impatiently, that there was no need of increasing the charges -at an inn. His daughter judged, and judged rightly, that the -apprehension of expense was not the sole cause of her father's -unwillingness to take her with him, and she did not venture to propose -that arrangement which had but too often taken place between him and -herself--namely, that she should pay her share from her own private -income.</p> - -<p class="normal">As soon as the chaise appeared, Mr. Carr and Helen Barham got into it, -and the door was already shut when William Barham, who had been -wandering about the house during the whole morning, as if not knowing -what to do with his vacant time, ran up to the side of the vehicle, -and spoke a few words to Mr. Carr. The old man seemed surprised, but -after a reply and a rejoinder, exclaimed--"Very well--very well, -then--only make haste!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The youth's portmanteau was immediately sent for, and strapped upon -the carriage; he himself took his place inside, and the whole party -were borne away in a very few minutes. To Juliet, who watched them -from the window, the words which William Barham had spoken where -inaudible; and she was not a little surprised to see the young man -depart, even for a short time, without the ordinary courtesy of -bidding her adieu; for, to say the truth, there had been a growing -familiarity in his manner, which, though difficult to check, had been -not a little disagreeable to her. On the present occasion, she -concluded that he was going to witness the trial at York, and was glad -of the relief; but she would have been still more surprised at his -conduct, though even better satisfied with the result, if she had -known that he only proposed to accompany M. Carr as far as the high -road, and there to get a place in the first coach for London.</p> - -<p class="normal">While in the carriage with Mr. Carr and Helen, William Barham -maintained that sort of dull reserve which his sister's presence -seemed now to produce invariably, and only entered into conversation -for the purpose, of hinting to the old lawyer that he wanted a supply -of money. With scarcely a moment's hesitation given to his habitual -reluctance to part with money on any consideration, Mr. Carr produced -his pocket-book, and handed over at once two ten-pound notes to his -young companion, only stipulating that, when they arrived at the inn, -he should give a note of hand for the sum which he had received.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This man has been called a miser and a usurer," thought Helen, "and -yet he deals thus liberally and kindly. So do people gain the -reputation of vices that they do not possess."</p> - -<p class="normal">But poor Helen Barham knew not, that for every shilling which Mr. Carr -lent to William, he calculated that he would gain fifty, if not a -hundred per cent. On their arrival at the inn, which occupied the -angle where the by-road from Yelverly joined the high road from York -to London, Mr. Carr and William Barham got out of the carriage; and -the old lawyer carefully took a memorandum from the young man of the -sum which had been given him. William then took leave of his sister, -merely shaking hands as if she had been some common acquaintance, and -the chaise rolled on towards York, while Helen's brother remained -waiting the arrival of the coach. When it came, he got into the -inside, seeing that is was already tenanted by two well-dressed young -women, and an elderly gentleman; and in a few minutes the youth was in -full conversation, casting away entirely all that reserve which he had -displayed in the presence of his sister, and giving himself all sorts -of airs, as if he were the scion of some noble house, frequenting the -first society in the land, and possessing wealth at will.</p> - -<p class="normal">Fast drove the coach along the road, and faster went the young man's -tongue, the innocent girls within the vehicle giving full credit to -every word he said, though not particularly liking his manners and -appearance, and their elder companion, with more experience and -knowledge of the world, setting him down, not exactly for what he -really was, but for some saucy shopboy, suddenly possessed of a few -pounds, and raised in his own impudent imagination to the highest -pitch of fortune.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the end of about two hours, the coach drove up to an inn to change -horses, and at the same moment a dark-coloured, but highly-finished -barouche, rolled rapidly past on the side next to William Barham. The -old gentleman who occupied the other corner, could only perceive that -the carriage contained a man of a distinguished aspect, with fine -features and a very dark complexion; but William Barham recognised -with terror the well-known countenance of Lieberg, and saw that the -keen dark eye rested upon him while the finger was raised and the brow -contracted. He turned deadly pale, and became as silent as the grave.</p> - -<p class="normal">The old gentleman remarked all this, and whispered to one of -his daughters, "I suppose this vulgar young coxcomb is some -valet-de-chambre, and if so, depend upon it that was his master who -passed just now."</p> - -<p class="normal">William Barham's sharp ears caught the meaning of the whisper, and his -heart burned within him, but he did not dare to reply. His only -resource was to betake himself to the outside of the coach at the next -stage, and to drown the mingled feelings of apprehension and rage in -five or six glasses of strong brandy and water, taken wherever the -vehicle stopped long enough to give time for such potations.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XL.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">It was in the interior of the well-known prison of York, just -after -nightfall, that the prisoner Harry Martin sat by himself, having been -permitted a long interview with his wife in the course of the day, and -having apparently derived great comfort and consolation from her -presence--much greater, indeed, than that which he had derived from a -conversation with his lawyer, who had taken a view of his case not the -most encouraging. During the first day or two of his imprisonment he -had, to say the truth, felt a degree of despairing anxiety which he -had never before known in life; not, indeed, that he had displayed any -external sign of apprehension, unless it were a stern gravity of -language rather different from his usual gay and reckless tone. But -upon the whole he had been calm, talking with any one who saw him upon -indifferent subjects, and seemingly not at all engrossed with his own -situation, but only feeling the general impression of a serious -charge. His demeanour altogether had much pleased not only the -governor of the prison, but also the turnkeys; and the former declared -that he had seen many a guilty man in his day, but he had never seen -any who had less the manner of one than Mr. Martin, nor could he -conceive that what all the London officers said of him was true; while -the turnkeys, on their part, vowed that, whatever he had done, Mr. -Martin was "quite a gentleman."</p> - -<p class="normal">Although even in those days the prison licentiousness, commemorated in -the Beggar's Opera and in the works of our older novelists, had been -very nearly done away, yet a degree of licence existed in our gaols -unknown to our stricter rule. The discipline of a prison was a very -different thing then from that which it is now, and it rarely happened -that a harsh magistrate interdicted a prisoner before trial from any -reasonable communication with his friends and acquaintances. All that -was required from the governor of a gaol was the secure custody of the -prisoner's person, and if that was properly cared for, few questions -of any kind were asked.</p> - -<p class="normal">There were hours fixed, however, beyond which any visits to the prison -were not usually permitted, and it was with some surprise, therefore, -that Harry Martin saw the door of his cell open a few hours after the -ordinary time of admission.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A gentleman wants to speak with you, Mr. Martin," said one of the -turnkeys, and the prisoner, raising his eyes, beheld a tall and -powerful man, wrapped in a travelling cloak, enter the room while the -gaoler held the door for him to pass in.</p> - -<p class="normal">Harry Martin was not one to forget readily a face he had once seen, -but it took the reflection of a moment or two to connect that of his -visitor with the events of the past; and ere his recollection served -him, the door was closed, and he stood face to face with the personage -whom we have called Count Lieberg. The moment that he became aware of -who it was, the brow of the prisoner contracted, and he demanded -sternly--"What do you want with me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg's dark, keen eye rested upon him heavily, with that sort of -oppressive light which seemed at once to see into and weigh down the -heart of those he gazed at, and he remained for a moment or two -without making any reply, as if to let the man before him feel the -full force of that basilisk glance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"When last we met," he said, at length, "you took away some papers--"</p> - -<p class="normal">Harry Martin had by this time recollected himself, and he replied. -with a loud laugh--"When last we met? Did we ever meet at all? That is -the question, my fine fellow. You seem to me as impudent as a quack -doctor, and I dare say are as great a liar as a horse-chanter."</p> - -<p class="normal">"When last we met," repeated Lieberg, in an unaltered tone, "you took -a pocket-book of mine, containing some papers of value to me and of no -value to you. What has become of them?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"What has become of them!" cried Harry Martin. "If I took any papers -of yours, depend upon it that they are by this time what you and I -soon will be."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And what is that?" demanded Lieberg.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Dust and ashes--dust and ashes!" replied Harry Martin.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You make a mistake," said Lieberg, calmly, "I have no intention of -being anything of the kind. But listen to me for a moment, my good -friend, and I will give you sufficient motives for making you change -your mind in this business. Those papers are of great consequence to -me; if they can't be found, the proofs of the facts to which they -referred are the next important things to obtain. If you can furnish -me with either the one or the other, you will benefit me and yourself -too. Hear me!--you will save your own neck from the gallows--You will -save your own life, I say."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I would not, to save fifty lives," answered Harry Martin. "Come, -don't talk to me any more about it, for I don't want to hear such -stuff. You have no power to give life or to take it. You, who, if laws -were equal, and punishments proportioned to crime, would find a far -higher gallows than any of us poor fellows--you, who are a robber of -more than money--a murderer of more than life--who gave you power to -offer me safety, or anything like it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The chance that placed me in the house which you broke into," replied -Lieberg, "and the wit that made me lie quiet when I found there was no -use in resisting. Upon my words hangs your life, and I pledge my -honour to save it, if you but restore me those papers."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your honour!" exclaimed Harry Martin. "What's your honour worth? I -have heard some tricks of your honour, that make it of as little -value, to those who know what is underneath the surface, as a coiner's -shilling."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are in the wrong," said Lieberg, calmly, keeping still fixed upon -him that peculiar look which Harry Martin could not prevent himself -from feeling, notwithstanding all his daring hardihood--"you are quite -in the wrong, my good friend, and are risking your neck, or rather, I -should say, absolutely condemning yourself to death for the sake of a -youth who has betrayed you, and who was the first to bring upon you -the eye of the law."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Has he betrayed me?" demanded Harry Martin, with his eye flashing. -"Has he betrayed me? If I thought that--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can prove it," replied Lieberg. "You have mistaken your friends for -your enemies, my good man. Listen to me for a very brief space of -time, and you shall soon see that you have not only done me injustice, -but yourself too. All the information that you possess, with regard to -me and to my proceedings, has been derived from a youth whom you -yourself know to be one of the most egregious liars in Europe, who has -misrepresented my conduct to every one, even while I was acting for -his own good. I should have supposed that you were too wise to trust -to one word that he says, even from what you knew of him before; but -surely you will not be foolish enough to give the slightest credit to -the falsehoods which he has spoken of me, when you find that he is -rascal enough to betray you without the least hesitation. Of the -latter fact you may be quite sure, although he may very likely have -bargained not to be brought forward at your trial. Take any means that -you like to satisfy yourself, and you will find that almost -immediately after the robbery had been committed, he went to the house -of Mr. Carr, and has remained there ever since. You will find, also, -that his sister has been brought down to give evidence against you; -and every enquiry that you make will prove to you, more and more -strongly, that it was he who pointed you out to the police as the man, -even when suspicion had very naturally fallen upon two other persons."</p> - -<p class="normal">Harry Martin walked up and down the narrow space of the cell, in a -state of terrible agitation. "So, so!" he said, "this is the game! He -shall smart for it!--I wish I had my hand upon his shoulder, that's -all; but I will have my day, yet. Never mind--revenge will come, and -it is sweet!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is, indeed!" said Lieberg, with a tone of such earnestness, that -no one could doubt he felt the burning passion, the hell-thirst of -which he spoke, with strong intensity, notwithstanding the calm and -indifferent demeanour which he so generally affected. "It is, indeed," -he said, "and no man who knows how sweet it is, lets slip the -opportunity when presented to him. The way before you, my good friend, -is open, and easy; give me those papers; or, if you really have them -not, furnish me with the proofs, which I know you possess, against the -boy, William Barham, and you at once save your own life, and gain your -revenge against him; for I tell you fairly, it is at him I strike."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pooh! nonsense!--don't talk to me," cried Harry Martin; "it's his -sister you want. You care devilish little about him. Do you think to -come humbugging me in that manner?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are mistaken," said Lieberg, sternly; "I may seek revenge upon -them both, and so may you, too, for she is as much your enemy as he -is, and has come down for the express purpose of giving evidence -against you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not she!" cried Harry Martin; "that's a lie--I'll never believe it!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I tell you, she arrived in York last night, with Mr. Carr," replied -Lieberg; "and, as you know, the trial comes on the day after -tomorrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">"She'll give no evidence against me, I'm sure," said Harry Martin, -gazing down upon the floor, but speaking in a less assured tone than -he had used before. "I don't think she would, if her life were at -stake."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If you are quite sure of that," answered Lieberg, in a meaning -tone--"if you are quite sure that the fear of being committed, and of -suffering a tedious imprisonment will not induce her to give some -intimation of the facts, you can trust her, and make yourself easy -upon her score. It were as well, however, to recollect all the -arguments that may be used to induce a girl like that to speak what -she knows, however strongly she may have promised you not to do so. In -the first place, they will shew her, that, both morally and -religiously, promises extorted under threats and the fear of death are -always held to be no promises at all, and quite in vain. They will get -lawyers, and priests, and friends, to tell her all this; and then they -will set before her eyes her duty to her country, and shew that -everybody is bound, by the strongest of moral obligations, to aid in -bringing an offender to justice. All the arguments, in short, which a -poor gentleman, whom you call the devil, has supplied to make people -betray each other under the idea of being very virtuous, will be used -towards her, and with effect; and then, to back all these persuasions, -will be held out the terror of the law, which is armed with power to -punish those who do not do their duty to society. Do you think any -girl will hold out against all this--against the arguments of lawyers, -and friends, and divines--and most likely, against her own convictions -also; and will quietly walk into a prison for an uncertain space of -time, solely to save a man from the gallows whom she never saw but -once in her life? If you do, my good friend, trust her--trust her by -all means; you are the best judge of the value of your own neck, -though probably there are some other people besides yourself, who may -grieve for you, and who may be left destitute if you are hanged."</p> - -<p class="normal">Harry Martin seemed shaken. He sat down at the table, he leaned his -head upon his hands, and the workings of his countenance told how -strong was the emotion within him. Lieberg watched him, with eyes -terribly skilled in reading the passions and weaknesses of the human -heart; and after he had paused for a moment, to let what he had said -have full effect, he went on--"So much for the girl!--and you must -recollect, that if she refuses to swear that you are the man, and -assigns for the reason that her life had been spared, even that will -tell against you, in some degree. Then comes her brother, and says all -that he knows of you; then come I myself, and swear to you positively. -Now, if you do what I want, you sweep away the whole of this mass of -evidence at once, and, in fact, may be said to set yourself free."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, how so?" cried Harry Martin. "How would that prevent her giving -her evidence?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you think she would give her evidence against you, if by so doing -she condemned her own brother to death?" demanded Lieberg, in a low, -but emphatic tone; "and I promise you, she shall have that before her -eyes, at all events."</p> - -<p class="normal">Harry Martin gazed at him from under his bent brows, and for a moment -or two a variety of different expressions passed over the prisoner's -countenance, from which the dark, keen eye of Lieberg could extract no -information in regard to what was passing in his bosom. All that his -tempter could divine was, that he was shaken, that his resolution -wavered, though there was a certain look of scorn mingled with all the -shades that flitted across Martin's face, which was not very pleasant -to his proud companion. He failed not, however, to ply him with every -argument, to tempt him by every inducement, and Martin sat and -listened, sometimes gazing full upon Lieberg, sometimes bending his -eyes down upon the table, sometimes frowning heavily, and sometimes -indulging in a flickering smile, which crossed his countenance like -the lights that we occasionally see carried across the open windows of -a house, the tenant of which we know not, as we travel past it in a -dark night.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well now, sir," he said, at length, looking up with a softened look, -in Lieberg's face--"Well now, sir, suppose I were to do as you wish, -what surety should I have that you will stand by me, in the time of -need?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg bent down his head, speaking across the table, and replied, "I -will acknowledge this night in presence of the turnkey, that in seeing -you, and hearing your voice, I have become convinced you are not one -of the men who broke into Mr. Carr's house, at Yelverly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That might do," said Harry Martin, in a thoughtful tone--"that would -go a great way; but don't you think it would be a lie?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"A lie!" exclaimed Lieberg, with his lip curling--"Are you fool enough -to suppose, that a man of the world cares two straws about the mere -empty shade of truth, when a great and important object is to be -obtained? Where is the minister, the statesman, the patriot, who ever -dreams of the abstract truth or falsehood of a particular proposition? -The greatest reformer that ever lived, who harangues multitudes upon -corruption, and all the evils that afflict a state or a religion, will -no more scruple to falsify the truth in regard to an opponent, or to -tell a bare falsehood to gain an end, than a schoolboy will to rob an -orchard. Take them all, from Luther down to the lowest of your -purity-mongers in this happy island, and you will find that there is -not one of them who considers truth and falsehood, except in reference -to the end they have in view. Away with such nonsense between us--it -is only fit for a school-mistress's homily to girls of twelve years -old. I will do what I say, and that is sufficient; and ere your trial -comes on, I will so contrive to tutor Helen Barham that she shall work -your acquittal, without committing herself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That will do--that will do!" said Harry Martin, meditating. "But -then, sir, I thought you intended to have your revenge upon this young -woman. I should not be sorry to have mine upon that scoundrel, her -brother. Now let me see; though we jump together in that. I should not -like the poor girl ill treated at all--I don't suppose you would ever -go to strike a woman, or to punish her in that sort of way, at all?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg smiled contemptuously, and replied--"You cannot understand, my -good friend, the nature of the revenge I seek; but be satisfied! It is -nothing of the kind you imagine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But I should like to know what it is, sir," said Harry Martin--"I -should much like to know what it is before I consent.--Anything in -reason, but no violence!"</p> - -<p class="normal">His tone was very much altered, and Lieberg marked with no light -satisfaction that everything promised well for his purposes.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well," he said, at length, "my revenge should be this: to force her -to be mine, to bind her to myself by ties she loathes and abhors--to -bow her pride to the dust, by none of the ill-treatment that you dream -of, but by caresses that she hates--ay, and daily to know that her -situation, as my paramour, is a pang and an anguish to her, while she -has no means of freeing herself from the bond!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well!" cried Harry Martin, starting up, with such fury that he -overset the table, "you are a damneder scoundrel than I thought man -could be! Get out, or I will dash you to atoms!" And at the same -moment he seized Lieberg by the shoulder, as if to cast him headlong -forth from the door.</p> - -<p class="normal">To his surprise, however, he found that, notwithstanding all his own -great strength, he could not move him in the least, and that the dark -man before him stood rooted like a rock to the floor.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Beware!" said Lieberg, lifting up his finger with a scornful smile, -as the prisoner drew back in some astonishment--"beware!" and at the -same moment one of the turnkeys opened the door to enquire what was -the matter.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg went out without making any reply, and the prisoner was once -more left alone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay," said Martin when he was by himself; "now if they have a cell in -the place fit to receive a man that has murdered his own father, they -should put that fellow into it. How the scoundrel was taken in, to -tell all his rascality!--I don't believe a word of it--never peach. I -know a little bit about women, too, and I'll bet my life she doesn't -say a word--only those rascally fellows may get it out of her; those -lawyers. I have seen them puzzle a cleverer head than hers with their -questions. However, we will see: a man can but die once, and I'd -rather do that while I'm about it, than give the poor girl up into the -hands of such an infernal villain as that, even if I had the papers to -give him, which, thank God, I have not!--for no man can tell what he -will do when he is tempted.--I suppose it will go hard with me after -all!" And with this not very pleasant reflection, Martin cast himself -into a chair, and appeared to give himself up to calculate the chances -for and against himself, with a heavy brow and a sad and anxious eye.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Man, in his collective quality, is undoubtedly a gin-drinker, -a lover -of ardent spirits, a seeker of all that stimulates the palate, both -mental and corporeal. The wholesome food of every-day life we soon -learn to loathe, and even the excitement of the imagination by the -mimic scene or tale of fictitious distress, is willingly cast away for -the more potent taste of real sorrow and actual crime. How we flock to -see the trial of any notorious criminal!--how eagerly we watch the -workings of apprehension, and anguish on his countenance!--how -critically we examine the gradations of emotion, and fear, and awe, -and despair, as they move the stubborn features, or make the strong -frame writhe! How we gloat upon the deadly anguish of a fellow-human -heart through all the terrible scenes in the administration of -justice, from the first examination of the captured criminal, to the -last dread moment upon the fatal drop!</p> - -<p class="normal">Is it then, indeed, that man loves to witness misery, that he enjoys -the spectacle of agony in a creature like himself? No; no more than he -enjoys pain in his own person when he drinks those burning things from -which his infant lips would have drawn back, or eats those flaming -condiments which set the palate in a blaze. Stimulus--it is all for -stimulus! Stimulus that makes up one half of all the enjoyments of the -passions, the great ingredient in strife and exertion, the incentive -in the course of glory, the companion of ambition!</p> - -<p class="normal">The criminal court at York was filled to the doors. The reporters for -the London newspapers were all present, come down to the mart of -excitement for the purpose of hawking it in retail over the whole -country. Manifold were the lawyers present to hear what they justly -expected would prove a curious case, and the rest of the place was -occupied by a various multitude, not only from the city itself and the -neighbouring county, but from various parts of England, and even from -the capital. There was expectation in every countenance, and each -little movement that took place in the court created not only a slight -rustling murmur, and a motion of every head forward to see what was -taking place, but also produced the palpitation of many a heart from -mere eagerness and anxiety for the result. A great part of the crowd -consisted, as is usually the case, of women, and a more than ordinary -interest had been excited amongst the fairer and tenderer portion of -the community, by the rumours which had been circulated regarding the -prisoner Martin. He had become, as it were, the hero of the day; and -his long evasion of the officers' pursuit, his sojourn on the moors, -and his capture in attempting to escape from a distant cottage, had -all been magnified, and made the theme of wonder and comment, so that -more than one penny pamphlet, containing an account of "the adventures -of Harry Martin," had been produced from the brains of several -marvel-mongers in York. Then, again, there was the tale of his -beautiful young wife and her mother having followed him to the place -of his confinement; and a report was current that the old woman had -been heard to say, on several occasions, that Harry was not guilty, -and that it would prove so; which created a very general belief in his -innocence amongst the many whose ignorance of all the mass of crime -that exists in this world renders them ever ready to believe that -those who boldly assume virtue, are virtuous.</p> - -<p class="normal">The first cause that came on was one of no possible amusement to any -but the parties concerned; one of those cases of horse-stealing or -sheep-stealing, which sadly try the patience of an expecting auditory, -when something more interesting, if not more important, is to follow -immediately after. The counsel, however, on both sides, were brief, -the jury themselves were impatient, and that trial was soon over; for -it is no less true than strange, that even in courts of justice the -accidental circumstances connected with any particular case make an -immense difference in the portion of attention paid to the -investigation thereof, though the crime and the punishment remain the -same.</p> - -<p class="normal">The judges of the land, indeed, generally hold, as far as is -necessary, that calm and dignified impartiality which preserves the -same estimation of all things submitted to their judgment, without any -reference to aught but that which is brought before them. Such is not -the case, however, either with juries or with the gentlemen of the -bar, and any vulgar crime will be investigated, judged, and punished, -with a rapidity truly surprising, when the same act, dignified by the -situation of the parties, or brought into notice by something new and -striking in the mode of its perpetration, will occupy a court for -whole days, and call forth the most profound affections in the breasts -of jurors, counsellors, and auditory.</p> - -<p class="normal">The barrister who would conduct a trial for horse-stealing, with a -light and flippant speech of five minutes, although by the sanguinary -laws of old, the life of the prisoner was in as great danger as if he -had committed murder, would become impressed by the deepest sense of -his situation, and speak by the hour together, if some great man were -slain by the hand of an inferior; and the slightest touch of romance -will hold a court for hours over a trial for murder, which would hang -a dozen men for simple forgery in an hour and a half; and yet the -responsibility is the same--the life of a fellow-being is in both -cases at stake.<a name="div4Ref_01" href="#div4_01"><sup>[1]</sup></a> Although, perhaps, it no longer happens that -"Wretches hang, that jurymen may dine;" yet many a man has a cause -affecting his life, or his happiness through life, tried with no -slight inattention, because he has not committed some distinguished -crime, or performed it in a remarkable manner.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, the expected moment came for the trial of Martin and his -companions, and the prisoners were brought in and placed at the bar. -All eyes were upon them, and certainly an awful moment must it be, -when a man enters a crowded and expecting court, loaded with the -charge of a heavy crime, waiting for the ordeal of a public trial, -knowing that his fate for life or death is there to be sealed in a few -short hours, and sees fixed upon him the thousand eyes of a multitude -who have come there to pry into and enjoy all his emotions, to witness -the terrible struggle, and mark how he bears his destiny. It must be a -strong heart, or a hard one, that can endure that first look with -calmness.</p> - -<p class="normal">Very different from each other, in aspect and demeanour, were the four -men who now advanced into the dock. Two of them hung their heads and -looked down upon the ground; one of them gazed around with a faint and -affected smile, nodding to some one that he saw in the crowd, and -labouring painfully to appear at ease. Martin, on the contrary, came -forward, looking straight before him, with his head erect, his broad -chest expanded, and his step slow, but firm. His brow was somewhat -knit and thoughtful, but his air was frank as usual, and after having -gazed towards the bench and the barristers' table, he turned his eyes -slowly to the right and left, scanning the eager faces of the crowd -with an unquailing eye and an unchanging countenance. The clerk of the -arraigns then read the indictment, charging the four prisoners with -breaking into the house of Mr. Carr, at Yelverly, and stealing thence -various sums of money, and articles of gold and silver, and he then -asked the prisoners severally for their plea.</p> - -<p class="normal">Contrary to the expectation of all present, while the three men who -had seemed most cowed by the aspect of the court, pleaded "Not -guilty," in a firm and distinct tone, and gave an immediate answer, -Martin paused for a moment, ere he replied, as if he had some -hesitation, and then answered likewise, but in a low voice, "Not -guilty."</p> - -<p class="normal">It may seem strange, it may be called unnatural, but I believe that, -at that moment, there was in the heart of the bold and criminal man of -whom I speak, a repugnance to tell a public falsehood, and to put in a -plea that was not true. He would have given a great deal, as he stood -there, to have been permitted to claim the old battle ordeal--ay, if -there had been twenty champions against him; but with all his faults -and crimes, he liked not to say he was not guilty, when he knew -himself to be so.</p> - -<p class="normal">The jury was then called over and sworn, no challenges being made, and -after the usual formalities, the counsel for the crown addressed the -court, with a due sense of the responsibility that rests upon him who -undertakes the part of public accuser. Not one word did he say to -display his own skill, or eloquence, to excite the passions of his -auditory, or to prejudice the cause that was about to be tried. He -mentioned the facts of the robbery, as they had taken place, the -evidence by which he intended to prove those facts, the circumstances -which he thought might justly fix the crime upon the prisoners at the -bar, and then left it to the jury to decide whether they were guilty -or not, according to the impression produced by the testimony about to -be given before them.</p> - -<p class="normal">After the conclusion of the counsel's speech, a momentary interruption -of the proceedings took place, and a report ran round the court, that -one of the principal witnesses had been taken suddenly ill. The judge -and the counsel for the crown held some conversation together, the -principal part of which was only heard by those near them; but at -length the former said, distinctly--"I think that such is the best -course to pursue. It does not much matter to you in what order the -evidence is taken, and, probably, before we have proceeded far, the -witness may be able to appear."</p> - -<p class="normal">The counsel acquiesced in the judge's view, much to the relief of the -spectators, who had become apprehensive that they might lose their -amusement for the morning.</p> - -<p class="normal">The two witnesses first called were the female servants of Mr. Carr, -who, together with the labourers who had come to the rescue of the -inhabitants of Yelverly, proved the facts of the robbery, but could -say nothing to fix the guilt upon either of the prisoners in the dock. -The housemaid, indeed, dealt a little in the marvellous, and though -her fellow-servant had declared that she was asleep the whole time, -vowed that she had seen one of the robbers, and that he was at least -six inches taller than any of the prisoners; which called from the -prisoner's counsel the significant remark, that the maid's testimony -would go far to fix the burglary upon the Irish Giant. He declined to -cross-examine her, however, saying, with a nod and a shrewd look to -the jury, that her evidence was very well as it was, and would be -received for as much as it was worth--but no more. Some of the -prisoners smiled, but Harry Martin still remained grave, and -thoughtful. His brow, indeed, gathered into a stern frown when the -name of the next witness was pronounced, and Frederick, Count Lieberg, -was called into court.</p> - -<p class="normal">The foreign appellation, and the rank of the witness, caused a -movement of curiosity amongst the spectators, and a slight murmur, in -the midst of which, Lieberg advanced, and took his place in the -witness-box, with that sort of calm and impressive demeanour, which -bespeaks both attention and belief--very often, alas! where neither is -due; for those who have been accustomed to frequent senates and -courts, must have observed how much attention an empty speech will -gain from an attractive tone and manner; and how readily a falsehood -is believed, when the face of the teller bears the appearance of a -firm conviction. Let the reader be sure that the lie is as much in the -manner as the words, and that its success depends more upon the former -than the latter.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg's handsome face, too, and fine person, the accurate taste of -his dress, and his military carriage, all struck the spectators, and -the court, and prepared them to give full credit to every word that he -uttered. The judge alone, long accustomed to remark the slightest -changes of the human countenance--whose memory was, in short, a -dictionary of looks--remarked a something when the eye of the witness -lighted on the prisoner Martin, which made him say to himself--"There -is hatred there." It was no permanent expression, but one that passed -like a gleam of lightning, over his face, and was gone--a flash of the -eye, a sudden convulsive curl of the lip, a momentary contraction of -the brow, and then all was calm again.</p> - -<p class="normal">After stating who and what he was, and that he had visited the house -of Mr. Carr for the purpose of hiring some shooting in the -neighbourhood, Lieberg went on to give, in a clear and perspicuous -manner, and, as usual, without the slightest foreign accent in the -world, his account of all that occurred on the night of the robbery. -Nor was that account far different from the truth, for Lieberg well -knew that truth is always more convincing than falsehood, and, -consequently, he contented himself with as little of the latter -ingredient in his story as was possible, consistent with his purposes. -The only part, then, of his statement which was calculated to deceive, -was that he had been roused out of his sleep by a scream, and was -issuing forth from his room to see what it was, when he received a -blow on the head, which stunned him for a few minutes. He next -proceeded to say, that on recovering his senses, he found himself -bound, and, looking through his half-closed eyes, saw two men in his -chamber, rifling his trunks and dressing-case. They remained there, he -continued, for some time, talking aloud, and then went away, leaving -him still tied.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Have you seen either of those men since?" demanded the examining -counsel.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have," replied Lieberg, firmly. "I see one of them now,"--and he -fixed his eyes upon Harry Martin, with a stern look.</p> - -<p class="normal">The judge smiled, as he saw the direction of his glance; but the -counsel bade the witness point out the man, if he still saw him in -court. Lieberg immediately held out his hand towards Martin, -saying--"Of the four prisoners in the dock, the one upon the extreme -right, I can swear to, as one of those whom I saw in my room that -night." As he spoke, he bent his eyes full upon Martin's face, and the -prisoner returned his stare, with a look as proud and powerful as his -own; and again a murmur ran through the court, as the spectators -remarked the glances which those two men interchanged.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you see in the court the second man who was in your room?" -demanded the counsel.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think that the other prisoner, at the further end of the dock, is -he," said Lieberg; "but I cannot swear to him."</p> - -<p class="normal">After a few more questions, the examination in chief was ended, and -Count Lieberg was turned over to the hands of the prisoners' counsel, -who proceeded to cross-examine him at length.</p> - -<p class="normal">It is a terrible engine, a cross-examination, in the hands of one who -knows how to wield it properly. It is a sort of mental torture, for -the purpose of making a witness confess the truth, but which, like the -rack and the thumb-screw, has as often brought forth falsehood, as -that which is sought to be elicited; and yet it is impossible, -perhaps, to do without it. The proud spirit of Lieberg writhed -within him at all that he was obliged to endure, during his -cross-examination, but with the wonderful command which he possessed -over himself, he covered, for a long time, all his feelings with an -exterior of cold composure; revenging himself, from time to time, upon -the counsel, by a bitter sneer, which made the court smile, though his -own lip remained unmoved and stern.</p> - -<p class="normal">He was made to go over and over again the exact position in which he -stood, when he received the blow that stunned him; and a number of -questions were asked which seemed directed to puzzle the witness, more -than to accomplish any other object; and then the counsel demanded, -suddenly, whether he were not actually up, and at the door of his -room, when he heard the scream he had mentioned?</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have already said," replied Lieberg, "that it woke me from my -sleep; and I must appeal to the court, whether this course of -examination is to be persisted in?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The judge, however, did not see that the question was at all -objectionable, and the counsel had the pleasure of finding that he had -irritated the witness. He then went on to ask him, by what signs and -external marks it was that he recognised the prisoner; and he made him -acknowledge that the faces of the men he had seen were covered with a -black crape, and their figures enveloped in smock frocks.</p> - -<p class="normal">"How was it, then," the counsel asked, "that the Count recognised one -of them so rapidly?--was it by his feet, which might have appeared -from under the smock frock--or was it by his hands?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg replied that it was by his general appearance; and, knowing -that his visit to the prisoner's cell might, sooner or later, be made -a subject of discussion, he determined, with his usual decision of -character, to touch upon it at once himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I remember him," he said, "by his general appearance, and also by -another indication. I have told the court that I heard him speak for -some time----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But," exclaimed the counsel, interrupting him, and evidently prepared -for what was to follow, by some intimation from Martin himself--"but -you have not heard him speak in this court; and I will now ask you, -Count Lieberg, upon your oath--remember, you are upon your oath, -sir--whether you did not visit this prisoner in York Castle, for the -purpose of entering into a compromise with him, which would have -nullified your evidence here this day?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The counsel for the crown here interfered, and the court declared that -the question could not be so put in such a shape, though the counsel -for the prisoner asserted that it was necessary for his defence. -The very discussion, however, produced what the keen lawyer -desired--namely, a doubt in the minds of the jury; and Lieberg's eye -gathered, in a moment, from the countenances around him, that an -advantage had been gained by his adversary. He decided at once upon -his line of conduct, and, bowing to the court, said, with a degree of -rapidity which rendered it difficult to stop him--"The question has -been asked, and I am not only willing, but desirous, of answering it -at once. It is very easy for a hireling advocate, by base -insinuations, to affect the character of a witness, but the stain must -not rest upon my honour. I did visit the prisoner the night before -last; but it was, as I explained to those who gave me admission, for -the purpose of hearing him speak in common conversation, with a view -to make myself quite sure of his identity. He threatened me, it is -true, if I gave evidence against him, and----"</p> - -<p class="normal">But the court again interfered, in a peremptory tone, signifying -distinctly, that neither the counsel nor the witness could be allowed -to go on in the course which they were following, and Lieberg's -cross-examination was soon after terminated, the barrister who -conducted it being satisfied with the impression which he had -produced, and which remained unfavourable to Count Lieberg; for -suspicion is one of those evil weeds which, when once planted, can by -no possibility be eradicated from the soil in which they have taken -root.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg left the witness-box with a frowning brow, but took a place in -the court to see the rest of the proceedings. At the next name that -was called, there were two hearts that beat in the court--that of the -prisoner, and that of Count Lieberg; but it was the heart of the -latter which throbbed most violently when the crier pronounced the -words--"Helen Barham!" He looked round the people, and thought it -strange to see the indifference upon the faces of all; for so intense -were his own sensations, that he forgot the crowd were not aware who -Helen Barham was, and that the name, for aught they knew, might -appertain to some inferior person in the household of Mr. Carr. When -she appeared, however, and lifted her veil, her extraordinary -loveliness produced at first a dead silence, and then a low murmur of -admiration. Helen's cheek, which was unusually pale when she entered, -grew crimson as she saw the multitude of eyes upon her, and read in -every look the effect of her beauty upon the crowd. To one, feeling as -she did, that admiration was a very painful part of a situation -already too terrible. She turned pale again--she turned red--she felt -as if she should faint; and, while in this state, an old mumbling -officer of the court put a book into her hand, ran over indistinctly -some words she did not hear, and then added, in a louder tone--"Kiss -the book!" Helen obeyed mechanically; and, after a short pause, to -allow her to recover herself, her examination began. The counsel for -the crown addressed her in a softened voice; and while she spoke in -answer to his questions, and detailed all that had occurred on the -night of the robbery, the prisoner, Martin, never took his eyes from -her face. At the same time, the dark light of Lieberg's--if I may use -a term which seems a contradiction--poured upon her countenance -unceasingly. It seemed as if he were trying to intimidate her by that -stern fixed gaze; but Helen had now regained her composure, and -proceeded unwavering, with her soft musical voice, in a tone low -indeed, but so clear, that each word was heard by every ear. There was -no backwardness no hesitation; and there was not a heart in that hall -which did not feel she was uttering the simple, undisguised truth. She -told how she had been awakened; how she had seen the face of one of -the robbers; how she had uttered an involuntary cry; how he had rushed -towards her, with the intention of burying her testimony against him -in the silence of the grave, and how he had spared her.</p> - -<p class="normal">She paused for a moment, while a tear or two ran over her cheek, and -hers were not the only eyes in the court that shed bright drops.</p> - -<p class="normal">She then went on to tell all that had occurred afterwards, till the -period when she was left alone in Sheffield; and then the counsel took -a grave, and somewhat sterner tone with her, saying--"Miss Barham, I -feel deeply for your situation, after the promise that you have made, -for the purpose of saving your life; but before I propose to you the -question which I am about to ask, I beg to remind you, first, that no -promise, exacted under fear of death, can be held binding for one -moment; secondly, that you have a duty to your God and country to -perform--to the laws, and to society in general, which duty must be -accomplished unflinchingly; and I now ask you, by that duty, however -much pain it may give you--Do you, or do you not, see in this court -the man whose face you beheld on the night in question?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen paused, and there was a dead silence through the whole hall.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will not prevaricate in the least," she replied, in a voice still -firm, though her face was very pale, "and I know fully what I expose -myself to; but I will not answer, in any way, a question which -endangers the life of a man who spared mine when my death would have -ensured his safety. I will not say, whether I do see him or do not see -him, and I will bear no testimony against him whatsoever."</p> - -<p class="normal">Again there was a profound silence in the court; and then the counsel -expostulated, and the judge, in a mild but serious manner, brought -forward every argument which could be adduced, to persuade Helen -Barham to answer the question asked her; but nothing moved her, and -when he added a threat of using the authority with which he was -invested for punishing contempt of the court, she replied in a mild -and humble, but still a firm tone--"I came hither, my lord, with a -full knowledge of what you might be obliged to do; and I have only to -beseech you, in consideration of the circumstances in which I am -placed, to deal with me as leniently as possible, believing that it is -a firm belief I should be committing a great crime, were I to act -otherwise, that makes me maintain a silence which, whatever it may be -called, does not border in the slightest degree upon contempt."</p> - -<p class="normal">The good judge looked down, evidently distressed and puzzled how to -act. But the counsel for the crown--resolved at all events to -gain some admission which might prove the fact he wanted to -establish--demanded, somewhat suddenly--"Is it your final -determination, Miss Barham, not to point out in this court the man -whose face you saw on the night in question?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did not say he was in the court," replied Helen, who had studiously -kept her eyes turned from the dock ever since she entered--"I know not -whether he is in the court or not. I merely said that I would not -answer any question on the subject. If it were to affect my life -itself I would make the same reply, for that life which he spared he -has every right to require again, if by the sacrifice of it his own -can be shielded."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear," said the judge, "that the dignity of the court must be -vindicated. Miss Barham, I warn you, that if you still refuse to give -evidence, I must commit you for contempt, as the most lenient method -of dealing with you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen bowed her beautiful head, replying, in a low tone--"I know it, -my lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let the warrant be made out," said the judge; "and let the witness be -removed in custody."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he saw Helen quitting the witness-box in charge of the officers of -the court, Harry Martin took a quick step forward to the front of the -dock, as if about to speak, but at that moment a warning voice was -heard amongst the crowd, exclaiming--"Harry!"</p> - -<p class="normal">His eyes ran rapidly round to that side of the court, and he saw his -wife with her two hands clasped, gazing with a look of agony in his -face. He instantly cast down his eyes again, and drew slightly back, -while one of his companions in captivity whispered--"Well, that girl -is a diamond!"</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meanwhile, a pause had taken place in the court; and the judge, -anxious to get rid of the impression which Helen's conduct had -produced upon himself as well as others, directed the next witness to -be called. The name of Mr. Carr was accordingly pronounced, the -counsel at the same time asking some one who stood near if that -gentleman were well enough to appear. Ere an answer could be given, -however, Mr. Carr himself was supported into the witness-box, and was -accommodated with a seat. He was deadly pale, and shook very much, as -if affected by cold or fear; and he gave his evidence in so low a -tone, that the examining barrister was more than once obliged to bid -him raise his voice. He, as the rest of the witnesses had done, -detailed all that he knew of the robbery, but as his room was the one -which had been the most completely rifled, he appeared to have seen -more of the actual robbers than any one else. There were four of them, -he said, and he had had a good opportunity of marking them well while -they tied him to the bed-posts, and stripped his chamber of all that -was valuable in it. He had not seen their faces, it is true, but -nevertheless, from their general appearance, he could swear to them -anywhere.</p> - -<p class="normal">Towards this part of Mr. Carr's evidence, he seemed to become heated -by the thought of the property he had lost, and he spoke much louder -and quicker than before, but just then there was a little bustle and -confusion on the opposite side of the court, and Mr. Carr raised his -eyes. What he saw there no one knew, but his voice fell, and his -countenance changed; and when the counsel told him to point out the -persons who had robbed him, if he saw them in the court, Mr. Carr -gazed into the dock with a vacant look, and shook his head, saying--"I -do not think any of those are the men. The three on this side, indeed, -might be amongst them, but that man beyond "--and he pointed to the -prisoner Martin--"was certainly not one."</p> - -<p class="normal">A murmur of surprise, and it must be said of indignation, took place -at the counsel's table, for lawyers are not easily deceived in such -matters, and there was not one man there who was not perfectly -convinced that the prisoners at the bar were the persons who had -committed the robbery, and, moreover, that Mr. Carr knew it to be so. -The examining counsel made one more effort, by asking Mr. Carr how he -happened to be so sure in the case of Martin.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because," replied Mr. Carr, "none of the housebreakers were so tall -and powerful."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And yet," said the barrister, turning round to his brethren, "two of -the other prisoners are taller than he is. My lord, I think it is -inexpedient, after what we have heard, to call any further witnesses."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think so too," said the judge; "but I shall let the case go to the -jury."</p> - -<p class="normal">The prisoners declined making any defence, and the judge remarked it -was scarcely necessary for him to sum up the evidence, adding--"A more -disgraceful case I have never had the misfortune to see tried." The -jury, without quitting the box, returned a verdict of "Not Guilty."</p> - -<p class="normal">The judge then addressed the prisoners, saying--"A jury of your -country has acquitted you of a great crime, and I will not take upon -myself to make any observation tending to impugn the only verdict it -could return under the circumstances; but, at the sane time, you will -feel that there are facts connected with this trial which give it a -peculiar character, and that the same are never likely to occur again. -If, then, either or any of you have hitherto led a vicious or criminal -life, let the danger you have now run be a warning to you.--I do not -think, sir," he continued, addressing the leading counsel for the -crown, "that after what has taken place, we can deal very severely -with Miss Barham. Let it be notified to her, that upon due petition -the court will order her discharge;" and he turned, to his paper to -see what was the next case set down for trial.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"The climate, not the heart, he changes who flies across the -wave." So -said the old Roman, some thousand years ago, and doubtless what he -said was true, both in his own day, when men cultivated a firm, fixed -spirit within them, and also in the present, in the case of some -individuals, to whom has descended the gem-like hardness of the -antique mind, on which lines, once engraved, are never to be effaced. -Nevertheless, in the rapid change of scene, in the running from land -to land, in new sights and new excitements, in the companionship of -fresh acquaintances, and even in the every-hour collision with our -fellow-creatures which takes place only in travelling, one wears away -the sharpness of some sorrows, as the gem which has rolled for ages in -the waters of the Tiber, or which is cast up by the waves of the Ægean -Sea, though it retains the figures which were cut into it ages ago, -loses the sharp outline that it received from the graver's tool.</p> - -<p class="normal">As there is scarcely a plant on earth from which the bee cannot -extract honey, so there is scarcely a scene in the wide world from -which the mind that seeks real wisdom cannot draw a moral; and every -moral has its consolation. The very aspect of strange cities, whatever -be the grief in our heart at the time, brings its comfort, derived we -seldom examine how, and often mistake when we do examine, but wrought -out justly and reasonably, by the silent working of that spirit within -us, which, if we would let it, would always deduce its homily from -every object of the senses. We wander through the streets of a great -town, we gaze up at the tall houses, we mingle with the busy crowd, we -see the sunshine streaming upon some mansions, and the deep shade -resting upon others; at one window we behold a group of merry faces, -at another the close-drawn curtain, indicative of sickness, anguish, -and death. From the one door, with tabor, and pipe, and garlands, and -scattered flowers, goes forth the bride to the altar; from another, -streams out the dark procession of the grave. On each countenance that -we meet is written some tale of joy or sorrow; each street has its -history, each dwelling presents an episode in the great poem of human -life. We return to our own chamber with a calmness in our sorrows, -with a resignation in our melancholy that we have not before felt--and -why?</p> - -<p class="normal">Is it the universality of human misery that gives us a false support? -Is it, as the most misanthropical of philosophers has declared, that -there is comfort for each man in the sorrows of his fellow-creatures? -Is this the process by which we derive consolation from mingling in -the busy haunts of unknown races of beings like ourselves, and -discovering the same cares, pursuits, and joys, and griefs throughout -the world?</p> - -<p class="normal">Oh, no!--it is, that we are taught our own littleness, as one -individual ant in a whole ant-hill; and from the sense of our own -littleness we gain humility, and from humility resignation, and from -resignation love and admiration for that great God who made the -wondrous universe, of which we are an atom--some knowledge of his -power--some trust in his wisdom--confidence in his goodness, and some -hope in his protecting arm.</p> - -<p class="normal">Who is there that has ever stood amongst the multitudes of a strange -city, that has not asked himself--"What am I in the midst of all -these? what are all these to the God that made them? and is not that -God mine?" There may be such, but those who seek it will ever find, in -the contemplation of any scene where the workings of Almighty will are -displayed, some balm for those wounds which almost every man, in the -great warfare of the world, carries about beneath his armour; for--to -end as we have begun--there is a drop of honey in every flower.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein had executed his purpose; he had quitted England to -search--not for happiness, but for forgetfulness--not forgetfulness of -her he loved, but forgetfulness of himself and of his situation. But -alas, reader, it must be acknowledged, he sought not the drop of honey -in the way that it might most easily be found! The same impatient -spirit was upon him, which rebelled against the share of human sorrow -that was allotted to him; and, full of its suggestions he struggled to -drown thought and reflection, rather than to find comfort by their -aid. Pride, too, as we have shewn, had its share in his feelings; he -was angry with himself that his heart had bent before any blow. He -accused himself of weakness, not knowing where he was really weak; he -strove to steel his bosom, and, in fact, only hardened his external -demeanour.</p> - -<p class="normal">A fit of illness which overtook him at Calais, of no very serious -character or long duration, only served to increase his irritation and -impatience. He had been angry before with the weakness of his mind, as -he called it; he now felt a degree of scorn at himself and at human -nature, for that weakness of body which yields to any of the trifling -accidents of air and climate; and the very irritation which he felt, -increased and prolonged the sickness under which he laboured.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, however, he was convalescent, and being permitted to go out -for an hour or two, walked forth into the town, thinking that in its -streets he might find something to call his mind away from himself. -But little indeed can the good town, whose name was written upon -Mary's heart, display, even to the eyes of an Englishman, to occupy or -interest him for a moment. It is a sad, dull place, but in those days -the communication between France and England having been interrupted -for many years, and only opened for a few, there was a kind of local -colouring about Calais which supplied the want of other attractions. -There one saw a great many things that one had never beheld before. -Postilions were to be found with enormous pigtails, and as much wood -as leather in their boots; ropes served for harness, and peasant women -came to market covered with great ornaments of gold. The contrast, -indeed, was strong between the two sides of the water, and Morley -Ernstein's eye soon became occupied, even when he believed his mind -was taking no part in any of the objects around him.</p> - -<p class="normal">The dull lethargy which comes upon the spirit of man under the -influence of any bitter disappointment, is never so easily thrown off -as when fancy is awakened by some of the magic tones of association. -There are few places in this good world that are not linked on to some -interesting event in history, and even the small, dull town of Calais -itself figures in the records of the past on more than one important -occasion. Nothing, however, presented itself, in the aspect of the -place, or in anything on which his eye rested, that could carry the -mind of Morley Ernstein away to other days, till he paused for a -moment, after a ramble round the market-place, before a bronze bust, -which is not easily to be passed unnoticed.</p> - -<p class="normal">There are some heads, as the reader must often have remarked, which -are very beautiful in painting, but which lose all their interest when -sculptured; there are others, however, which seem to demand the marble -or the bronze; and if we compare accurately the busts that have come -down to us from ancient times with the history of the persons whom -they represent, we shall find that the man of fixed and powerful -thoughts, of stern and rigid determination, affords almost always the -best subject for the statuary, as if the character of his mind -required something analogous to receive the expression which it gave -to his features. Of all the heads in modern times, perhaps that of the -Cardinal de Richelieu was the one which afforded the finest subject -for the sculptor. All the paintings of him are weak when compared to -his character; it is in bronze that his image ought to go down to -posterity.</p> - -<p class="normal">The moment Morley's eyes fixed upon his bust, the lightning of the -mind flashed back into the chasm of past years--the scenes of other -days, the block, the axe, the chamber of the torture, and all the dark -implements with which that terrible man built up the fabric of his -greatness, came before his eyes in a moment, and, for the first time -since the cloud of sorrow had fallen upon him, his spirit found a -momentary sunshine in the memories of ancient lore.</p> - -<p class="normal">He stood and gazed, then, with his arms folded on his chest, while the -people walking to and fro passed and repassed him, and many a one -commented as they went, and assigned him a history and a character -from their own imagination. How seldom is it, in the busy world with -which we mingle, that any of the conjectures regarding our thoughts, -our feelings, our state of existence, are correct! How rarely, from -any of the indications that man's external demeanour affords to -society, can one single trait of the heart's countenance be divined! -Alas, dear reader, that it should be so! but to one another we all -wear a mask.</p> - -<p class="normal">One man, as he passed by Morley Ernstein, and saw the traces of care -and thought on his countenance, settled it at once that he was some -young prodigal flying from his creditors--a very natural supposition -in the town of Calais or Boulogne. Another, moralizing with a friend -who walked beside him, declared, from his youth, his gloomy look, and -his distinguished attire, that he must have killed his best friend in -a duel, or committed some of those other dark crimes which society -never punishes, but conscience, sooner or later, always does; another -set him down for an indifferent <i>milord:</i></p> -<div style="margin-left:10%; font-size:10pt"> -<pre> - "Parfait Anglais voyageant sans dessein, - Achetant cher de modernes antiques, - Regardant tout avec un air hautain, - Et méprisant les saints et leurs reliques." -</pre> -</div> -<p class="continue">But at that moment there was one near him who knew better; and while -Morley continued to gaze at the bust of Richelieu, careless altogether -of what any one thought of him--shut up, in short, like the lady of -the Arabian giant, in a glass-case of his own sensations and thoughts, -through which he could be seen, but could not be approached--he was -suddenly roused by hearing his name pronounced, and, turning round, -saw a countenance not less striking than that of Richelieu himself, -nor, upon the whole, very different in character.</p> - -<p class="normal">The first impression was not pleasant, for the loneliness of heart -that he felt upon him, made him repugnant to all companionship. -Neither was the man he saw one in whom he was inclined to trust, or to -confide--one whose sympathies were with him, or upon whose counsel he -could rely; but yet, to say the truth, when he remembered the charm of -his conversation, the power that he seemed to possess of leading the -mind of others, with whom he held any communication, away from all -that was unpleasant or painful, to brighter objects and to calmer -thoughts, the first shrinking feeling of unwillingness passed away, -and he stretched out his hand frankly, exclaiming--"Lieberg! I little -dreamed of meeting you here."</p> - -<p class="normal">Now the reader may remark, with great justice--"What, then, Morley -Ernstein was by this time willing to seek entertainment!--If so, his -sorrow was on the wane." He may likewise observe, that after all the -acts and deeds committed by the worthy gentleman who now stood before -him, it would surely have been more characteristic of Morley Ernstein -to turn his back than to hold out his hand. True, O courteous -reader!--true, in both cases--with the qualification of a "<i>but</i>." Did -you ever happen to take, under the influence of any of the many ills -that flesh is heir to, a dose which seemed somewhat bitter at first, -but which produced great relief to the sick heart, or the aching head? -If you have, you will know that though you might nauseate the remedy -at first, you sought it eagerly again as soon as you had experienced -the benefit thereof. Now Morley Ernstein was exactly in that -situation. Under the first pressure of grief, he had turned from the -very thought of amusement with disgust; but in mere occupation he had -found a mitigation of pain; and while gazing at the bust of that great -and terrible man, and suffering his mind to run over the scenes of the -past, he had felt an interval of tranquillity which he had not known -for many a-day. Conscious therefore that in Lieberg's society he would -find more of the same kind of relief than in that perhaps of any other -man living, he was not unwilling to take the same medicine for his -wound again, although there might be still a degree of repugnance -lingering at his heart. In regard to the second point, let it be -recollected, dear reader, that although our good friend, Count -Lieberg, had done everything on earth which Morley Ernstein would have -looked upon as base and villanous, had he been aware of the facts, not -one particular of all those transactions with which the reader is -fully acquainted had been made known to him either by Helen or Juliet; -and he was utterly ignorant of the whole. He looked upon Lieberg -merely as a man of the world, with better feelings than principles; -for although Morley was somewhat philosophically disposed by nature, -he wanted totally that experience which, in the end, convinces us that -the separation between good principles and good feelings is much more -rare than youth and passion are willing to admit.</p> - -<p class="normal">Principle may be one check upon a man, good feeling another; the man -who has both is sure to go right, but the man who has either will not -go far astray, and in this case too you may know the tree by its -fruits. Of Lieberg's conduct to Helen Barham, of his conduct to her -brother, Morley was ignorant; and though at first, as I have said, he -felt but little disposed to like the society of any one, yet the -second impulse made him hold out his hand, and utter the words that I -have mentioned.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I as little thought to see you in Calais," said Lieberg, in reply; -"but I did trust to overtake you in Paris; for on my return to town, I -heard that you had suddenly quitted England, that something had gone -wrong with you, and that you were about to make an autumnal wandering -in other lands."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg paused, seeing that the allusion which he had made to the -cause of his companion's quitting England made Morley's brow knit -heavily, and his eyes seek the ground. "To say the truth," continued -Lieberg, "I am not in the best spirits myself, and I am somewhat -aweary of this working-day world. I tried all the various resources of -Great Britain for shaking off the dulness of this season of the -year--fired a gun or two upon the moors, spent a day at a fashionable -watering-place, and finding that everything was vanity and vexation of -spirit, set off, post haste, to overtake you in Paris, and see if you -would take a grumbling tour with me through foreign lands."</p> - -<p class="normal">The picture which he gave of his state of mind was adapted with -infinite art to the mood which his keen and penetrating eyes saw at -once was dominant with his companion. A faint, and, as it were, -unwilling smile, was Morley's only reply; but he passed his arm -through that of Lieberg, and as they turned back, towards the inn, the -latter proceeded--"We can go, you know, across from Paris to Cologne, -then ramble along the banks of the Rhine, make our way through the -Tyrol into Italy, spend the cold season at Rome or Naples, and then, -if you like it, '<i>mitescente hyeme</i>,' return to England. Or," he -continued, "if that suits you not, we can ramble still farther, plunge -into Calabria, visit the blue shores of Greece, see the fairy-tale -wonders of Constantinople, range through the scenes of the crusades in -Syria and Palestine, and scour on fleet horses the sandy deserts of -Egypt. Where need we stop, Morley? where need we stop? I have no tie -to one quarter of the globe--you have none either, that I know of; the -world is all before us, and the wonders, not only of a hundred -countries, but a hundred ages. Where shall we not find some astounding -record of the mighty past? Some of those marbles, which, in their -slowly perishing grandeur; teach us the littleness of all things -present, and, amongst the rest, of the cares and sorrows that we may -both be suffering? Of those cares and sorrows we will speak no more; I -ask you not what are yours--you question me not regarding mine. But -let us onward, onward together, through all the varied scenes of -earth, pausing no longer anywhere than while enjoyment is in its -freshness, taking the grape while the bloom is upon it, and the flower -before a leaf is shed. Once more, what say you?--shall it be so?"</p> - -<p class="normal">There was something in the tone in which he spoke, in the picture that -he presented, in the very rapid succession of objects which he -proposed, that seemed addressed with careful calculation to the weaker -part of Morley's character--to the rash, the impetuous, the -excitement-loving spirit, which had been long kept down by the -influence of the better soul within him. There was nothing in the -scheme against which that better soul could raise the warning voice; -there was no one thing suggested which could be branded with the name -of evil. It was like offering to an eager and a fiery horse a wide and -swift career, while, faint at the far extreme, appeared a goal hung -with prizes, which seemed to glitter, though dim and confused from the -distance at which they were placed.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley hesitated not, but replied, his eyes for a moment lighting up -with the fire which used once to be kindled so readily in them--"I -will go willingly, Lieberg. It is, in fact, the scheme I had laid out -for myself, only improved and brightened by having you for my -companion. I have been ill since I have been here; but to-morrow they -assure me I shall be ready to continue my journey."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"Providence," says a powerful but dangerous author of another -land--"has placed Disgust at the door of all bad places."</p> - -<p class="normal">But, alas, she keeps herself behind the door as we go in, and it is -only when we come out that we meet her face to face! The road to evil -is undoubtedly a flowery path, smoothed down and softened with every -care, so that no obstruction, no difficulty, may retard our steps, or -keep us within the bounds of right. It is only when we would turn -again that we discover the thorns.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such may seem a strange homily wherewith to begin an account of the -journey of Morley Ernstein and Frederick, Count Lieberg. It is -nevertheless an undoubted fact, dear reader, that of all the many -persons well calculated to smooth that high road to vice, of which we -have just spoken, the young Baronet could have found none more -dangerous than the man who, placed side by side with him, commenced, -on the day following that with which we terminated our last chapter, a -tour through lands where temptation is cheap, example abundant, and -punishment rare--except, indeed, that silent punishment of the heart, -the sentence of God's own law, to which man has sometimes added -corporeal infliction, but from which he can never take away one fiery -drop.</p> - -<p class="normal">They sat side by side in Morley's carriage, turning over that of Count -Lieberg to servants and baggage; for, as we have seen, Morley had no -less than three men in his train--the courier, the groom, and good -Adam Gray--while Lieberg was armed with a courier and a valet, so that -they were plenty certainly to occupy both vehicles. The conversation -between the two travelling companions was, of course, modified by the -circumstances in which they were placed. It was no longer the wide, -discursive, rambling play of fancy which had characterized their -communications at an earlier period of their acquaintance, but it was -full of deeper thoughts and feelings. It was no longer the even flow -of a bright and sparkling rivulet, dancing rapidly on, uninterrupted -by any obstacle, glistening over the pebbles of its bed, and whirling -in murmuring eddies from the banks; but it was the mountain-torrent, -amongst rocks and precipices, now pausing in deep silent pools, now -dashing through stones and crags, and now plunging, in an eager -cataract, over the edge of the precipitous cliff.</p> - -<p class="normal">It might be that Lieberg's mind had itself taken a different mood from -the various scenes through which he had lately gone, from the violent -passions which had actuated him, from the bitter disappointment of -pride, and vanity, and love. Or was it that he purposely gave to all -he said that tone which made it harmonize with the mood and temper of -his companion at that moment? Who shall say which? Certain it is, -however, that he, as usual, led the conversation, and led it in that -exact strain which bore the mind of Morley Ernstein along with him. He -suffered the pauses that took place to be long; he forced not his -fellow-traveller to speak; he meditated, as well as Morley, and only -roused himself from his silence to cast forth some fierce and flashing -sarcasm at the world and all that it contains, or to utter some deep -and stern comment upon human happiness or human efforts. It was like -the stillness of the storm's approach broken by the flash of the -thunder. Then, if he found his companion so disposed, he would go on -in a rambling and meditative manner, with a dark gloom pervading all -he said, like the shadow of the cloud, remaining even when the voice -of the tempest is still.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you see that mother nursing her child, Morley?" he said, after a -pause, as they drove through one of those small, miserable villages, -to be found so frequently upon the road from Calais to Paris--"do you -see yon mother nursing her child? Is it not a pretty sight?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think it is," replied Morley, somewhat surprised at the sneering -turn of the lip that accompanied his words.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay," continued Lieberg, "it is indeed a sweet sight to see the sowing -of hopes that go on from blight to blight, till all are blasted to the -very root. For what is she nursing it, Morley? For sickness, and -sorrow, and disappointment; for anguish of body and of mind; to find -virtue become a curse, or pleasure alone in vice; for sin, crime, -misery, and death, the grave and corruption, and hell hereafter! It is -a sweet sight, indeed; and yet, if there be truth, either in Holy -Writ, or in worldly experience, such is what we have just seen. The -child was a girl, was it not?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think so," replied Morley, gloomily.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Poor thing!" said Lieberg--"the more her misery. Men can find -pleasure, or, at all events, relief from their cares, if they are wise -enough to seek it. Women are altogether slaves--their minds to -prejudices, their bodies to passions or to follies. They are worse -than any other slaves, the slaves of two masters--of man, and of -vanity."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley replied not, and the conversation dropped; but it is true, and -therefore must be admitted, that the tone assumed by his companion was -that which harmonized with the feelings in his own bosom, although he -might see in many cases the falseness of his arguments, and the -fallacy of all his deductions. Those feelings were of angry -discontent, and he would not take the trouble to refute Lieberg, even -where he perceived he was most wrong. It was like hearing a man who -has deeply injured us accused of faults that he has not committed--too -often do we listen, and internally dissent, but are silent, and -perhaps are pleased.</p> - -<p class="normal">After a pause of some minutes, Lieberg took up the same topic again, -pointing out how superior was the situation of man to woman; but still -the theme was, that man could drown every sorrow and every care by -varying excitements. It was too pleasant a doctrine for Morley, in his -state of mind at the time, willingly to resist, and he yielded -gradually to the belief that the only course for him to pursue was, to -drown the memory of Juliet Carr by anything that could occupy or -interest him. He proposed to himself innocent objects, it is true; but -where is the man who can gallop his horse headlong at a fence, and say -that he will not leap it?</p> - -<p class="normal">The first day's journey passed in such conversation as we have -described, and the carriages paused at Beauvais, for the night. It was -yet light; and to while away an hour ere dinner was ready, Morley -Ernstein, without giving any notice to Lieberg, who had gone to -another room, strolled out to the fine old cathedral, and entered -those doors which, in Roman-catholic countries, are never shut against -the worshipper.</p> - -<p class="normal">He gazed up towards the high transept, the magnificent proportions of -which must ever bow the heart to religious feelings, first calling to -taste, and taste leading on imagination, and imagination bringing a -thousand devout images in her train, as is always the case when -appealed to by anything grand and solemn. There is something, also, in -the architecture of Gothic churches, which has certainly a more -devotional effect than the light and graceful buildings of the Greeks. -There are near relationships between all grand sensations. Awe is the -sister of Devotion; and I believe that feelings truly sublime can -never be awakened in the human heart without ideas of religion rising -up with them. Man often becomes sensible of his littleness in the -midst of the works of his own hands; the eye runs up the tall column, -till it loses the tracery of the capital in the airy gloom above; he -stands at the foot of it as an insect, and thinks of the God for whose -worship that structure was raised, and to whom it is less than the -ant-hill on which we set our unconscious feet.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein felt the influence of the place. The shady hour; the -solemn arches; the sober hue of the building; the solitary lamp at a -shrine on the other side; the kneeling figure of a woman, half -hidden in the gloom; a receding step, that echoed along the vacant -vault;--all made him feel inclined to stay and meditate; and the -better spirit seemed to think her hour was come again, and lifted her -voice to take the bitterness from his wounded heart. It was in vain, -however, for the fiend was near him, and ere Morley had reached the -end of the choir, Lieberg was by him, and his hand upon his arm.</p> - -<p class="normal">How was it that he whiled Morley away from those contemplations, which -were likely to lead him to higher and holier feelings than those which -his counsels could inspire? It was by no light laugh--it was by no, -bitter sneer--it was by none of those means which he might have -employed at another time. He knew that there was a spirit dwelt in the -air of that place which would not suffer any method of the kind to -succeed. He called Morley's attention, then, to the beauties of the -building, he descanted upon columns and arches with the most refined -and delicate taste, he destroyed the grand effect of the whole by -engaging his companion's fancy in the examination of details, and, -drawing him out of the church, after having taken a turn round it, he -pointed to some of the grotesque ornaments, the grinning heads, and -monstrous forms which found place in the architecture of that day, and -then, and not till then, he ventured upon a sneer.</p> - -<p class="normal">"See, Morley," he said, "how these people think fit to decorate the -temples of their God, with heads of devils and serpents! Thus is it -with us all, I fear; and if we were to look to the temple which we -raise to God in our own hearts, we should find it as full of grinning -fooleries as the outside of a French cathedral. The very image that we -draw of him, nine times out of ten, if we could embody it, would be no -better than the great idol of Juggernaut; and, alas! like that idol, -we often make it, in bloody triumph, roll over a crowd of human -things, crushing all sweet affections, and joys, and happiness, -beneath the wheels of one superstition or another. Is it more -drivelling or more foolish to ornament a temple like that with toads, -and bats, and dragons of stone, than to suppose that the God who made -us and gave us powers of enjoyment, should quarrel with us for using -those powers, or tasting pleasure wherever we find it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It must depend upon the kind of pleasure, Lieberg," replied Morley, -somewhat sharply. "God will never quarrel with us, I am sure, for that -which neither injures ourselves, nor other individuals, nor society in -general--which neither degrades the spirit that he has given us, nor -takes away from the glory of the giver. But it is a wide subject, -Lieberg, which I will not discuss with you in my present mood; one -thing, however, is very certain, that man's foolish imaginations can -no more alter the nature of God, than those foolish ornaments can -affect the prayers that are offered in sincerity beneath those walls. -He has told us what he is, and with that we must rest satisfied."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg made no farther reply, for he was well aware, that one evil -thought, that one dark doubt in regard to right and wrong, once -implanted in the human mind, remains for its time buried in silence -and apparent forgetfulness, till the summer day of temptation causes -it to germinate and produce the richest harvest which a tempter can -desire. He left the subject, therefore, were it was, and the following -morning the two companions proceeded on their way towards the French -metropolis.</p> - -<p class="normal">They stayed not long in that capital, nor shall I pause upon all the -events that occurred there. Lieberg took care that Morley should not -want temptation, and it was not by any ordinary means that he -stimulated him to yield to it. He urged him not, he argued not with -him in order to induce him to plunge into the ordinary dissipations of -youth, but he proceeded by the sap and mine: every word, every tone, -and every look being directed to show without an effort--to impress -upon the mind of his companion as a self-evident truth, that a greater -or a less degree of vice was an inevitable necessity, an incident in -the life of every young man, without which, youth never reached -manhood. He took it for granted--or, at least, he seemed to do -so--that Morley's views on those subjects must be the same as his -own--nay, that he must be already in some degree dipped in the stream, -which is certainly neither that of immortality nor oblivion; and he -more than once thought fit to suppose that his young companion went -hither, or went thither with views which never entered into his head. -At the same time, as his acquaintance was very extensive in Paris, he -contrived that his fellow-traveller should be cast, whether he liked -it or not, into such society as he thought fit.</p> - -<p class="normal">Tools for any work are never wanting in Paris; a thousand accidents -brought about a meeting between Morley and this fair lady, or that -beautiful girl; and amidst the bright, the gay, and the fascinating, -there were many willing and well-skilled to lead youth upon the -flowery path of passion. A moment of strong temptation came, working -itself up by various accidents like clouds gathering together for a -storm. Lieberg watched it coming, and chose the precise moment when -the whole fabric of Morley's good feelings and good principles -tottered, for the purpose of making a great effort to overthrow them -altogether; but he strove for it, not as other men would have striven.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was a sombre evening, the moment of danger he knew was to be -towards nine o'clock that night, and Lieberg sought not to make his -companion pass the hours in any occupation which might banish thought -and reflection; on the contrary, it seemed as if a deep and heavy -gloom had fallen upon himself; his conversation was of the darkest and -desponding character; and, as they sat alone together, he skilfully -called up every idea that might pile such a load upon Morley's heart -and mind, as would impel him to anything in order to cast it off.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Such evenings as this make me sad," he said, with his dark, bright -eyes resting mournfully upon the young Englishman. "Autumn, indeed, is -always to me a time of darkness. It is the death-bed of the year, and -still, when I think how many pleasures have slipped by us -untasted--how few will ever return again,--when I think of the -emptiness of many things that I have sought and cared about, I feel a -cloud come over my spirit that I would give worlds to disperse! What a -difference, Morley," he continued, looking out of the window--"what a -difference between this evening and that on which I some time ago met -you in the park, with a beautiful girl hanging on your arm, and -looking as if she loved you!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley shrunk as if he had been rending open his heart, and bent down -his eyes upon the table, but Lieberg went on--"I, too, was happier -then," he continued; "but those dreams fade, and I do believe, after -all, that with women, the virtue and the high principle which we -admire is but coldness of nature. They will be to all appearance as -fond, as attached, as devoted, as may be, but put some small -stumbling-block in their way, and we shall find that they will whirl -all our happiness to the wind without a hesitation or a care."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley stretched out his hand to the Burgundy that stood by with a -sort of convulsive grasp, filled the tumbler to the brim, and drank it -off without a pause.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Give me the woman of passion," continued Lieberg--"she who yields to -the impetuous torrent of her love without fears of the consequences or -thoughts of the future--a thousand to one she betrays me, it is true, -but still she is mine while I possess her, and she can never inflict -upon me the pang of the cold-hearted, virtuous coquette, who raises -love almost to a pitch of agony, and then disappoints it with an agony -more terrible, verifying the Icelandic fable of the damned, whose -torture is, to be first burned in the heart of Hecla, and then plunged -into its eternal snows. There have been periods in my life, Morley, -when I have felt more bitterly than you know of; and it is ever in -such dull times as this that the memory of all which is sad and dark -in the past comes upon me. I wish the Salon was opened; I think I -could go and stake my last louis, to see if, by the gambler's feverish -joy, I could cast off this oppressive weight upon my breast. Give me -the wine, Morley, and let us have the windows closed--I love not the -world nor anything in it!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus went he on for some time in a tone of dark despondency, which -made the moral poison that mingled with all he said ten times more -potent and dangerous than when it came diluted with gayer things. Had -he presented to Morley's mind the memory of Juliet Carr in all her -purity and goodness, he would have called up a warning angel rather -than a fiend; but it was the memory of sorrows alone that he recalled, -of that anguish of mind which--as corporeal pain will sometimes drive -the wretch, in a moment of madness, to fly to deadly poison for the -repose of death--will often urge on the spirit to a thousand harmful -things, even for a moment's relief.</p> - -<p class="normal">As he proceeded, the load seemed to lie more and more heavy upon -Morley's heart. At first it bore him down, and seemed to overpower -him, but gradually he rose to struggle against it; the wine seemed to -strengthen him; he took another and another draught, but then he -paused, saying, he would drink no more: Already, however, it had -produced some effect, not in intoxicating, not in clouding his senses, -but in sending that fire through the veins which none but the -Burgundian grape can produce. He became impatient of Lieberg's gloomy -tone--he was glad when the clock struck nine.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha! there is the hour," cried Lieberg. "Now will you come to the -Salon, Morley? We shall find some excitement, at least, in those -mischievous pieces of pasteboard."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," answered Morley, "I have an engagement to-night; my carriage -must be by this time in the court;" and hurrying away to escape -further question, the sound of wheels were heard the moment after.</p> - -<p class="normal">A dark smile came upon Lieberg's countenance. He, too, went forth, but -he was not absent more than an hour; and then, speaking a word to his -valet as he passed, he walked into the sitting-room, and sat down to -read. It was past one o'clock when the valet entered, suddenly -saying--"That is his carriage now, sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg went out into the corridor, and passed Morley Ernstein, as, -with a slow step, the young Englishman mounted the stairs. He gave him -but a word of salutation, and hurried on; but Lieberg marked the -haggard eye and the flushed cheek, and, entering his own bed-room, he -stood silent for a moment in the midst of the floor, with a look of -fierce triumph. It was as if he had won a great victory.</p> - -<p class="normal">But there must have been a motive for all this. There was, and his -words showed it: "He has fallen!" he cried--"he has fallen! The first -plunge is taken! Who shall stop him now?--Neither Heaven nor hell. He -shall go on--he shall go on! and ere many a year, I will show her this -god of her idolatry as low and empty a licentious debauchee as any -that crawls through opera saloons, or spends his days and nights -between the gaming table and the brothel!"</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLIV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">At breakfast the following morning, the two travelling -companions met -again, and by that time a great change had come over the aspect of -Morley Ernstein. A change in a very small particular, but one so -remarkable that it instantly struck the eyes of Lieberg, surprised and -puzzled him. Morley was grave--perhaps one might say, sad--but there -was a calm, a tranquillity in his grief which had not appeared in his -demeanour since his parting with Juliet Carr. There seemed none of -that bitterness, that struggling against the hand of fate which had -before characterized his sorrow: he was sad, as we have said, but he -was no longer moody, indignant, and discontented.</p> - -<p class="normal">Although, alas! we have no window through which to look into the -breast of man, and see the springs and wheels of thought and action as -they work, yet imagination may pry into the motives, and, perhaps, -obtain some insight. It is but supposition, reader, yet we will try to -show the causes of the change in Morley Ernstein. Previous to this -period, the share of pride, which is in every human heart, had fixed -itself upon his high and steadfast adherence to right; there had been -in his bosom, in short, a sense of deserving; and a feeling of -ill-treatment and angry repugnance to submit to the will of God had -risen up when the first touch of sorrow lighted on him. He seemed to -think that he had a right to happiness, and that to make him take his -part in human griefs was an injustice.</p> - -<p class="normal">Of course it must not be supposed that he acknowledged such sensations -to his own mind; I paint them in the broad light as I believe they -stood, without the veils with which the deceitfulness of man's heart -covered them to Morley's own eyes. Had he analyzed his feelings, in -truth he would have discovered that--though he might have experienced -sorrow, deep poignant sorrow, at his disappointment under any -circumstances--the bitterer, the more fiery part of his grief would -have been absent, had he not set up a claim to deserving a better -fate. He had looked round, saying, as did the apostle, but with a -different feeling--"What man convinces me of sin?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Such had been his state up to the day before, and now the change which -had come over him was produced by self-abasement. He no longer stood -in the same proud position in his own eyes, he felt all his weakness, -all the weakness of human nature, and his spirit was bowed down in -humility before the will of God. He could no longer say--"I have -deserved;" and although his sadness was increased by knowing that he -had himself erred, yet it was a more wholesome grief than that which -he had before experienced, and bitter repentance opened his hearth, so -that resignation could take the place of despair.</p> - -<p class="normal">I have said that his demeanour puzzled Lieberg; he could not -comprehend the change that he saw in Morley Ernstein; but the truth -is, his own character was so different, that similar events would with -him have produced the reverse result. His spirit was one neither to -sorrow nor repent, and the consciousness of evil would but have made -him raise his head to meet the avenger; he might bow, indeed, under -the force of circumstances, but it was only for the purpose of an -after-struggle. He watched his companion attentively, then, but he -commented upon nothing that he saw; he took no note of their -conversation on the preceding evening, or of any events which might -have followed, but he began in a lighter, though not a gay tone, -asking Morley how he had slept, and adding--"What a stormy night it -has been."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" replied Morley; "I did not hear it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Innocence sleeps sound," said Lieberg, with a laugh--</p> -<div style="margin-left:10%; font-size:10pt"> -<pre> - "'Virtue, without the doctor's aid, - In the soft arms of sleep was laid; - Whilst vice, within the guilty breast, - Could not be physick'd into rest.' -</pre> -</div> -<p class="continue">"Is it so, Morley? But after all, what conventional nonsense those -poets write! Well may it be said that they deal in fiction, and their -morality is not a bit more real than the rest. A pretty sort of -morality, truly, one finds in all these moral poets, and other -righteous personages; they think no more of manufacturing a falsehood -to serve the cause of truth, as they call it, than a poor, honest, -wicked man like myself thinks of drinking my cup of coffee. Now what a -gross lie it is--so gross, indeed, as to be quite impotent--to tell us -that virtue is happiness, and that innocence always sleeps -comfortably! For my part, everything that I see around me makes me -believe, that, in this world at least, virtue is more akin to misery -than to happiness; and how many pangs and sorrows are there that from -time to time disturb the repose of innocence, and break the rest of -the purest and the best!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is true," replied Morley, thoughtfully. "Griefs may often break -the sleep of innocence, but can vice ever repose, Lieberg? And as to -the happiness or unhappiness of the good and the bad, thank God there -is another world where things may be made even!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your English proverb says," rejoined Lieberg, "that 'a bird in the -hand is worth two in the bush.' I would rather take out my stock of -happiness here, my good friend."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have been thinking much over that subject this very morning," -answered Morley, "and have made up my mind upon the matter, Lieberg."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And to what conclusion?" asked his companion.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That the balance even here is in favour of right," replied Morley. -"Supposing that there be an equal portion of misfortunes and -disappointments, successes and advantages, allotted to the virtuous -and the vicious--and there is nothing either in reason or experience -to show that the bad man is more favoured by fortune than the -good--the very nature of the virtuous man's own mind leaves his -pleasures not only more pure, but more poignant from the freshness of -his heart, while his sorrows are diminished by resignation to the will -of Him who sent them, and by those bright hopes which lighten half the -load of life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am glad to think that you have got up such a comfortable -philosophy," answered Lieberg, "for of late I have certainly seen that -you are very sad, Morley, and I have striven to the best of my power, -though somewhat vainly, to cheer you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thank you for it deeply," replied Morley, extending his hand, "and -I wish I had been wise enough to get up this philosophy, as you call -it, before. You would not have found it, then, so difficult to soothe -me, Lieberg."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is an excellent good philosophy," answered his companion; "and the -only part of it with which I might be inclined to quarrel, my good -friend, is the actual estimation of what is right and what is wrong, -what is innocent and what is vicious. I do not take for granted the -dictum of every would-be philosopher--no, nor of every puritan--when -he tells me that a thing which makes me very happy, and does no harm -to anybody, is a vice or a wickedness;--but there is no use of -talking any more about it. Ethics are a very uncertain science; -what's excessively wicked in one country is highly virtuous in -another--polygamy is an honoured observance in Turkey. Dwindle it down -to bigamy in England, and it becomes a great crime, for which you send -the poor wretch to hard labour in a penal colony, as if the fool's act -would not be punishment enough if we did but compel him to abide by -the consequences, and live with the two wives at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg laughed aloud, half drowning Morley's reply--"The Christian -has always a standard of morality, Lieberg."</p> - -<p class="normal">The former, however, wished to pursue the subject no more, for he was -satisfied with the advantages he had gained, and was well inclined to -leave the boundaries of vice and virtue vague and undefined.</p> - -<p class="normal">He therefore turned the matter off with a jest, and as their breakfast -concluded, demanded--"Well, Morley, what shall we do to-day?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"For my part," answered Morley, "I shall quit Paris this very day, but -I do not wish to influence your conduct, Lieberg, as you many have -affairs to keep you here somewhat longer. I wish to be away from the -place, and will wait for you anywhere that you like, till you rejoin -me."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg's eyes flashed with an angry expression for a moment, when -Morley talked of leaving the French capital so suddenly; but the -latter part of his companion's speech cleared his brow again, and he -replied--"Nay, nay, I will go with you. I have nothing to do here, -unless it were to take leave of some of the fair girls we know; but as -you are in such haste, we will do without even that. Doubtless, as the -poet says--</p> -<div style="margin-left:10%; font-size:10pt"> -<pre> - 'Fresh freres will clear the bright blue eyes - We late left swimming o'er.'" -</pre> -</div> -<p class="normal">All the arrangements were soon made, passports were signed, bills were -paid, accounts were closed, horses were procured, and, ere night, -Morley Ernstein and his companion were some miles on their way towards -the banks of the Rhine.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was rather late in the year for the German watering places, and -about one half of the company which, during the summer, had thronged -the picturesque villages of Nassau and Baden had taken its flight -towards greater cities. A number still remained, however, to linger -out the last fortnight of the season, and roulette and rouge-et-noire, -and certain select gambling parties, went on with only the greater -vigour from the want of that excitement which the more extended -society of the full season brought with it. It is just at that time of -year that the arrival of strangers--especially if they come with some -little display of importance--creates the greatest sensation, and it -may be easily believed that the two handsome English carriages, the -servants and the couriers which accompanied Morley and his companion, -made many a head protrude itself from the windows, and many an idler -gather round the vehicles. The appearance of those within them did not -diminish the interest felt, and some questions were asked of the -servants as to the names of the two gentlemen, which soon circulated -amongst the inhabitants of the place. The dinner at the table-d'hôte -passed off pleasantly; Lieberg meeting with several persons whom he -knew, and Morley being placed next to a most respectable looking old -German Baroness, with her white hair beautifully arranged round her -fair though wrinkled face. Notwithstanding the melancholy which still -hung heavily upon Morley Ernstein, the frank and ladylike manner of -his fair neighbour at the board, soon seduced him into conversation, -which the society of the young and the beautiful, perhaps, might have -not been able to effect.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the evening, he strolled with Lieberg into the great hall where the -company had assembled, intending but to gaze for a moment at the -splendour which such a place generally displays, and then to wander -out into the walks round about which had been cut with careful taste -to give every attraction to the little town. Very different indeed was -the scene presented from that which he had often witnessed before in a -Parisian gaming-house. Roulette and rouge-et-noire, were, it is true, -going on in one part of the vast hall, and card-tables were to be seen -laid out in another; but besides the parties occupied with such -dangerous pursuits, there were various gay and glittering groups -moving here and there, or seated at various tables taking different -kinds of refreshment. A band was playing in the open space before the -manifold windows of the building, the night was clear and warm, for -the time of year, and everything that heart could do had been done to -render the scene splendid, and to banish thought by forcibly engaging -the mind with a whole host of amusements.</p> - -<p class="normal">Again Lieberg, as they moved onward, met with many acquaintances--some -of them foreigners, some of them Englishmen. Indeed, in every place, -and amongst every nation, he seemed to have friends, and he took care -to introduce his young companion to all the most distinguished -personages present; princes, and counts, and barons without number, -and more than one noble lord whom Morley had often heard of as men of -high repute, but had never met with before.</p> - -<p class="normal">Not anxious for much society, Morley Ernstein, at length, disengaged -himself from Lieberg, telling him that he was about to stroll out -through the walks; but the moment after he was stopped by a -fine-looking elderly man, of a fresh and pleasing, though somewhat -melancholy countenance, who held out his hand to him as an old -acquaintance. After a moment's thought, Morley recollected the old -nobleman whom he had met in London, and to whom he had been introduced -at the house of Mr. Hamilton. Well pleased at what he remembered of -their conversation on those occasions, he returned his greeting -warmly, and willingly sat down beside him for a few moments in one of -the windows.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I hope you are not in search of health, Sir Morley," said Lord -Clavering. "You do not look so well as when I met you in London."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no!" answered Morley; "my health is good; but I am seeking what -most people seek, after they have found the uselessness of seeking -happiness--I mean amusement. But I trust your lordship is not less -fortunate in point of health, though I am afraid, from your asking me, -that you yourself have been driven to these baths by some of the -unpleasant ills of the flesh."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not exactly so," replied the old nobleman, "though I always think -that mineral waters are medicines with which nature herself furnishes -us for almost all diseases, if we do but apply them rightly. It is now -many years ago since I myself received great benefit from these -waters. I had just suffered a deep and terrible affliction which, -through the mind, had preyed upon my constitution, and no one expected -that I should ever recover. I was then a younger son, seeing life, as -it is called, in the Austrian service. I accordingly threw up my -commission, and was returning home to die in England, little cared -for by anybody, and, to say the truth, caring little for anybody -myself--except, indeed, one who has also been snatched from me since, -by the inexplicable decrees of God. I paused, however, at this very -place; and though at that time I thought life a very valueless -possession, and was prepared, like Cawdor, 'To throw away the dearest -thing I owed, as 'twere a careless trifle,' I remained here for six -weeks, and by so doing recovered health and life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And have you never had to curse the waters since?" asked Morley, -gloomily, "and to wish that you had not tasted them?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, my young friend," replied the old lord; "though I thought at that -time, as you seem to think now; yet I have since had to bless them for -affording me time to judge better of many things, and to learn -submission to the will of the Almighty--nay more, for having left me -to the enjoyment of many blessings, the calm sunshine of health and -ease, and that degree of freshness of heart--notwithstanding some -bitter sorrows and deep disappointments--which enables me still to -feel many endearing affections, partaking, perhaps, less of the eager -passions which are the portion of youth, but more of the permanent -convictions of experience. I can now love worth," he continued, with a -smile, "better than beauty, and seek in the companion of my later -hours the friend rather than the mistress."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have been wrong, my lord," said Morley, "and gave way to a -bitterness of spirit which I do not wish in general to indulge----"</p> - -<p class="normal">At that moment Lieberg came up hastily, and spoke to his young -companion in a low voice, saying--"Will you do me a favour, Morley? I -know you hate play of all kinds, but I know also you do not care about -losing a crown or two. The old Baroness Von L----, next whom you sat -at dinner, is very anxious for a quotidian game of whist. She has -pressed me into the service, and there is the old Prince of -Naggerstein, but we cannot get a fourth, all we can do. Come, only sit -down for one rubber. I hate that dull drivelling game as much as -anybody, but I could not well refuse."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley rose and walked slowly to the table, feeling that it was -utterly impossible he could take the slightest interest in any one of -all the gambler's pursuits. In his eyes, rouge-et-noir was as stupid -as whist, and whist as stupid as draughts. Of all the games that were -ever invented, if he had been forced to choose one, it would probably -have been marbles. He sat down to play, however: the old lady was -charmed with his politeness; the Prince of Naggerstein was courtesy -itself. Morley soon found that the stakes were enormously high, and -that the two old opponents of Lieberg and himself were a couple of -thorough-paced gamblers. Lieberg seemed to discover the fact at the -same moment, and gave a warning look across the table towards Morley. -He himself played well and carefully, but during the first rubber the -young Englishman could not bend his attention sufficiently on the -game, made several mistakes, and the two companions were losers of a -very considerable sum.</p> - -<p class="normal">"For Heaven's sake, Morley, be careful!" said Lieberg. "You have lost -me five hundred louis by not playing up to my lead. We must have our -revenge, however, for it is impossible to rise with such a loss as -that. I understand the old lady's game now; only be careful, and we -shall recover."</p> - -<p class="normal">In the evening, he strolled with Lieberg into the great hall where the -company had assembled, intending but to gaze for a moment at the -splendour which such a place generally displays, and then to wander -out into the walks round about, which had been cut with careful taste -to give every attraction to the little town. Very different indeed was -the scene presented from that which he had often witnessed before in a -Parisian gaming-house. Roulette and rouge-et-noir, were, it is true, -going on in one part of the vast hall, and card-tables were to be seen -laid out in another; but besides the parties occupied with such -dangerous pursuits, there were various gay and glittering groups -moving here and there, or seated at various tables taking different -kinds of refreshment. A band was playing in the open space before the -manifold windows of the building, the night was clear and warm, for -the time of year, and everything that heart could do had been done to -render the scene splendid, and to banish thought by forcibly engaging -the mind with a whole host of amusements.</p> - -<p class="normal">Again Lieberg, as they moved onward, met with many acquaintances--some -of them foreigners, some of them Englishmen. Indeed, in every place, -and amongst every nation, he seemed to have friends, and he took care -to introduce his young companion to all the most distinguished -personages present; princes, and counts, and barons without number, -and more than one noble lord whom Morley had often heard of as men of -high repute, but had never met with before.</p> - -<p class="normal">Not anxious for much society, Morley Ernstein, at length, disengaged -himself from Lieberg, telling him that he was about to stroll out -through the walks; but the moment after he was stopped by a -fine-looking elderly man, of a fresh and pleasing, though somewhat -melancholy countenance, who held out his hand to him as an old -acquaintance. After a moment's thought, Morley recollected the old -nobleman whom he had met in London, and to whom he had been introduced -at the house of Mr. Hamilton. Well pleased at what he remembered of -their conversation on those occasions, he returned his greeting -warmly, and willingly sat down beside him for a few moments in one of -the windows.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I hope you are not in search of health, Sir Morley," said Lord -Clavering. "You do not look so well as when I met you in London."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no!" answered Morley; "my health is good; but I am seeking what -most people seek, after they have found the uselessness of seeking -happiness--I mean amusement. But I trust your lordship is not less -fortunate in point of health, though I am afraid, from your asking me, -that you yourself have been driven to these baths by some of the -unpleasant ills of the flesh."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not exactly so," replied the old nobleman, "though I always think -that mineral waters are medicines with which nature herself furnishes -us for almost all diseases, if we do but apply them rightly. It is now -many years ago since I myself received great benefit from these -waters. I had just suffered a deep and terrible affliction which, -through the mind, had preyed upon my constitution, and no one expected -that I should ever recover. I was then a younger son, seeing life, as -it is called, in the Austrian service. I accordingly threw up my -commission, and was returning home to die in England, little cared for -by anybody, and, to say the truth, caring little for anybody myself? -except, indeed, one who has also been snatched from me since, by the -inexplicable decrees of God. I paused, however, at this very place; -and though at that time I thought life a very valueless possession, -and was prepared, like Cawdor, 'To throw away the dearest thing I -owed, as 'twere a careless trifle,' I remained here for six weeks, and -by so doing recovered health and life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And have you never had to curse the waters since?" asked Morley, -gloomily, "and to wish that you had not tasted them?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, my young friend," replied the old lord; "though I thought at -that time, as you seem to think now; yet I have since had to bless -them for affording me time to judge better of many things, and to -learn submission to the will of the Almighty--nay more, for having left -me to the enjoyment of many blessings, the calm sunshine of health and -ease, and that degree of freshness of heart? notwithstanding some -bitter sorrows and deep disappointments? which enables me still to -feel many endearing affections, partaking, perhaps, less of the eager -passions which are the portion of youth, but more of the permanent -convictions of experience. I can now love worth," he continued, with a -smile, "better than beauty, and seek in the companion of my later -hours the friend rather than the mistress."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have been wrong, my lord," said Morley, "and gave way to a -bitterness of spirit which I do not wish in general to indulge----"</p> - -<p class="normal">At that moment Lieberg came up hastily, and spoke to his young -companion in a low voice, saying--"Will you do me a favour, Morley? I -know you hate play of all kinds, but I know also you do not care about -losing a crown or two. The old Baroness Von L----, next whom you sat -at dinner, is very anxious for a quotidian game of whist. She has -pressed me into the service, and there is the old Prince of -Naggerstein, but we cannot get a fourth, all we can do. Come, only -sit down for one rubber. I hate that dull drivelling game as much as -anybody, but I could not well refuse."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley rose and walked slowly to the table, feeling that it was -utterly impossible he could take the slightest interest in any one of -all the gambler's pursuits. In his eyes, rouge-et-noir was as stupid -as whist, and whist as stupid as draughts. Of all the games that were -ever invented, if he had been forced to choose one, it would probably -have been marbles. He sat down to play, however: the old lady was -charmed with his politeness; the Prince of Naggerstein was courtesy -itself. Morley soon found that the stakes were enormously high, and -that the two old opponents of Lieberg and himself were a couple of -thorough-paced gamblers. Lieberg seemed to discover the fact at the -same moment, and gave a warning look across the table towards Morley. -He himself played well and carefully, but during the first rubber the -young Englishman could not bend his attention sufficiently on the -game, made several mistakes, and the two companions were losers of a -very considerable sum.</p> - -<p class="normal">"For Heaven's sake, Morley, be careful?" said Lieberg. "You have lost -me five hundred louis by not playing up to my lead. We must have our -revenge, however, for it is impossible to rise with such a loss as -that. I understand the old lady's game now; only be careful, and we -shall recover."</p> - -<p class="normal">He spoke in English, which language the other two did not understand, -and Morley, vexed with himself, continued at the table. He did now -pay attention--nay, more, he became interested, eager. The dark bright -eyes of Lieberg were fixed upon him sharply from the other side of the -table, and Morley fancied that he read in them anxiety to see what he -was about to play. It was, on the contrary, only to mark how far the -gambling spirit of the place was getting a hold upon his mind. The -scheme had been well arranged, and it was so far successful, that Morley -felt that dangerous degree of excitement which he had never experienced -before, the first symptoms of the growing disease--of that fell and -terrible disease, which, when once it has taken full possession of any -human being, never leaves him till it has destroyed him--the immedicable -fever of the mind.</p> - -<p class="normal">Once he raised his eyes from the table, and saw Lord Clavering standing -opposite to him with a look of melancholy interest in his face. Morley -averted his glance, and went on eagerly with the game, the impetuosity -of his nature affecting him in this, as in all other pursuits, and -carrying him on with a vehemence which he wished to restrain without -being able. As his mind was clear and rapid, and his memory good, he -played well now that he paid attention; Lieberg also managed his game -with admirable skill, leading Morley on almost to the very last with the -expectation of winning.</p> - -<p class="normal">The end of the rubber was again approaching; Morley Ernstein had -played, the Prince of Naggerstein had just made a trick; the result of -the whole depended upon Lieberg's next card, and while he paused, as -if in thought, Morley again lifted his eyes. Lord Clavering was still -there, but another figure now stood beside him which made the young -Englishman turn, for a moment, as pale as death. The next instant the -blood rushed from his heart into his face and temples, he saw and -understood nothing more of what had passed at the card-table, except -that Lieberg had played, and that the game was lost.</p> - -<p class="normal">Rapidly paying what the other party had won, Morley turned away, saying, -in a determined tone, that he would play no more. Lieberg marked the -look, and said, in a low voice to himself, "The time will come!" But the -next instant, following Morley with his eyes, he saw him standing -beside one of the most lovely creatures he had ever beheld, with a -degree of agitation in the manner of both, which not even all the -crowd that was around them could repress. The lady was dressed in deep -mourning, but Lieberg had no difficulty in recognising the same fair -being whom he had once seen with Morley in the park, and with Lady -Malcolm upon another occasion.</p> - -<p class="normal">What were the sensations of Morley, as he stood beside Juliet Carr, -and, with a low voice and beating heart, enquired into what had passed -since he left her! Juliet was not less agitated than himself. It was -evident that she was glad, not sorry to see him, though melancholy -mingled with her joy, and she left the soft, fair, trembling hand in -his as long as he thought fit to detain it. She told him that the -cause of the mourning which he beheld was the death of her father, and -those tidings, it must be owned, produced but one sensation in -Morley's heart. He had respect for Juliet's grief, however, and for a -moment or two bent down his eyes for fear glad hopes should sparkle up -in them, and jar with her natural sorrow. In the brief pause that took -place, Lord Clavering, who had stood by with Juliet's arm resting in -his, watching with no slight interest, apparently, the agitation of -his fair companion and her lover, disengaged himself from her, -saying--"I will see if the carriage is there, Juliet. Sir Morley, will -you take care of this lady till I return; I will not be long."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, Morley," said Juliet, the moment he was gone, "I have one great -favour to ask of you--a favour that will make me as happy as anything -can!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Name it, Juliet," replied Morley; "are you not sure that, to make you -happy I would sacrifice life itself?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Never sit down again to a table like that, Morley," said Juliet. "You -know not the agony of watching one that we love with a countenance -full of passions which only the dark spirits of this place can impart. -Promise me, Morley--promise me, if you have ever loved me. You cannot -tell what I have suffered within the last five minutes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do promise you, Juliet," replied Morley; "but you know not what I -have suffered during many weeks. I told you, Juliet, that I could not -answer for what occupations I might seek, in order to cast off the -misery which your loss inflicted on me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That which is wrong," replied Juliet, "depend upon it can but add -gall to the well of bitterness. Oh, Morley, for my sake--for Juliet's -sake--strive for better consolations. To know that you are happy, were -the only happiness that I could now possess; and I am sure that such a -heart as yours can never find anything but wretchedness in vice."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will trust," said Morley, "that the state of despair which might -well drive me to any source of relief is to last no longer. Where are -you to be found, Juliet? I will come early to-morrow; and you must -then give me up at least an hour--to myself and by myself, Juliet."</p> - -<p class="normal">She shook her head mournfully, but replied at once--"We are at the -place called the Towers. Come if you like, but it is all in vain. I -would fain be with you often, Morley--I would fain be with you always, -to advise--to counsel, to soothe you; but it must be as a sister. I -can never be more."</p> - -<p class="normal">"This must be explained," answered Morley; but at that moment Lord -Clavering again appeared, saying--"The carriage is here;" and at the -same time offering his hand to Juliet to lead her from the hall.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley, however, would not give up his post till the last minute, and -he himself conducted Juliet to the side of the carriage. He waited -with a heavy heart and frowning brow, till the old nobleman, taking -his seat by Juliet in the vehicle, ordered the coachman to drive to -"The Towers." Then, after pausing moodily for a moment or two before -the door of the building, he looked up into the sky, and, with a deep -and long-drawn sigh, turned into the paths that wound away, through -the woods, up towards the summit of the hills.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Night and meditation were friendly to Morley's spirit; he -wandered on, -rising higher and higher as he advanced, over the busy world of -emptiness, of folly and vice that he had just left in the great hall. -The fresh breeze of the mountain played around his head, and quieted -the feverish throbbing of his temples. He looked up to the Heavens, -and saw star beyond star, till the deep blue sky seemed, to his -intense gaze, to grow white with the multitude of brilliant orbs that -shone forth from the very bottom of the depth. Was it possible that he -could see that infinite immensity of worlds without thinking of God, -without wondering at the mightiness of his power, without asking -himself if his goodness or his strength could ever fail, and without -deriving thence powers of endurance--ay, and powers of resistance, -too--which no other philosophy could have afforded?</p> - -<p class="normal">The very sight of Juliet Carr, too--the very words that she had -uttered, though their import was sad, and though not a ray of hope -could be elicited from anything that she had said, woke the better -spirit in the bosom of her lover, and led his thoughts on to higher -and to holier things than those to which the earthly spirit would have -prompted him.</p> - -<p class="normal">He wandered on, thinking of endurance: for the first time since the -bitter disappointment that he had met with, the heavenly spirit in his -bosom seemed to have free sway, to clear away, as in days of yore, the -mists and shadows of earth from his eyes, to unveil the skeleton face -of earth's ordinary pleasures, and to show him the rankling corruption -of even the fairest forms of vice.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will endure," he thought, "firmly, strongly, resolutely. I will -endure with resignation, with submission, with the courage of a man, -with the humility of a Christian. Juliet shall not grieve to see me -plunge into those things which my own heart condemns. I will learn, -once for all, whether there be any real and substantial obstacle -between us; and if my life must be passed in sorrow and regret, I will -not add remorse also to the burden."</p> - -<p class="normal">He had now climbed high up the side of the hill, with nothing but the -stars above him, and turning his eyes from them down upon the town -below, he beheld the place where he had so lately sat, with the lights -glittering from the manifold windows, and the music sighing faintly up -to his distant ear. The sight and the sounds only filled him with -disgust; and it was with regret that, after remaining for some time -longer upon the hill, he took his way back again to the busy haunts of -men.</p> - -<p class="normal">On arriving at the inn, and entering the rooms which had been assigned -to himself and Lieberg, he found considerable confusion and disarray. -The cause was soon explained to him, for the moment after he appeared, -his companion issued forth from the left-hand room, saying, with an -eager look--"What say you, Morley, to a journey by night? I have just -received intelligence which obliges me to set off for Munich -immediately--every hour is of consequence. Will you come?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley thought of Juliet Carr, and replied, that he was sorry that he -could not go--that it was impossible. Lieberg pressed him much, and -seemed mortified that he would not consent; but his friend explained -to him that he had made an engagement for the following morning which -he could not break; and it was at length arranged that they should -meet at Augsburg or Munich, Morley adding, with a faint light from -hope still shining in his bosom--"If nothing should occur on either -part to prevent it."</p> - -<p class="normal">In less than half-an-hour the wheels of Lieberg's carriage rolled -away, and Morley, finding that it was hopeless to attempt to sleep, -sat up and read for some hours. How few books are there, amongst all -the many that come from the hand of man, on which the mind can rest -when the heart is sad! How often is even the very best of human -productions taken up and laid down, looked at and cast away, as the -sad thoughts wander round the one painful subject to which they are -fixed, like an animal tethered in a field to one particular point, -which he may turn round and round in every direction, but from which -he can never break away. Many a book will amuse the couch of pain, -will draw away the mind from corporeal uneasiness, but the anguish of -the heart has a property in our thoughts that cannot be dissolved; and -if any work can call us from that anguish, even for a moment, its -chief characteristic must be goodness. Wit, and fancy, and imagination -jar sadly with the tones of sorrow, but high and pure philosophies -come as a balm to the wounds of the spirit.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was over some of the smaller poems of Milton that Morley paused; -and though he could not go on very connectedly, yet there was a depth -and a freshness in the whole as invigorating as the waters of a clear, -cool river to the limbs of one who has wandered far through a hot day. -His spirit seemed to plunge into that well of pure poetry, and rose up -refreshed.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length he retired to rest, and though he slept not for some hours, -yet his thoughts were calm. He determined that he would go early on -the following morning to see Juliet Carr--that he would not wait for -any formal time of visiting, although he saw that she was travelling -with a party consisting of persons whom he believed to be nearly -strangers to him; and he lay and revolved all that he would say and -all that he would do, with the usual vain calculation of man, who -never till the end of life learns to know that the very next minute is -not his own. Thus passed the first four hours of the night, and then -came a short period of repose, broken with thought running into -dreams, and then came deep and profound slumber.</p> - -<p class="normal">It seldom, if ever, happens that we can obtain sleep when we most -require it, but the unbidden guest visits us at the times when we wish -him most away. Morley Ernstein slept longer than he intended, but, -nevertheless, it was not late when he woke; his watch pointed to a -quarter to eight, and, starting up, he rang eagerly for his servant, -intending to proceed upon his errand at about half-past nine. There -was a note in the hands of old Adam Gray as he entered, and, as may be -easily imagined, it was with some emotion that Morley opened it when -he saw the hand writing of Juliet Carr; but that emotion was greatly -increased when he read the contents.</p> - -<p class="normal">"We go early," she said; "and though I will never refuse to see you -when you think fit to come, I am inclined to believe that it would be -better you should not come to-day at all. I could say nothing, Morley, -to console you. All that I could tell you would, perhaps, but make you -the more unhappy. For me the dream of life is over, and I feel from -what passed last night, that it agitates us both too much at present -to meet frequently. I will not say 'too much for me,' because I resign -myself entirely to my fate--it is fixed and determined--I hope -nothing, I fear nothing, I expect nothing. There is only one thing -that I pray for in this life, to know that you are happy, and never, -by any chance, to have cause to think otherwise of you than I have -always hitherto done. Such is my fate, Morley, and such must be the -fate of every woman situated as I am; but with a man it is very -different. Suffer the memory of these days to fade away--I do not say -forget me, for that I think you will never do; but remember me only as -one that is dead. Form other ties, open your heart to other -attachments, and believe me, that I shall experience the only -consolation that I can receive in knowing that your affection for me, -and the bitter disappointment that we have both undergone, has not -permanently affected the happiness, or in any degree changed the -nature of the man I love."</p> - -<p class="normal">"When did this come?" exclaimed Morley, in a tone that made the old -man start.</p> - -<p class="normal">"About an hour ago, sir," replied Adam Gray. "I knocked at your door, -but you were sound asleep."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley cast down the paper, dressed himself as rapidly as possible, -and hurried out.</p> - -<p class="normal">There were two or three people lounging quietly at the door of the inn -called "The Towers," without any one of those signs and appearances -which indicate to the eye of the experienced traveller that a -departure is about to take place. There were no boxes in the passage, -nor leather cases, nor cloaks and shawls, nor portfolios and -drawing-books, the stray volume of a new romance, nor the couriers' -innumerable straps and buckles. There were two or three men with -whiskers, and one with mustachioes, and each bearing about him that -indescribable something which points out the travelling servant; but -they were all in a state of calm tranquillity; and Morley, by the -whole aspect of the place, became convinced he was not, as he had -feared, too late. He went into the house, then, and enquired of a -person whom he met, and whom, from certain signs and symptoms, albeit -as unlike an English innkeeper as possible, he took to be the master -of the hotel, where he should find Miss Carr?</p> - -<p class="normal">The man stared, and then replied, that there was no such person there. -Morley next asked for Lord Clavering, which name immediately brought -up a look of intelligence in the innkeeper's countenance; but the -answer that instantly followed, at once damped the young Englishman's -hopes.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, they are gone--they are gone!" replied the man. "They have been -gone three quarters of an hour."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who do you mean by they?" demanded Morley.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, the old 'milord', and the lady, and the beautiful young lady, -and all--maids and servants and couriers, and all," answered the host.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Are you sure they are the persons I mean?" said Morley with the last -faint hope struggling up.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will shew you their names in the book," rejoined the innkeeper; -and, taking him into a small room at the side of the passage, he -opened a huge book before him, and pointed to a long string of names, -half way down the page.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley read, but he soon saw enough, for there stood the words--"Lord -Clavering, Lady Malcolm, Juliet Carr." He turned away in, silence, -with his heart full of bitter thoughts, and, taking his way back to -the inn, he gave but one order--"Let everything be prepared for -departure."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you know, sir," said Adam Gray, after hesitating for a moment or -two--"do you know, sir, that Miss Juliet is here? I saw her maid this -morning, in the street, and I did fancy that note came from her--"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley waved his hand impatiently, and the old man stopped. "She is -gone," replied Morley Ernstein; "do as I told you, Adam."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Will you not take breakfast, sir?" demanded the old servant, with a -wistful look in his master's face.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no!" answered Morley, impatiently; and Adam Gray quitted the -room. He paused musing at the door, however, laying his finger upon -his bald forehead, and muttering to himself--</p> - -<p class="normal">"If I was sure it was she who is making him miserable--I would--that I -would! But she never seemed to have any pride in her. What right had -she, indeed? But I can't think it's her doing; she was always a good, -kind young lady, as ever lived, and I am sure I thought she was fond -enough of Master Morley, as well she might be. She wont find such -another match in a hurry. But I'll watch, and see; she may be playing -the fool after all, for there's no knowing about women--they are so -devilish uncertain."</p> - -<p class="normal">With this moral reflection old Adam Gray concluded his soliloquy, and -went to give the orders with which his master had entrusted him, in -regard to preparing for departure. Ere noon all was ready, and Morley, -alone in his carriage, with his arms folded on his chest, his brow -bent, and his hat pressed over his forehead, drove out of the little -town, while many a foreign idler of the baths stood gazing at him, -sneering at the gloomy aspect that they did not comprehend, and -pointing him out as the true personification of English spleen.</p> - -<p class="normal">Buried in the depth of his own thoughts, Morley cared little what -comments were made upon his appearance. The brief glimpse he had had -of Juliet Carr, the momentary revival of hope, had but plunged him -into deeper gloom now that it was gone, and for a time all the better -feelings which reflection had produced passed away, and left him as -bitter in spirit as ever. There was one strong, predominant -determination, however, in his mind, which was, to seek another -meeting with Juliet wherever she had gone; to induce her to give him -reasons for her conduct; to make her speak plainly why she debarred -him and herself of hope, why, if she loved him, as she did not deny -that she did, she made him miserable now that her father's death had -removed his opposition to their union.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such were the feelings with which he went on through the wild valleys -and deep ravines that led him back to the banks of the Rhine. This is -not the journal of a tourist, reader! but still I must pause, to say a -word or two upon the scenes through which Morley Ernstein now passed, -because those scenes were not without effect upon his mind. At first -the impression was imperceptible, but gradually it became more and -more strong, operating like some fine restorative balm, and producing -a slow but salutary effect, as he journeyed on. It is not through the -ear alone, nor by the written words addressed to the eye, neither by -the tale, nor the fable, nor the moral, that man's heart may receive -instruction, if he will but take it. There is not--I say again--there -is not a sight, there is not a sound, from the flower in the valley to -the cloud-covered peak of the mountain--from the song of the lark to -the thunder of the storm, which does not speak to the heart of man -sweet counsel, and wisdom without end; sinking softly, calmly, almost -imperceptibly, into the mind.</p> - -<p class="normal">The mere aspect of nature's ever-varying face must, if we will let it, -tranquillize the passions, harmonize all the jarring affections of our -nature, and with a solemn, and a soothing voice, proclaim to us the -love, and the wisdom of Him--</p> - - -<p class="center" style="font-size:10pt">"Who shapes our fate, rough-hew it how we will."</p> - - -<p class="normal">Such also was the effect upon Morley Ernstein, as he journeyed onward, -though it was produced very slowly. When he first raised his eyes, the -mouth of the valley through which his course had been directed was -just opening out upon the Rhine. High on either side rose grey ruins, -pinnacled upon the ancient mountain-tops, all that remained of the -feudal domination of the past; dark, and solemn, and sad, each itself -a legend, appealing more strongly to the imagination than any of those -with which tradition had ornamented the walls. Fancy might there range -at liberty, might people the deserted halls with life, might see fair -faces gazing from the casementless windows, might cover the winding -roads with the bands of horsemen, and might see the plundered -merchants, or the train of captives, borne up to the hold of the -lordly robbers who reigned in the towers above. The ruined church -called fancy to other creations--the bridal song, and gay procession, -the joyful birth of the young heir, the dark funeral of the departed -lord, and all the manifold acts to which the ceremonies of religion -lend their aid.</p> - -<p class="normal">It is true, the imagination of Morley Ernstein, occupied with one sad -subject, was not disposed to tear his mind away from the present; but, -still, as the eye rested upon this object or upon that, his thoughts -would stray for a moment to the scenes of the dim past; or, leaving -his own fate for an instant, would find a temporary occupation in that -of others. The merry vintage was going on; and on every bank, and on -every hill, thousands and thousands of the peasantry, rejoicing in the -reward of honest industry, poured forth their songs as he passed by. -While he gazed around, perhaps, he pictured to himself the return home -of the labourers he saw, the embrace of affection, the soft domestic -love, and all the household joys that were never to be his; but still -he was not so selfish that he could not bless God for the happiness of -others, though he himself could not partake of it. The better spirit, -reader, gained the ascendancy, and in deep and pensive thought, calm -though sad, he went upon his way.</p> - -<p class="normal">All those who have travelled along the banks of the Rhine--and few -there are who have not done so, now-a-days--know well, that though, -perhaps, the Rhone presents more picturesque beauties, there is -scarcely any spot on earth where, to loveliness of scenery, are joined -so many thrilling memories, and such a wide extent of associations. -Well might it be called the Storied Rhine; for there is not one step -along its banks which has not its history; and from the ages of the -Roman domination, down to the "Now," when the stranger stands beside -it, there is scarcely a year in the wide course of time, which has not -marked the Rhine by some great event. He, indeed, must have become -dead to life, or never have been alive to half the wonderful things -that life presents, who can wander by the side of that mighty river, -without giving himself up to dreams of the past--ay, and perchance of -the future.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein was neither; and though the tone of his own feelings, -of course, gave a colouring to all his thoughts, yet his meditations -on the things around him soon became deep and long, and in those -meditations he himself found relief.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus passed the next four days, but, as he went from inn to inn, he -perseveringly strove to trace the road that Juliet Carr had taken. -Once only, however, he met with the name of Lord Clavering, with the -words, "and party," attached to it; and he knew not why, but a painful -feeling that Juliet Carr should be included in the party of another -passed across his mind. He strove to banish it instantly; he asked -himself, with a sort of scornful smile, if he were jealous of Lord -Clavering; but still the idea continued painful; and now, convinced -that Juliet had taken the same road which he was following, he simply -pointed out the name of the party to his courier, and directed him to -search for it in the inn-books, and let him know when he found it -again.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLVI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">When the fall of Napoleon Buonaparte had opened the gates of -Europe to -the little body of islanders who had been knocking at them for so many -years in vain, the first that rushed in to see all the wonders of the -great continental fair, were, of course, the great and the wealthy, -having every means at hand to satisfy to the full the expectant -innkeepers and postilions, who were well prepared to make the purses -of our good countrymen pay for the sights which and been so long -forbidden. But in the rear of these, only by a very short distance, -came a number of very respectable people of an inferior class, who -were firmly resolved to have their holiday also, and that it should be -spent on the Continent. The means of locomotion, indeed, were not so -plentiful then as now; no steam-boats bridged over the Straits of -Dover; no railroads saved one the trouble of seeing anything in Europe -without depriving one of the pleasant consciousness of making a tour. -People set out actually to travel in those times; and many a worthy -citizen of London contemplated the journey to Paris with as much wild -excitement, and strong sense of personal enterprise and merit in -braving danger, as did Le Valliant, or Bruce, or Cook, or any other -traveller of past days.</p> - -<p class="normal">To facilitate them in their undertaking, however, there was -established, at a house on the eastern side of the Haymarket, what may -be called a dépôt of <i>voituriers</i>, where a man was almost always to be -found or heard of, ready, for a specified sum, to carry any lady, -gentleman, or child, who might be locomotively disposed, from one part -of Europe to another. In truth, the manner of travelling was not at -all an unpleasant one, and being then in its first freshness, fewer -tricks were played upon the traveller, more conveniences provided for -him, and the rogues and vagabonds with which Europe is superabundantly -supplied, had not then fully discovered that the trade of <i>voiturier</i>< br> -was one which afforded them great facilities for the exercise of their -talent.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was one day, then, in the month of September, a short time after -various events had taken place, which have been related in this true -history, that a Swiss <i>voiturier</i>, ready, for any man's money, to go -to any part of the civilized world, was standing in the shop in -question, having left his horses and carriage in the good town of -Calais and come over to England, for the express purpose of seeing -what the English could be about, that nobody had hired him up to that -late period of the year. The master of the house expressed himself not -a little grieved that such was the case, but assured him that he had -not had one single application, and was in the very act of counselling -him to go back to Switzerland empty, when a tall, powerful, and -good-looking man, dressed in black, and with a very pretty and -lady-like young woman leaning upon his arm, entered the shop, and made -some enquiries, which instantly caused the Swiss to raise his ears, -and listen with great attention.</p> - -<p class="normal">His knowledge of the English language was certainly very limited, but -at the same time he understood the meaning of the word carriage, and -was well aware that the word Naples, though somewhat different from -the Italian name of the place, was applied by us Englishmen to the -City of the Syren. Be soon found, then, that the gentleman was -bargaining to be carried, lodged, and boarded by the way, from the -town of Calais to that of Naples. He, moreover, understood, that two -ladies and a child were to be of the party, so that four places, out -of the six which his vehicle afforded, might be speedily secured. He -perceived, likewise, that the gentleman made his bargain shrewdly and -strictly--in fact, as a man accustomed to deal with a world which has -rogues in it; and as he thought he saw an inclination on the part of -the master of the shop to risk losing a customer by demanding too -much, he hastened to join in to the best of his abilities, and make -his bargain for himself. His next discovery was, that the gentleman in -black could not speak a word of any language but his own; and that the -lady who was with him could only converse in French of a certain sort; -but after about three-quarters of an hour's discussion, the whole -matter was arranged satisfactorily, and the Swiss set off again for -Calais, to prepare for a journey to Naples, to which city he was to -convey the party of travellers, upon terms set down in a written -agreement.</p> - -<p class="normal">When all had been settled, the two future travellers took their way -through the streets of London to one of the small houses, which, -placed in the neighbourhood of the more fashionable parts of the town, -afford to the younger and poorer branches of distinguished families -many a convenient residence at no great expense.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No. 15, did you not say, Jane?" said the gentleman, addressing the -lady on his arm. "It seems a wonderfully nice house; I wonder how that -is kept up."</p> - -<p class="normal">Knocking as he spoke, he asked the servant who appeared--a man in -mourning livery--if Miss Barham were at home. But even while he was -putting the question, the door of what seemed a dining-room opened, -and a distinguished looking elderly man, apparently not in the best -health, came out, saying, to some persons within--"Well, gentlemen, -all I can say is, that he shall hear the whole particulars. You have -dealt candidly with me, in shewing me the deeds, and, without giving -an opinion on the case, I will promise you to communicate the whole -facts fairly."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he came forth the door was closed, and the servant who was in the -passage drew back to give him egress.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is Mr. Hamilton, the famous banker," observed the gentleman in -black, in a whisper, to his fair companion--"a very good man, they -say."</p> - -<p class="normal">At the same moment the servant replied, that Miss Barham was at home, -and ushered the two up to the drawing-room, while a great deal of loud -talking, with evident haste and eagerness, was heard from the chamber -which they passed on the right.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What name shall I give, sir?" demanded the servant at the -drawing-room door.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Martin," replied the stranger; and the moment after Mr. and Mrs. -Martin were announced, in a loud tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">In an elegant, though somewhat small drawing-room, with everything -which could contribute to comfort and convenience around her, sat -Helen Barham, not less beautiful than ever, though with a deep shade -of melancholy hanging upon her fair brow, and a colour, almost too -delicately lovely, in her cheek. She raised her eyes as the man threw -open the door, and then started up with a look almost of alarm, -paused, and hesitated till the servant was gone, and then, with one of -her radiant smiles, chasing away the cloud, like the sun at noon, she -pointed to a chair, saying--"I am glad to see you--pray sit down. I -know not what startled me, but the name brought back painful -memories."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not wonder at it, ma'am," answered Harry Martin--"though, after -all, I think, if I were you, it would bring up the proudest and -happiest memories that could come into my heart. Memories of having -done, Miss Barham, what there are not two people in all Europe would -do--ay, not only of having saved a fellow-creature from death, but of -having saved him from perhaps worse destructions. I have come to thank -you, ma'am--and my poor wife, too; and the first name we shall teach -our baby to pray for is yours--isn't it, Jane?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Jane Martin went round the table, and dropping upon her knees beside -Helen Barham, kissed her hand, and bathed it with tears.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no, no!" cried Helen, trying to raise her. "Pray do not do -so!--you agitate--you distress me. I did but keep the promise I had -made."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, ma'am, and nobly," replied Harry Martin; "give me those that <i>do</i>< br> -keep their word in this world of promise-breakers. But Jane has got -something to tell you, she will say it better than I can, for such -words are so new in my mouth that they come rather awkwardly."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen turned an inquiring look towards Jane Martin, who had now risen, -and was standing by her side, wiping away the tears that the sweet -feelings of gratitude had drawn forth. "He means me to tell you, -madam," said the latter, "something that I am sure, if I judge you -rightly, will repay you for all you did, and all you suffered on that -terrible day at York. He has determined, madam, more out of gratitude -to you and one other, who has befriended us, too, in our time of need, -to change his way of life altogether. We are going to a far country, -ma'am, as far from England as we can get, without going out of Europe; -I mean to Naples, where I had once an uncle, who is, I believe, living -still. There we may do honestly and industriously, and, if possible, -in time, will pay back everything that is not rightly ours."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, do so!--do so!" cried Helen, gladly; "the blessing which that -very thought will give you, will be worth any other kind of -happiness."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I begin to think so too, Miss Barham," replied Harry Martin; "and one -thing more I will say, which is, that I know what will make me the -happiest man alive."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is that?" said Helen; "I am sure if it be possible for me to -help you I will. I cannot forget that, besides sparing my life when -many other people would have taken it, you aided to deliver my brother -from the power of those who would have most basely used the means of -injuring him which they possessed. Tell me what it is; I am far more -capable of doing something to show my gratitude now, than I have ever -been before, and if money--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no!" exclaimed Harry Martin, "it is not money that I want, Miss -Barham! All I wish for is an opportunity of serving you. But do you -know, Miss Barham," he added, after a moment's pause, "I am almost -sorry to hear you have money to spare."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why so?" said Helen, in some surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, I don't know well how to tell you what I mean," replied Harry -Martin; "but it's this, you see, Miss Barham from what I know, I don't -see how you or your brother can have much money to spare, if he gets -it in a way that may not some time or another bring you into a worse -scrape than the last."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen Barham's habit of blushing had not been lost, even in all the -painful scenes she had lately gone through, and the blood came warm -into her cheek at the man's words, though she knew that they were not -intended to offend or pain her. There was something in them, however, -which caused her mind instantly to refer to her late position--to the -position of danger and temptation in which she had been placed when -first she was presented to the reader's eyes--and the very thought -made the true modesty of her young and candid heart shrink as if from -contamination.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are mistaken, in this instance," she said, mildly; "a great -change has taken place in our situation. I cannot tell you all the -particulars, for I do not know them; and, indeed, I believe on some -account I have been purposely kept in the dark--but it has been -discovered that a large property rightly belonging to my brother has -been kept from him. It was old Mr. Carr who first told me of the -facts; since then, the matter has been referred to several London -lawyers, who are so perfectly convinced the property cannot be -withheld any longer, that the solicitor is quite willing to advance my -brother any money that he needs--more so, indeed, than I could -wish--for William is yet too young to use it rightly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He'll never be old enough," replied Harry Martin; "but, however, -whatever is for your good is a blessing; and, I trust, notwithstanding, -though God may give you, young lady, the fortune you well deserve, I -shall some day be able to show you my gratitude. I wont ask to see your -brother, Miss Barham, for the meeting would not be very pleasant to him -or to me, but I can tell him one thing, if he would have health or -happiness either, he must live a very different life from that which he -was following when I knew him. Why, we ourselves, who did not stick at -a trifle, as you may well suppose, used to get sick of his way of -going on."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen Barham cast down her eyes, and for a moment or two made no -reply. It was painful enough for her to think that her brother should -ever have been the companion of the man who stood before her; but to -bear that even the profligates, the lawless, and the reckless, were -outdone by the son of her own mother, was terrible indeed. Her -silence, however, arose from other sensations, likewise produced in -her bosom by the words of Harry Martin. The stores of the past, the -things that have been--ay, and the things that are--are often garnered -up in our hearts like the inflammable substances of a magazine, -apparently cold and lifeless, but requiring only a spark to blaze -forth. That spark is frequently a mere accidental word; a look, a tone -will sometimes communicate the flame. There had been a deep anxiety -preying upon Helen Barham for some weeks, a new anxiety, a fresh -grief, which mingled with all the others painful feelings in her -bosom, and produced a sort of dread, which cast an additional gloom -over every prospect. She had remarked in her brother a bright red spot -in the pale cheek, increasing towards nightfall, an eye full of -unnatural lustre, a hurried and fluttering respiration, a slight but -frequent cough--all of which she had seen once before in another, a -few months previous to the time when the turf was laid upon her -mother's head. She had questioned him eagerly and often; she had -endeavoured to prevent him from committing excess in various ways, but -he had always insisted that he was quite well, and any attempt to -restrain his inclinations seemed but to irritate him, and to drive him -to wild extremes. Lately she had tried hard, and successfully, to shut -out his state of health from her mind: she had kept the truth at a -distance; but the words of Harry Martin not only opened her eyes, and -showed her that her brother was hurrying on towards death, but that it -was his own deed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear," she said, in reply--"I fear that his health has suffered -very much! Indeed, he is anything but well; and I trust, when all this -business is settled, to induce him to try a better climate."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Induce him, Miss Barham," said Harry Martin--"induce him--"</p> - -<p class="normal">He was going to add--"to try a better life," but he gazed in the fair -face of Helen Barham, saw the deep melancholy that overspread it, and -felt afraid that he might add one drop more of bitter to the lot of -her, who, born with every endowment of person and mind which the -prodigal hand of nature could bestow upon a favourite child, had been -placed in circumstances where beauty was peril, where excellence was -trial, and where tenderness was anguish. He would not add another -word, but paused in the midst of what he was saying, and then turned -abruptly to his wife, exclaiming--"Come, Jane, let us go, we are only -keeping Miss Barham. God bless you, madam, and protect you. May you -find kind friends wherever you go, and may every one be as honest to -you as you have been to me. God bless you, I say, and make you happy, -and give me some opportunity of helping you when you need it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus speaking, he turned away and left the room, followed by his wife; -and Helen, bidding them adieu, resumed her occupations.</p> - -<p class="normal">They had not been long gone, however, when her brother came in, with -his face flushed and excited, and a look of triumph in his -countenance. "I have him," he said--"I'll do for him, Helen! We have -got hold of the only admission that was wanting. I'll make a beggar of -him before I have done with him!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I hope not, William," answered Helen, reproachfully. "I hope you will -make a beggar of no one upon the earth. You, of all people, William, -ought to know how terrible a thing it is to be a beggar. But who is it -you are talking of?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay! that I sha'n't tell you, Helen," replied William Barham, with a -laugh. "I know you'd be for interfering, and that wouldn't do. The -business is my own, and I'll manage it myself. You shall know nothing -about it till it's all done; and who can tell if the matter may not be -more for your advantage than you think?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, William," rejoined Helen, with a sigh, "as I said to you -yesterday, if you do not tell me more, tell me nothing. But listen to -what I have to say to you. The man, Harry Martin, who was tried at -York, has been here to thank me. You know very well that he took, and -destroyed, those papers which were so dangerous to you. Now, I think, -as you say you have money to spare, you ought to send him some -immediately."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not I," cried William Barham, though his face for a moment had become -very pale. "You say he destroyed the papers. He can't do anything -against me, then--I shall send him no money. You were a fool for not -letting him be hanged," and he turned sullenly from her, and left the -room.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen Barham leaned her head upon her hand, pressed her handkerchief -upon her eyes, and wept bitterly.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLVII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">THE night was dark and tempestuous, the rain beat violently -against -the windows of the carriage, the wind blew so vehemently as to shake -it upon the springs, and the hollow moanings of the gale, as it swept -down the valley of Treisam, sounded like the screams of souls in -torture. Once or twice, but once or twice only, the features of the -scene around were displayed for an instant by a sudden flash of -lightning, and rock, and chasm, and rushing stream, swelled into a -torrent by the deluge that was pouring down, started out from the -darkness and instantly disappeared again. The effect was fine, but -awful; and for the sake of postilions and servants, Morley Ernstein -would have willingly turned back, but that the storm did not commence -till Freiburg was left far behind, and had not reached its height till -the carriage was nearly half way through the pass, known by the gloomy -name of the Valley of Hell. To go on, then, was a matter of necessity, -and Morley contented himself with calling old Adam Gray into the -inside of the carriage, to shelter his white hair from the storm of -night. The journey, indeed, was not without danger, for the pit of -Acheron was certainly never darker than the Höllen-Thal, in the -intervals of the lightning; and the windings of the road, amongst -rocks and streams, are conducted with a greater regard to brevity than -to the traveller's neck.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is a dreadful night, indeed, sir," said good old Adam Gray, with a -shudder, "and it seems to be a terribly wild country. Why, the -carriage can scarcely get on, and I believe will be broken in pieces -before we get to the end of the stage."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no!" replied Morley; "it is too well built for that, Adam; and -the darkness makes you think every jolt worse than it is. Through this -very valley General Moreau made his famous retreat, bringing with him -his baggage and artillery, so it is impossible that it can be so very -bad."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It's bad enough, sir, any way!" exclaimed Adam Gray, as the carriage -passed over an immense stone, producing a jolt that nearly knocked the -heads of the travellers against the top of the vehicle. "I would -almost sooner be a cannon than a Christian to go through here--at -least in this dark night!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I certainly should have waited till to-morrow," replied Morley, "if I -had known we should have such a storm, but now it is not to be helped, -and the stage, I believe, is not a very long one. We must sleep where -we can for to-night, as there is no use of attempting to go on to -Schaffhausen."</p> - -<p class="normal">The way, however, seemed to Adam Gray interminably long, for the -German drivers, with very proper caution, proceeded at a rate -certainly somewhat slower than that with which an English -broad-wheeled waggon wends its way along the drawing-room roads of our -own favoured land. At the end of about an hour the storm decreased, -the sharp gusts of wind ceased almost entirely, the lightning no -longer illuminated the valley from time to time with its fierce glare, -and the rain itself subsided into a thin and drizzling mist, through -which the lamps of the carriage poured a red and confused light, -occasionally catching upon some wild rock, or bringing forth from the -darkness the large boll of some old tree, but generally showing -nothing but the dim expanse of vapour which wrapped the harsh features -of the valley in a foggy shroud.</p> - -<p class="normal">How long they had thus gone on through that tempestuous night, Morley -Ernstein did not know, but he judged by guess that the next post-house -could not be far off, when the sound of what seemed a distant call met -his ear, and, turning to old Adam Gray, he said--"Well, Adam, your -rough journey will soon be over; we must be coming near Steig, for I -hear voices, and some persons shouting."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps some one has got hurt in this terrible night," replied Adam -Gray. "God send us well out of this horrid place!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein listened eagerly, for the old man's words brought -suddenly into his mind the very probable case of some accident having -happened in such a storm and such a scene; and, letting down the -window, he put his head out, gazing round to see if he could descry -anything, but in vain.</p> - -<p class="normal">A moment or two after, however, a loud shout from the right, and at no -great distance, showed that the lamps of the carriage, though of no -great service either to the travellers or the postilions attached to -it, had sent their glare far enough into the gloom of the valley to -reach the eyes of some person in distress. The shout was repeated -again and again, and Morley thought that he distinguished an English -tone and English words, though let it be remembered that such sounds -may very well be heard in Germany, without the speakers being -Englishmen or knowing one syllable of our native tongue. This Morley -recollected, but, nevertheless, he was just as anxious to give -assistance as if he had been quite sure that the persons calling for -aid were his fellow-countrymen.</p> - -<p class="normal">The postilions, although they must have heard the cry fully as well as -those within the carriage, did not seem in the slightest degree -disposed to stop, but went on with the same indifferent jog-trot, -which probably they would have continued if the father of each of them -had been drowning in the stream below. Three times did Morley himself -call to them before they condescended to pay any attention. They at -length brought up, however, and quietly asked what was the matter. -Without waiting to inform them, but bidding the servants get down to -aid him, Morley sprang out of the vehicle, drew one of the lanterns -with his own hands from the socket, and called aloud, in very good -German, to ascertain where were the personages who had been so -vociferously appealing for help.</p> - -<p class="normal">The reply left him no doubt as to its being an Englishman who now -spoke, for the very first sentence was adorned with one of those oaths -which unhappily are but too often in the mouths of our countrymen. -"Holloa hoy!" cried the voice. "D--n you, if you don't make haste you -will be too late! This way, I say--this way!"</p> - -<p class="normal">It was not without some difficulty, however, that any means were found -of reaching the spot from whence the voice proceeded. The bank was -steep and rugged, large masses of rock and stone obstructed the way, -and the darkness of the night, increased by the mist, prevented Morley -Ernstein and his servant from seeing more than a few yards even by the -aid of the lantern, which the young gentleman himself carried. All -this delayed them much, but still they advanced, guided by several -voices talking rapidly and eagerly together; and bad French and bad -English were to be heard spoken in sharp and sometimes angry tones, -between people who seemed to have a very great difficulty in making -themselves mutually understood.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, however, the exact place where all this was going on became -more distinct; and the forms of two men, two or three women, a child, -four horses, and an overturned coach, were seen against a back ground -of white spray and foam, occasioned by the stream--now swelled, as I -have before said, into a torrent, and dashing in angry fury amidst the -crags and rocky fragments which encumbered the valley. The men and -most of the women were all gathered closely round the carriage, and -seemed to be holding on thereby as if endeavouring to move it, while -one of the group was giving eager orders to another, in a somewhat -extraordinary compound of English and French, to attach the horses to -the overthrown vehicle in a particular manner, and endeavour to pull -it up; while the man to whom he spoke seemed to have taken the wise -resolution, in the first place, of not understanding him, and in the -next place, of not doing what he was told when he did.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was the state of things when Morley Ernstein approached within a -few yards of the carriage, and perceived that the vehicle, and -whatever it might contain, was certainly in a very dangerous position, -being balanced as nicely as can be conceived, upon the edge of a -second bank, and apparently only kept from falling over into the -stream by the weight of the persons who held it down. Such was the -first fact that presented itself to Morley's mind; but there was -another point which struck him nearly at the same time--namely, that -the figures of two, at least, out of the personages in the group, were -quite familiar to him; and the combination of the voice which he had -heard, with the appearance of the people now before him, instantly -brought to his recollection our old acquaintance Harry Martin, and his -wife. The latter, it would seem, instantly recognised the young -Baronet in the person who now came to their aid, for at the very -moment that Morley recognised her husband, she exclaimed--"Oh, how -fortunate! It is Sir Morley, Harry--it is Sir Morley Ernstein!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is luck, indeed!" cried Harry Martin. "We shall now have -somebody to help us."</p> - -<p class="normal">The matter was soon explained; the Swiss driver of the vehicle in -which Martin had engaged a certain number of places for himself and -his family, had, in the darkness of the night, mistaken a small -cart-road on the right, for the highway to Steig, had soon become -embarrassed amongst the rocks, and had ended by overturning the -carriage in the most dangerous part of the valley.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The worst part of the whole job, is," said Harry Martin, "that the -old woman is a good deal hurt, I am afraid; and we couldn't get her -out the carriage, as it lies there. I had nobody to help me but this -d--d fellow, and he will not help at all."</p> - -<p class="normal">With the aid of Morley and his servants, the vehicle was soon freed -from the dangerous situation in which it hung, and drawn back into the -bad cart-road from which it had strayed. The jolting, however, was so -terrible to poor old Mrs. More--who had, as her son-in-law declared, -received considerable injuries--that she now very willingly agreed to -do that which she had at first refused, and quit the rough and -ill-hung coach for Morley's more comfortable conveyance.</p> - -<p class="normal">Finding that the distance to the post-house was not more than an -English mile, the young Baronet determined to go the rest of the way -on foot, sending only one servant with his carriage, and giving the -places thus left vacant to the women, whom he had found in such a -deplorable situation in the valley. Harry Martin's wife and the little -boy took their seats beside old Mrs. More, in the inside. There was -room for another behind, but there were still two persons to be -provided for, both foreigners--one seeming the mistress, and the other -the maid. The lady, however, insisted that her attendant should go, -saying--"You are bruised, Marguerite, and I am not; I can walk very -well."</p> - -<p class="normal">The attendant needed no great pressing, but took her place at once, -and Morley Ernstein, offering his arm to her mistress, gave directions -to his courier to remain with the Swiss, in order to aid him in -getting his carriage safely back into the main road, and then -proceeded, with Harry Martin on his right hand, talking sometimes to -one of his companions, sometimes to the other. The lady spoke very -little English, but French she understood thoroughly, although her -accent betrayed the tones of a southern land; and, now that the danger -was over, she laughed with light-hearted gaiety at the misadventures -of the night, though a tone of sadness mingled every now and then with -her merriment, when she mentioned the situation of the poor old lady, -Mrs. More. The impression produced by her conversation upon the mind -of Morley Ernstein was altogether agreeable; and indeed it must be a -hard case, where a young and graceful woman and a young and -accomplished man, finding their way on together along a road they do -not know, in a dull and drizzly night, dislike each other very much in -the end.</p> - -<p class="normal">The mind of Harry Martin seemed, for the time, wholly taken up with -the accident which had happened to Mrs. More, for whom he apparently -entertained as much affection as if he had been her son. Although he -in no degree affected to have forgotten Morley Ernstein, and spoke to -him in a tone of respect--perhaps one might say, of gratitude--yet he -referred, not even by a word, to the circumstances of their previous -acquaintance. Morley himself kept aloof from any such topic also, on -account of the proximity of his servants' ears, though he determined, -if occasion served, to enquire into all which had lately occurred to -his companion, and to ascertain by what train of events he now found -him in a remote part of Germany, with his wife and family. The -opportunity was soon given to him. On their arrival at Steig, they -found the little post-house full of bustle and confusion. Poor Mrs. -More had been taken out of the carriage, and removed to bed, it having -been found that her leg was broken in two places. Her daughter was in -the room, attending upon her, with no little distress of mind; and the -fair Italian, who had accompanied Morley Ernstein--though there was -evidently a little struggle in her breast as to whether she should -stay below in the hall, and pass the evening with the young English -gentleman, or go up and give what assistance she could to the sufferer -up stairs--decided, at length, in favour of the more amiable, though -less pleasant occupation. Bidding Morley a graceful good night, she -left him and Harry Martin in possession of the great, odd-shaped room, -which is almost always to be found on the lower story of a German inn, -and proceeded to the chamber of Mrs. More, where, we may as well add, -in passing, she shewed much good humour, and benevolent attention, -aiding Jane in putting her child to bed, and soothing and tending her -mother.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meantime, Morley Ernstein's servants busied themselves in -preparing their master's room, taking care of the carriage, and -removing a part of the contents to the house; while the courier paid -the postilion within a few florins of the sum he intended to charge -his master, ordered the best of everything for his own supper, and the -next best for that of Sir Morley, and looked into the saloon three -times to see what the young gentleman was about, and to prove that he -was very attentive.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the part of Sir Morley Ernstein, the first proceeding was to send -for the post-master, and to enquire where a surgeon could be procured. -No good one was to be heard of nearer than Freiburg; and, accordingly, -a man on horseback was sent off by Sir Morley's directions, to bring -the best bone-setter that the capital of the Breisgau could afford. -Then--after various enquiries as to the real situation of the old -woman, after some going to and fro between her chamber and the saloon, -and all the little bustles, orders and counter-orders, enquiries and -replies, examinations and discoveries, precautions, preparations, and -annoyances, which attend the first arrival at an out-of-the-way inn, -on a dark and rainy night, after a journey of adventures and -mishaps--after all this was concluded Harry Martin stood upon the -other, with his arms crossed upon his broad, bull-like chest.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You see, Sir Morley," said the latter, at length, as if in -explanation of his feelings towards Mrs. More--"you see, that I am -very anxious about this old woman, for she has been kind to me ever -since I first knew her, and ended by saving my life. She was -the first one, sir, that ever made me think--love being out of the -question--that any one could care about me for myself, and she has -always kept tight to the same way of acting by me; though, God knows, -little was the good I ever did her or hers! However, I am sure I ought -to be well contented with the world, for when I was at the hardest -pinch that ever man was at, I found people to be generous to me, -people to be true to me, and people to be zealous for me, which, -altogether, was what saved my life, when I as much deserved to be -hanged as any man that ever was born."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How was that?" demanded Morley Ernstein, not doubting, indeed, the -truth of Harry Martin's confession, but merely desirous of hearing -something more of his history: "I left you in a fair way of making -your escape, I thought."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, sir, so you did," replied his companion, "but I was fool enough -to put my foot in a trap, and was caught. I should have been hanged, -too, if it hadn't been for that noble girl Miss Helen Barham, who -should be a queen if I had my will. She kept her word with me in spite -of all that any one could say, and she'll go to heaven for it, if it -was for nothing else, for she's given me time to think and to change -my life altogether, and that's what the law would not have done. My -wife was reading me the Bible, the other day, where it says--'There's -joy in heaven over one sinner that repents;' and if it be so, -which I don't pretend to doubt, she must have made the place very -happy--which, indeed, I suppose it was before--for certainly I was as -bad as I could be, but now I have repented a good deal, and mean to do -so a great deal more. It would not have been the case, sir, if it -happened any other way at all; if they had hanged me, I should have -died game; and if I had got off by some trick of the lawyers, some -flaw in the indictment, or something of that kind, I should have been -at the old work again in a week; but to see that beautiful girl sit -there, badgered by the judge and all the lawyers, and quietly make up -her mind to go to prison sooner than to break her word with a man like -me,--why, sir, it changed my whole heart in a moment; and I thought to -myself, if I get off this time I will lead a different life altogether -for your sake, you angel, just to shew you that I'm not altogether so -bad as people think!"</p> - -<p class="normal">By degrees, Morley Ernstein obtained a general idea of all that -occurred to Harry Martin, since he left him in the north of England. -It was not with little interest that the young Englishman questioned -him concerning Helen Barham, and we need hardly say that it was with -pleasure he heard, not only her praises from the man beside him, but -an account of the actions which had called forth his gratitude. It was -with great satisfaction, too, he learnt that a change had taken place -in her pecuniary affairs and that competence, if not wealth, was at -all events assured to her; for though he had written to Mr. Hamilton -about her before he left England, and placed her future fate beyond -doubt, he was not a little pleased to find that she would be dependant -upon no one. The relative situation into which they had been thrown, -the high qualities of her mind, the compassion that he had felt for -her--ay, the very temptation which had at one moment assailed him, had -left a tenderness in his feelings towards Helen Barham, which was -certainly not love, and yet was something more than friendship, It was -a sensation, strange, complicated, difficult to be defined even to his -own mind; it was the blending of many memories and many sweet -impressions into something like the affection of a father for a child, -something like the love of a brother for a sister, and yet differing -from both, inasmuch as there was nothing conventional in it, inasmuch -as there was no bond or tie of duty, inasmuch as it differed from the -common forms and modes into which the rules of society shape our -feelings as well as our actions.</p> - -<p class="normal">The presence of such sensations in his bosom was rendered more -sensible to him by the conversation taking place at that moment, than -it had ever been before, and he paused for some short time thinking -that it was all very strange, and enquiring into the nature of the -things within him. The man Martin, in the meantime, remained beside -him, with his keen, intelligent eyes fixed upon his countenance, -apparently reading, or attempting to read, the thoughts that were busy -in his breast.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length he said--"Well, Sir Morley, I am going to bid you good -night, and I thank you very heartily for all the kindness you have -shewn me. There's one thing I can't help saying, however--and you must -not think me impudent or meddling for saying it, though I must not -mention any names--but I can't help thinking, sir, that you have -thrown away your own happiness, and quitted the good, and the true, -and the beautiful, to follow one that you'll find out some day, -perhaps when hope, and comfort, and peace are all ruined together. -Forgive me for saying it, sir, but I owe it to one who has been kind -to me to give him a warning. I wish you good night, sir!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, stay!" cried Morley; "explain what you mean, at least, before -you go."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no, I can't say any more," replied Harry Martin, moving steadily -towards the door, "I have said all that I have a right to say; and I -only add, that if you watch you will see, and if you enquire you will -find out. You will be convinced, at last, although I should think that -you had had enough to convince you already."</p> - -<p class="normal">Without waiting for further question he turned and quitted the room, -and Morley remained bewildered and surprised, applying the words just -spoken to Juliet Carr, although they referred to quite a different -object; and asking himself how the man who had just left him could -have gained such a knowledge of his affairs. Surprise was certainly -the first feeling, but suspicion is a guest that finds but too easy -admission into the human heart.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Peace, and comfort, and happiness are indeed gone already," he said, -"and gone by her act--must I call it by her fault? Can this be -trifling?--Love, they say, is blind.--Can it be coquetry? Can she be -sporting with my misery?"</p> - -<p class="normal">But, as he put the question to his own heart, the idea of Juliet Carr, -in all her beauty, in all her frank simplicity, in all that -openhearted candour which gave the crowning grace to her demeanour, -rose up before his sight, and he became not only angry with himself -for having given credit to one word against her; but angry also and -indignant, with the man who had uttered aught that could raise a doubt -of her sincerity in his mind.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLVIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Early on the following morning the carriage of Morley Ernstein -stood -prepared for departure before the little inn at Steig. He had sent to -ask after the health of the old woman who had suffered from the -accident of the preceding night, and had heard, certainly with -pleasure, that the surgeon made a favourable report of her situation, -though he at once pronounced that she must remain for many weeks in -the room to which she had been carried. For Martin himself the young -gentleman had not asked; nor did he speak more than a few words to him -when he met him at the bottom of the stairs, in descending to go into -his carriage. Although convinced that the man intended well, he was -still angry, to say the truth, at the words which the other had -addressed to him on the preceding evening; the more angry, perhaps, -because he felt irritated with himself on account of the shade of -doubt which lingered in his own mind, which he had combated during the -whole night without being able to conquer it, which had fled but to -return, and which still raised its head against reason and -argument--ay, and even conviction itself.</p> - -<p class="normal">With one of the party which he had encountered the night before, -however, he did stop to speak for some minutes. It was with the -Italian lady, who had been his companion on foot from the place where -the accident had occurred to the inn; and he now perceived clearly--a -fact of which he had only a faint notion from his glance during the -preceding evening--namely, that she was a young and very pretty woman; -not exactly beautiful, for there was not a feature in her face which -deserved that often misapplied epithet, if we except the eyes. They, -indeed, were remarkably fine, as most Italian eyes are--bright, -sparkling, and full of merry light, but chastened withal by a frequent -look of feeling and thoughtful meditation. To behold them, and to -watch their expression for any length of time, reminded one of a -sunshiny prospect with an occasional cloud floating over it and -varying by its soft shadows the sparkling brightness of the scene.</p> - -<p class="normal">With her, then, Morley stopped to speak for some time, enquiring after -her health, and hoping that she had not suffered from the accidents of -the night before. She replied, gaily, that she had nothing to complain -of, except that she was stopped on her journey, which, indeed, was not -only an annoyance, but a misfortune. It would be two or three days, -she said, before the carriage would be able to proceed, and delay -would be most inconvenient to her, as she had engagements in Milan and -Venice, on account of which she had determined on going by the -Brenner, as the pass most certain to be open. If she could but reach -Constance, she would soon be able to find a conveyance for the rest of -the journey which was not to be done at Steig.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley hesitated; English prudence came in the way--the question which -every Englishman first puts to himself, "What will people say," -instantly suggested itself; and it took him a minute, which under such -circumstances is a long time, ere he could make up his mind to do that -to which good-nature prompted him. How often is it that good feelings -are panders to bad actions! Alas! too frequently do they lead us so -near the door of evil places, that we are tempted to go in. Morley -Ernstein took his resolution at length, and replied, that if she were -not bound by any means to go in the same conveyance which had brought -her so far, a seat in his carriage was much at her service.</p> - -<p class="normal">Many persons may, perhaps, enquire whether her sparkling dark eyes had -anything to do with Morley's civility. I can conscientiously -reply--"Nothing in the world." He would have made the same proposal if -she had been as ugly as Cerberus perhaps more readily; and the only -part that her bright eyes could take in the business, was to make her -even a more dangerous companion than that three headed gentleman -himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">She did not refuse the young Baronet's proposal, but laughed with an -arch look as she accepted it, saying--"You are afraid of your -reputation. Is it not so? All Englishmen are so prudent and careful! -We Italians have much more confidence in virtue, bad as they call us; -but I am not the least afraid, though my reputation is much more -likely to be endangered than yours--for I, too, have a reputation to -lose."</p> - -<p class="normal">She spoke the last words somewhat proudly, and there was a frankness -in her whole demeanour which pleased Morley Ernstein, and set him more -at ease. The carriage was ordered to wait for half-an-hour, the -voiturier was easily settled with, the trunks and packages were -removed to Morley Ernstein's chariot, and the young Englishman -followed the fair Italian into the vehicle, a third place being taken -therein by her maid. Good Adam Gray looked grave; and although his -brow was somewhat cleared when he saw that his master and the strange -lady were not to be without a companion, yet, to say sooth, the old -man was not well satisfied. Whether it was experience or nature taught -him that, for a young man like Morley to sit side by side, during a -somewhat long journey, with a gay and pretty Italian girl was a -dangerous sort of proximity, matters very little; but Adam Gray could -not help fancying that the matter might end ill, having no great faith -in the virtue of any lady born beyond the precincts of the four seas, -and, perhaps, not quite so much confidence in his master's powers of -resisting the impetuous fire of his own nature as Morley really -deserved.</p> - -<p class="normal">Now might I, dear reader, trace the journey of the young Englishman -and his fair companion, tell all that took place between them, and -point out how she gradually won upon Morley Ernstein--amused, pleased, -interested him. I might dilate upon all the little incidents of the -road, all the attentions which he thought himself bound to pay her, -all those small and accidental circumstances which occasionally lead -people on, to use Shakspeare's expression, upon "The primrose way to -the everlasting bonfire." There were many of those things took -place--there was the flash of similar thought, there was the -admiration of similar objects, there were the slight differences that -give variety, there were the touches of feeling which, like the -cabalistic words pronounced by the magician, in the tales of eastern -lands, open the heart, however firmly it may be locked against -intrusion. But we must pause upon very few of these matters, and will -only notice two little incidents, and one brief part of their -conversation.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the moment they set out, Morley made up his mind not to stay at -Schaffhausen, but to go on to Constance at once; it must be admitted -that he took this resolution from an unacknowledged conviction that he -was not doing the most prudent thing in the world, in travelling with -the fair Italian at all. In fact, he wished not to make more than one -day of the journey. It was somewhat later, however, than he had -calculated upon when they arrived at Schaffhausen, the hour of the -table-d'hôte was over, dinner could not be obtained for an hour, and -the host enquired, as if it were a thing absolutely necessary to be -done, at what time they would like to see the falls. The lady looked -in Morley's face, and left him to answer. It seemed to him that there -would be a rudeness in not giving her a choice; and the consequence -was, they went to see the falls together, by the light of a fine -afternoon, and returning to Schaffhausen remained there that night.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the saloon to which they were shown there was a piano; and Morley's -companion, in one of the unoccupied moments--of which there are more -in inns than in any other places, perhaps, in the world--walked up to -the instrument, ran her fingers over the keys, with a touch of -complete mastery, and hummed, rather than sang, a few bars of a -popular opera; but it was done in a manner which left Morley in no -doubt that her voice itself had been cultivated with the utmost care. -It may easily be supposed, then, that the evening did not pass without -music--without that enjoyment, which, whether we may consider it an -entity or not, is in all its forms one of the greatest blessings that -ever was bestowed on man.</p> - -<p class="normal">Music--what is it? How can one say what it really is? Substantial it -is certainly not, or rather, I should say, material. Where is it to be -found? Is it not in the spirit itself? Is it not, in fact, one of the -highest and holiest qualities of the soul; a perception of that -harmony which we may well believe to be an attribute of God, from -finding it in all his works--from seeing it in all his revelations of -himself. In what part of creation is it that the heart of man may not -find music, if he will? Sweet sounds may, indeed, by the ear produce -the impression most distinctly; but sights presented to the eye will -raise exactly the same sensations in the spirit; and sounds, and -sights, and sense, all link themselves together in memory, shewing -their near affinity to each other and their reference to one -harmonious whole. Nevertheless, on this earth the grand expression of -that innate music, which--as fire is latent in every existing material -thing--lies hid in every object of the spirit's action, is still to be -found in the union of sweet tones; and as the reader may easily -imagine, from all we have said of his character, no one was ever more -deeply moved by the power of harmony than Morley Ernstein. He -listened, then, entranced to the singing of the fair Italian, perfect -as it was in every respect, for nature had given her, in her rich -Italian voice, an instrument such as no art could fabricate; and -science and long study had taught her to wield all its powers with -unrivalled effect. Taste, too, and, apparently, deep feeling were not -wanting; and when she had sung something exquisitely beautiful, and -then looked up in Morley's face to see the effect it had produced on -him, there was as much music in her eyes as on her lips.</p> - -<p class="normal">These, reader, are the two incidents which I promised to relate; and -now for the conversation. Their second day's journey was verging to a -close; a sort of soft languor had come over the fair Italian--a touch -of melancholy, such as almost every one must feel in drawing nigh the -moment of parting from one with whom we have held sweet intercourse -even for a few short hours. They had glances of the Rhine as they -rolled along; they caught the distant towers of Constance, to which -they were rapidly approaching; gleams of far mountains; and, once, a -sight of the wide lake met their eyes as they advanced; and all told -them that the time of separation was coming. The maid was apparently -asleep; and, at all events, Morley and his companion, were speaking -French, which she did not understand. The sights before their eyes, -the yellow evening tint that was spreading over the sky, not only led -their thoughts to that moment of parting, but brought the conversation -suddenly to it also. The lady looked up, from the reverie of a minute -or two, with a smile, in which there was a touch of the sadness of -which I have spoken.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well," she said, "we are now drawing near our journey's end. I have -to thank you much for your kindness. It will prove of great service to -me, and, I trust, be of no disservice to you. You see we have passed -along our way without meeting any one, so that neither your reputation -nor mine can have suffered."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know it is very foolish," answered Morley, in his usual frank -manner; "but I do not deny that I may feel the prejudices of my -country in these respects, though not sufficiently, I hope, to prevent -me from doing what is courteous and right. But still, I do think it -would be a dangerous practice, generally speaking, for young and -pretty ladies, such as yourself, to travel alone with any man unallied -to them in blood."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why?" demanded the Italian lady, simply.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was rather a difficult question to answer with sincerity; and, -after hesitating for a moment, Morley Ernstein said--"Why, nobody can -tell where they go to--how they spend their time. In short, they throw -off that sort of responsibility that they owe to society--the eyes of -the world are no longer upon them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And is it only the eyes of the world which keep people from doing -wrong?" asked the lady.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley laughed, and, wishing to change the subject, he answered--"Many -other inconveniences might happen, you know--they might fall in love -with each other, or do a thousand things of that kind."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, then I am quite safe!" replied the lady--"for I never yet saw the -man whom I felt the least inclination to fall in love with in my -life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps you are incapable of love," said Morley. "There are some -women so happily constituted by nature, that they never know what it -is to be touched by any but the more tranquil affections."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps such is the case," she rejoined quite seriously, "or perhaps, -what is more likely, I may spend all my feelings upon matters of -imagination. A song, a piece of music, a scene in a play, will move me -in a degree that I cannot describe. I have generally remarked, and am -inclined to believe it is an invariable rule, that people of a strong -imagination are very seldom troubled with strong affections."</p> - -<p class="normal">Her observation threw Morley into a reverie. He asked himself whether -it were true, and paused in doubt, not having sufficient experience to -solve the question at once by his own knowledge, and plunging into -those metaphysical deductions, which lead as often to what is false as -to what is true.</p> - -<p class="normal">The lady went on to say--"I hope--indeed I am sure, that such is the -case with myself; for I would not for the world feel such passions as -I see depicted and hear told. Thus I know myself to be perfectly safe, -and can trust myself in any situation without fear."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And yet," rejoined Morley, with a meaning smile, "you are an -Italian."</p> - -<p class="normal">"True," she answered, with one of her sparkling looks; "but perhaps -the very fact of the existence of such strong passions amongst my -countrywomen, as you would insinuate, may have been my warning and -safeguard."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where there is no danger, there is no need of a safeguard," said -Morley. "You acknowledge, then, that it is by reason, and not by -nature, that you are guided."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You must not press me too hard," exclaimed the lady, laughing--"you -know we women never understand how to argue. All I know is, that I -never did love, and never shall love any man--not even you, fair sir," -she added, laughing--"though you have certainly been much more kind -and courteous than most of your countrymen; and the only way I can -repay you is, by asking you to come and see me, should you visit -Venice, or, at least, should you be there some two months hence. I may -then be enabled to return your courtesy in some shape, and perhaps may -procure you the means of seeing more of the city of the waves than -foreigners usually do see."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will certainly avail myself of your invitation," replied Morley; -"but you forget that, owing to the strange way in which our -acquaintance commenced, I am ignorant, up to the present moment, even -of your name."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, that omission will soon be remedied," answered the lady--"my name -is Veronica Pratesi. You will easily find me in Venice."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus ended the conversation to which we wished to refer. The lady and -Morley spent the evening together at Constance, and part of the next -morning. A carriage was easily procured to convey her on her way, and -Morley placed her in it, and bade her adieu with feelings of regret.</p> - -<p class="normal">Her sparkling manner, too, was somewhat overshadowed by passing -clouds. At one moment, she was gay and bright as ever; at the next, -fell into deep thought. She bade him farewell however, with all the -levity of a Frenchwoman; but as soon as the adieu was spoken, and -while something was doing to the interminable harness, she gazed down -into the bottom of the vehicle, as if to prevent herself from having -any more last words. The moment the driver's whip cracked for -departure she turned round to look at Morley again; and her face was -then overclouded.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLIX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"Hi! ha!" said Lieberg, as he sat at breakfast with Morley -Ernstein, -in the Golden Stag, at Munich--"so you met with the cold and fair -Veronica, and actually travelled with her in your own carriage. I -trust, Morley, you did not fall in love with her, for there is no hope -there. When she first appeared at the opera at Naples--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"What! she is an actress, then?" demanded Morley Ernstein.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A singer--a singer," replied Lieberg--"the famous cantatrice. But, as -I was saying, when first she appeared at Naples, all the dissolute old -nobles of that kingdom, and half-a-dozen others of your own, Morley, -thought no expense would be too great to add this fair linnet to their -aviary. Various were the proposals made to her, more flattering to her -avarice than her virtue; but to every offer of the kind Veronica -returned but one answer--that of silent contempt. Then came the young, -and the gay, and the fascinating; and many a woman, Morley, as you -well know, surrenders to the wordy siege of a penniless young -libertine, who has resisted the golden bombardment of his grandfather. -But it was all in vain: Veronica gave them to understand that she -objected to young fools just as much as to old ones. Some were driven -into the despair of matrimony, and made what they called honourable -proposals, after having made what, by a plain inference, she was bound -to consider the reverse. But Veronica answered that whatever she -thought of their former offers, she thought still worse of these, -adding, that whatever folly she did commit, it should not at least be -the folly of marriage. Every one then said that she would make her own -choice, and would select some one, either for his rank, his person, or -his mind. But four years and more have since passed; all ranks, -classes, conditions, and degrees, have been at her feet, and Veronica -has continued to shew herself exactly the same piece of ice which she -from the first declared herself to be."</p> - -<p class="normal">"In fact," said Morley, "a cold coquette."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," answered Lieberg gravely--"no. I was at Naples the time the -thing first began, and I must do her the justice to say, she gave no -encouragement to any one. People always will seek what is difficult to -be had; and that quality, together with her singing, her fine eyes, -and her beautiful figure, were the great attractions. She sets up for -a sort of Corinne, too, writes poetry, goes about and sees the world, -makes an immense deal by her singing, and is a person very much -<i>recherchée</i> in Venice, I can assure you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is she a Venetian?" demanded Morley.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," replied Lieberg--"she is a Milanese, but she lives principally -in Venice, because, as she says truly, it is a city without noise, and -there is nothing she abhors so much as the rolling of carriage-wheels, -except the plaudits of a theatre."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then the fact simply is," said Morley, "she is a woman without -passions, and whose vanity takes a high tone."</p> - -<p class="normal">"In the last, you are right," answered Lieberg--"with regard to the -first, I doubt. There is something in the flashing of her eye, in the -brightness of her smile, and, occasionally, in the impetuous torrent -of her song, that gives the lie to her whole conduct. But as I do not -know her in private life, and never intend to know her either, I -cannot say, with any certainty, what is really beneath the appearance -of coldness. I never put myself in a situation to fall in love with a -woman with whom I am not likely to succeed; and if you will take my -advice, Morley, you will keep out of the way of Veronica Pratesi, -especially as you are very fond of music."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am not at all afraid," replied Morley; "there is not the least -chance of my ever falling in love with a barrel organ, let the tunes -be ever so pretty."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg smiled, well pleased to see that a bitterness not natural to -his young companion still held possession of him, so far as to affect -even his speech upon ordinary occasions. The conversation dropped -there, and at the end of about ten days, once more in full -companionship, their carriages were rolling down into the valley of -the Inn.</p> - -<p class="normal">I forget who it is that has said, that there is consolation in all -things. Perhaps he meant <i>for all things</i>; but I believe that the -observation were more just when taken in the most apparent -sense--namely, that from all things that do surround us, we may -extract consolation if we will. I have dwelt upon this topic already -perhaps at too great length; and what I have said respecting the -scenery on the Rhine, and its effect upon the mind of Morley Ernstein, -need be repeated here in regard to the scenery of the Tyrol: only, as -the objects around him were here grander and wilder, so the -impressions conveyed were more strong, more elevating, and also more -permanent.</p> - -<p class="normal">It would seem to me impossible, did I not know that it is frequently -done, for any man to stand in the presence of gigantic mountains, or -dwell long amidst the snowy peaks, and cloud-mantled summits of the -Alps, without finding his heart enlarged and his spirit raised by the -sublime aspect of the world around him. It is possible, however--but -too possible; and, although such was not the case with Morley -Ernstein--although he felt his bosom expand, as it were, to take in -the sensations produced by such majestic sights--the mind of his -companion remained unchanged, whatever was the scenery through which -he passed. And yet, let me not be mistaken; perhaps his mind also did -undergo some alteration, not in its nature, not in its character, but -in its capacity. The evil spirit might, in its own dark purposes, -assume a loftier range, but without the slightest difference in the -ends proposed, without a change even in the means employed. The -sensation of joy and satisfaction at any progress made, of dark -malevolence and angry impatience when aught obstructed its course. -might become more energetic, more grand, more awful, though all the -rest remained the same. There is a sublime in bad as well as in good, -and the feelings of Lieberg, it would appear, were in intensity, as -much influenced by the sights which presented themselves hourly to his -eye in the Tyrol, as even that of his companion.</p> - -<p class="normal">One thing, however, is to be remarked, the country in which they now -were was quite new to Morley, but not so to Lieberg. He had seen it -often before, and the freshness of first impressions was at an end. -Nevertheless he gladly took part with his fellow traveller, in all his -wanderings through that bright scenery; he climbed the peaks of the -mountains with him; he gazed down into the valleys; he trod the wide -tracks of snow; he accompanied him through the deep woods of pines; he -stood upon the edge of the beetling precipice, or gazed over the wild -dark lake; and it must be said, that his companionship gave additional -charms to the expedition. Untiring in mind and in body, seeming never -to know weariness for a moment, always well pleased at whatever course -was taken, and always deriving a fresh current of thoughts, equally -new and striking, from every change of scene that presented itself, -Lieberg kept the thoughts of Morley Ernstein in a continual state of -excitement, pleasing, though too strong. Occasionally, indeed, some of -those strange observations, or perverted trains of reasoning, to which -I have already adverted more than once, would burst forth, as it were, -irrepressibly; and dark and awful words, betokening a spirit angry -with, and rebellious to the will of God, would startle Morley at the -very moment when his own heart felt inclined to raise itself in praise -and adoration.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was thus one day, after climbing nearly to the summit of a high -peak, that they stood with their feet among the fresh fallen snow of -the preceding night. There was a bright blue sky above them, and a -light cloud rolled round the edge of the mountain, about half way -down, while, beyond it--bursting forth in strong relief of light and -shade--appeared one of those splendid valleys, surrounded on every -side by Alps, and a thousand lesser hills rising up from the bottom of -the depth, and bearing high their ancient castles to catch the -noon-day sun. Morley gazed round with feelings of love and gratitude -towards that Being who has robed the earth in splendour, and cast a -mantle of beauty over all his works. But then, even then, as their -eyes rested upon an infinite multitude of things, varying through -every form of loveliness, and running up in magnificent harmony, from -the fair delicate flower on the edge of the snow, to the stupendous -sublimity of the icy crags above their head--it was then, even then, -that Lieberg, after several minutes of dark thought, exclaimed, "Where -shall man flee from God, from him, who has pronounced himself a God of -vengeance--from him whose will is death and destruction--who has -allotted a portion of sorrow to every being he has created, and cast -the miserable insects he has formed into a sea of wretchedness, and -strife, and mutual destruction? Where shall man flee from this fierce -God? If he go into the cities, the pestilence and the sword, the -midnight robber, the slow disease, the poisoned cup, the faithless -paramour, disappointed hopes, agonized limbs, pangs, and death, meet -him there; he can scarcely breathe the air without drawing in some -calamity; he can scarcely lay himself down to rest without finding an -asp upon his pillow. If he climb to the top of the mountains, and take -refuge in the solitude of these eternal hills, the lightning and the -rending fragment, the false footing and the thundering avalanche -follow him there, and crush the writhing object of tyrannical power, -as man himself sets his foot upon the worm."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley turned round, and gazed at him with sensations of wonder and -horror; but after a moment's pause, the awful cloud which had hung -upon Lieberg's fine brow, passed away, and noticing the expression of -his companion's countenance with a smile, he added--"You are -surprised, Morley, to find such gloomy feelings in one so gay as I am; -but, perhaps, it may be the conviction of all life's many miseries -that teaches me so eagerly to drain its scanty joys."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, Lieberg, no," answered Morley, somewhat sternly; "I was not -surprised at finding such gloomy feelings; but I was surprised at -finding such impious thoughts, and hearing such blasphemous words."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But are they not true ones?" demanded Lieberg, with his eye flashing. -"For what did God make man, but to curse him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Man is his own curse," replied Morley. "We see it in everything. Are -not his luxuries and his vices the cause of his diseases? Are not his -strife and contention the effect of his own pampered passions? Are not -almost all the evils that beset him, in a civilized state, the work of -his own refractory will, opposed to the declared will of God? You may -say that God formed him with those passions, and therefore that still -the curse was his; but God gave them to him for good, not for evil; -and not only with beneficent generosity left him to choose the good or -evil course, according to his own volition, but guarded him against -the one by warning and exhortation, and persuaded him to the other by -every inducement, and every reward. Man is his own curse, Lieberg; man -is his own curse, and if, as we daily see, he brings two-thirds, at -least, of the misery that exists upon his own head, by his own act, -we may very well conclude, that the rest of the load also was -purchased in times past by errors and disobedience of the same kind."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By eating an apple in a garden," said Lieberg, with a sneer, turning -on his heel to descend the mountain.</p> - -<p class="normal">"By rebellion against God, in some shape!" replied Morley.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg paused suddenly upon the verge of the crag, with his eye -flashing fiercely, as if from personal offence, and for an instant the -same demon-like expression came over his whole face, and even form, -which had once caught the eye of Helen Barham. As he stood there, with -his fine limbs thrown into strong action while balancing himself -proudly upon the very edge of the precipice, and with the dark shadow -on his haughty features, he certainly looked like one of the fallen -spirits come down to hold dangerous communion with mortal men. The -passion which moved him, however, passed away in a moment, and, -without saying another word, he proceeded in his descent.</p> - -<p class="normal">Though nothing that could be called a dispute had taken place, yet -this conversation cast a shadow both upon Morley and Lieberg, during -the rest of the day. They proceeded in the afternoon to Meran, and put -up at the little inn, where stories of Hofer, and thoughts of past -times, served, like the evening sun, to clear the clouds away, and -they rose for their journey the following morning in a more cheerful -mood.</p> - -<p class="normal">I have said this book is not a road-book--I wish to Heaven it were, -for there are few things more pleasant than journeying lightly along, -taking the reader as one's companion, and discussing with him, in a -quiet, easy kind of way, sometimes the bright and beautiful things of -nature, sometimes the follies and absurdities of man; telling a story -here, gleaning an anecdote there; moralizing on the strange destinies -of states and individuals; looking into the domestic home of the -peasant in one place, sitting down with the statesman in his -retirement in another; sometimes listening to the thunders of -eloquence, sometimes to the music of the shepherd's pipe. But all this -must not be, and we must hurry upon our way with Morley and his -companion passing along by the side of the clear and sparkling Adige, -and issuing forth into the plains of Lombardy; but, strange to say, -with far different feelings from those which are described by -universal tourists in the language of conventional admiration for the -land of song and ancient arts.</p> - -<p class="normal">The weather in the Tyrol had been fine and warm, for the season of the -year. The days had been clear, the nights fine, as if summer had come -back in the train of autumn, to usurp, for a time, possession of the -earth in despite of winter. The scenery had thus appeared to the -highest advantage, and the Lombard plains seemed flat and meaningless -to the eyes of Morley Ernstein, as they bent their way towards Verona.</p> - -<p class="normal">After sleeping in that fine old city, seeing all the curious monuments -Which it contains, Juliet's apocryphal tomb, and that splendid -amphitheatre which first wakes up in the mind of the traveller the -images of the mighty past, that Rome is destined to call forth still -more vividly, it became a question whether they should proceed on -their way southward, while the weather was yet fine and clear, or turn -aside to visit Venice, and other places of interest on that side of -Italy.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg seemed somewhat anxious to go on, but Morley had dreams about -Venice which he wished to realize. It was to him a place of greater -interest than Rome itself. He had few sympathies with the Cæsars, but -with "<i>The Rialto, Shylock, and the Moor</i>," he had a thousand, and -easily induced his companion to give up his own opinion, and accompany -him, by Vicenza and Padua, to the City of the Sea, proposing, as they -returned, to pass by Mantua and Modena, on their way to Naples.</p> - -<p class="normal">Venice is certainly a place of enchantment--the only town I ever saw -which leaves fancy far behind. Morley Ernstein yielded to the magic -influence of the place, as he had yielded to the effect of every other -beautiful thing along the road. The buildings, the pictures, the air, -the Adriatic, the moonlight walks in the Piazzetta, the solemn -mysterious gloom of the jewel-fretted dome of St. Mark's,--all excited -his imagination to a pitch which he had thought scarcely possible; he -lived as if in another world; he felt as if his Spirit were refreshed -and renewed. The powers of enjoyment came fully back upon him, and the -vein of melancholy, of unfading and unfaded regret, that mingled with -every pleasure, seemed now to elevate and not to lower the tone of his -sensations.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was his state of mind when, one day as he was waiting for Lieberg -on the Sclavonian quay, and gazing thoughtfully over towards the -ghost-like church of the <i>Salute</i>, a lady crossed him, dressed, as is -very common there, in black, and gliding along with a quick but -graceful pace, her head bent down, and her veil closely drawn around -her face. She had passed him before she seemed to take any notice; but -then she suddenly stopped, and turning round, as if she partially -recognised him, and wished to make herself sure, she raised her veil, -shewing him the countenance of his fair companion Veronica.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley sprang forward with real pleasure, for the effect of Lieberg's -description of her character and conduct was yet strong upon his mind, -but she looked at him reproachfully, though she held out her hand, -saying--"You had forgotten your promise. I have heard of your being in -Venice these five days."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I had not forgotten, indeed," replied Morley; "but, if you recollect, -you gave me to understand that you would not be here so soon."</p> - -<p class="normal">"True--true," she said; "but I did not stay in Milan as long as I -expected--I wanted to get back; and now I am mortified, because I dare -say you have seen almost all that is worth seeing here without me. I -wanted to shew you everything myself, and to see your enthusiasm, to -call it forth, to force it into action. My countrymen, and almost -every other nation upon earth, make a mistake about you English; they -say you have no enthusiasm, but I believe that England is the only -country where true enthusiasm is to be found. The difference is, that -with us there is the gilding upon the surface--with you the gold is in -the heart; with most nations it is a painted shrine having little -inside, but with you it is the oaken casket, and the jewels within; -now, you have deprived me of the pleasure of seeing these jewels--I -mean, making you display your enthusiasm; and therefore I am very -angry with you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You shall not be angry with me long," said Morley--"for I have not -yet seen one half there is to see, and my enthusiasm is in such a -state of excitement, that I could run wild upon almost any subject -connected with Venice."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is right--that is right," she tried; "and you must let me shew -you all. Where are you going now? My gondola is at the end of the -quay; but who is this coming here, as if to join you? Oh, I -remember!--that dark, terrible man Lieberg; I have seen him in Naples -in days of old. I never loved that man: there is something fearful -about him. You are travelling with him, I hear. Beware--beware!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Almost as she spoke, Lieberg came up, bowing low to the fair Italian, -but without addressing her, and Morley could evidently see that he was -not well pleased to find him in her society.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am sorry," he said, addressing his friend--"that I shall not be -able to accompany you as I intended, for I find letters at the -banker's this morning, which require an immediate answer."</p> - -<p class="normal">Veronica's features sparkled with pleasure, which she took not the -slightest pains to conceal. "You shall come with me, then," she said, -"and we will row across to one of the islands, go to the Armenian -convent, or to Murano--No, that is too far--we will go down the Grand -Canal, and see some of the pictures. There are pictures here that make -one live three hundred years ago, and speak with people that have been -long in their graves."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A pleasant employment, madam, for a dull morning," said Lieberg. -"Sometimes the dead are as pleasant, and less dangerous companions -than the living," answered the lady, in a marked manner. Lieberg bowed -low, with bitter emphasis, replying--"Undoubtedly!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Veronica could not but feel his meaning, and her eyes flashed for a -moment angrily, but the next instant the look of irritation passed -away, and giving her hand gaily to Morley Ernstein, she said--"Come! -your friend is not an Englishman, and therefore we can expect no -enthusiasms from him."</p> - -<p class="normal">In a minute or two after, however, as they were walking on together, -she said, in a low voice--"Has he been slandering me? Has he dared to -say aught against my name?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, indeed," answered Morley Ernstein; "nothing of the kind, I assure -you. He told me he had seen you at Naples some years ago--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But his words implied something," she exclaimed, hastily--"he spoke -as if he wished to give you a warning, and evidently alluded to some -existing danger. What was it? Tell me, my friend, if you are frank, as -I believe you. Did he, or did he not, mean to imply that I was like -some of our light women of the theatres, who seek for men, such as you -are, to plunder and deceive them?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not in the least," replied Morley; "he thought, on the contrary, that -you might captivate but to make me unhappy; in fact, that you might -sport with love after having excited it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I seek not to excite it," said the lady in a grave tone; "I never -have sought, and I have warned you fully."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have," answered Morley, "and I have no fear. My heart is cased in -iron, fair lady, as hard as your own, and there is no danger of my -deriving aught but pleasure from your society."</p> - -<p class="normal">The lady looked up in his face with a gay smile, conscious of grace -and powers of captivation, perhaps doubting a little her companion's -capabilities of resistance, and half inclined to try them, if but to -shake his too great confidence. In short, dear reader--for in truth I -must be short--Morley Ernstein and Veronica Pratesi were in as -dangerous a situation as ever two people were in this wide world; both -of them a good deal too confident of their own powers, and trusting -themselves too far in every way.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the end of the quay was the lady's own gondola, and in it, half -sitting, half lying, as is the case in those luxurious contrivances, -Morley Ernstein skimmed along over the waves of the lagune during the -rest of the day. That in itself was dangerous enough, but the -conversation of his fair companion, the sights they met with, the -feelings, the thoughts, the enthusiasms which those sights called -forth, the excitement of the scene and the circumstances, all rendered -even that first day very perilous indeed. Darkness at length fell, and -Veronica insisted that Morley should dine with her, and spend the rest -of the day at her house. It was a small but beautiful dwelling, with a -delicately carved marble staircase, leading down to one of the -principal canals; and as Morley found that he could not leave Lieberg -without some explanation, he obtained her permission to return to the -inn on the promise of being back with her again immediately. Her -gondola conveyed him to Danielli's, and waited for him while he went -up and told Lieberg of his engagement.</p> - -<p class="normal">His companion gazed in his face with a look of some astonishment, and -then exclaimed, laughing--"On my life, Morley, either this woman is a -coquette, which is a name she never bore, or else she is in love with -you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Neither, my good friend," replied Morley. "If I did not feel sure -that she was neither one nor the other, my conduct would be very -different."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, go on, Morley--go on," said Lieberg, shaking him by the hand; -"if you win Veronica Pratesi, you will indeed be an extraordinary -person. But you will not win her; so take care you don't get yourself -into a scrape."</p> - -<p class="normal">To some it may seem, that Lieberg was very kind in his apprehensions -for his young friend, but with others it will be doubted whether his -warnings were likely to deter him from, or lead him on upon the path -which he was pursuing. We will not take the pains of solving the -problem, but will only tell what was the real effect which his words -did produce. They instantly suggested to Morley's mind the -question--"Is it possible to win Veronica--to call that fascinating -creature my own--to accomplish that in which so many had failed?" -There were three distinct sources of temptation in those three ways of -putting the question. Passion, fancy, vanity--all raised their sweet -voices together; and although Morley, like Ulysses, tried to stop -his ears against the song of the Sirens--or, in other words; -turned away his mind from the idea--yet, throughout the whole of his -after-communication with Veronica, that question came like a vague -sound, heard, though he would not listen to it--"Is it possible to win -her?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The devil never miscalculates in his dealings with human nature, and -in choosing his word, he always selects the right one for his own -purposes.</p> - -<p class="normal">He found Veronica alone, standing in one of those beautiful halls -which have seen the fair and the bright of other days, and seem in -their very atmosphere to bear the memories of more poetical times, -even in the steam and rail-road age in which we live. She was -arranging flowers in a large antique vase, and the classic lines of -her beautiful figure accorded well with every object that the room -contained, while an air of intense thought, all too deep for the light -employment in which she was engaged, harmonized the whole--like the -low tones of some fine instrument in the bass, pervading with its -solemn sounds a fine and complicated piece of music.</p> - -<p class="normal">Veronica looked up from the flowers as Morley entered, but seemed -scarcely to see him for a moment or two, so intense was the fit of -musing into which she was plunged. Then, with a graceful wave of the -head, and a smile at her own abstractedness, she gave him her hand, -saying--"You have been long; and, as I always do when left alone, I -had fallen into a reverie."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A sweet or a bitter one?" demanded Morley.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mixed," she replied, "as all things on earth are. But come, dinner -will be ready in a few minutes, and in the meanwhile I will sing you a -song, which has never been heard by any ears but yours. It is by a -young composer, named Bellini, who will one day be a great man."</p> - -<p class="normal">The reader may imagine how the evening passed--music, and poetry, and -deep thought, and bright fancies,--Wit, and Imagination and Feeling, -sporting like three sweet children on the carpet, while the good old -nurses, Judgment and Prudence, were kept at the back of the door. -Twice a fit of musing fell upon Veronica. Was the cause of it fear? -Did she doubt herself? Did she doubt her companion? Who shall say? One -thing is certain--she and Morley Ernstein were equally resolved not to -fear anything, which is, in general, a strong sign of being afraid. It -was late when they parted, and both started when they found how late, -for the minutes had gone so rapidly that each thought the night was -not far spent. They only left each other to meet again the following -morning early, Veronica exacting a promise that Morley would see -nothing more in Venice without her.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I cannot refuse your friend's company," she said, "if it needs must -be so; but I shall never like him, even if he were to call me an -angel."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg, however, refused to be of the party, saying, with a -sneer--"The housemaids in England, Morley, have a proverb which sets -forth the inconveniences attending upon the number, three; at least, -in reference to social things. Now, what is good for a housemaid is -good for a king or a count, and therefore I will not render your party -of the obnoxious number. So fare you well, and success attend you, -though I am quite willing to take you a bet of five thousand pounds -this moment that you do not succeed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I shall succeed in all I seek for," replied Morley, "for I shall seek -for nothing that is not very easily obtained."</p> - -<p class="normal">Once more the gondola skimmed along the canals, and once more Morley -and Veronica, side by side, were borne over the bright Adriatic -waters, throughout a world of beautiful things, and indulging their -fancies to the utmost. Veronica told Morley again all that she had -told him before about the coldness of her nature, and the -impossibility of her ever loving any one; and Morley laughed, and -assured her that the warning was unnecessary; and then they both -smiled and continued the subject of love, till, landing at a palace on -the Grand Canal, they walked thoughtfully into the vacant rooms hung -with pictures beautiful and inestimable in themselves, but falling -into sad decay. The first thing that their eyes rested upon was a -small but exquisite painting of the marriage of St. Catherine, by Paul -Veronese, and before it they paused for several minutes without -uttering a word.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is strange," said Veronica, at length, "that such things should -exist."</p> - -<p class="normal">"As love, do you mean?" demanded Morley, with some surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no, no," replied his fair companion with playful vehemence; "I can -easily conceive love, though I never felt it, and can conceive its -leading one to anything, to excess of every kind, jealousy, revenge, -sacrifices of all kinds--everything, in short, but marriage. Why any -man, because he is attached to a woman, should wish her to make -herself a slave, I cannot understand; but still less, how any woman -can consent to such a folly. She would love him ten times better if -she were not bound by a hard oath; and he would not so soon cease to -love her, as men usually do, if he did not first make her a slave."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley did not reply, but went on musing, and Veronica once more -brought back the conversation to the subject of love, uttered a few -gay and saucy sentences in defiance of the great power, and then fell -into a more pensive train, ending in a fresh reverie.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus passed the day; and when they once more reached the steps of her -own house, she said--"I will not ask you to stay with me to-day, for I -must go to the theatre. You may come and see me there if you like. You -will not often have the opportunity, for I have to-day taken a -resolution to give up the stage for ever. I require it no longer as a -resource, and my feelings are changed towards that profession in which -I once found triumph and delight. I used to imagine that there is -something glorious in embodying a great writer's conceptions, or in -giving voice to the melodious visions of some great composer; but now, -I know not why, I feel sick of it altogether, so I shall only sing the -five nights for which I am engaged, and once more for the poor of the -city. Come and hear me then!--But do not applaud. I would not for one -half of Europe see you clap your hands with the vulgar crowd; I should -not be able to sing a note afterwards."</p> - -<p class="normal">Had Morley Ernstein been experienced in love, he would have known the -invariable maxim that the moment a woman separates one particular man -from the rest of the world in her feelings towards him--whatever -seeming those feelings may put on--the gates of the heart are thrown -open for love to ride in triumphant.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley was not experienced, however; he went to the theatre, and he -saw Veronica in one of those tragic operas where song gives intenser -voice to passion. He obeyed her instructions to the letter, for the -deep and breathless interest that he took in the scene, the thrilling -delight that the full, rich, exquisite tones of her voice produced, -left no room for that critical approbation from which springs -applause. He was near enough for her to see him as well as he saw her, -and for a moment, when their eyes first met, her voice sank and -wavered; but then it burst forth again with power only increased, and -the rapturous plaudits of all who were there present, showed that she -had that night excelled all which she had ever done before.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley waited for her coming out, and offered her his hand to lead her -to her boat. She seemed pale and fatigued; he uttered not a word of -praise or admiration, but led her on almost in silence.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You must not come to-night," she said; "I am tired and exhausted, so -I will go to bed and sleep. Come early to-morrow, we will see sights -all day, and in the evening I will have some people to meet you at -dinner whom you will like to see. Canova is here, and--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pray do not have any one," said Morley, "unless you yourself wish it. -I would rather spend the evening as we spent the last."</p> - -<p class="normal">She looked in his face by the moonlight for a moment as they stood by -the edge of the canal, and then answered, in a voice tremulous and -almost mournful, "It shall be as you like."</p> - -<p class="normal">What will you have, reader? Two, three, four, five days passed away, -and passed in the same manner. Veronica became pale and thoughtful, -Morley Ernstein agitated and apprehensive.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg no longer sneered, but sometimes looked in Morley's face, and -once laid his hand on his arm, saying--"In my course through life, -Morley, I have seen more men render themselves miserable by throwing -away happiness that was offered to them, because their vanity was -engaged in the pursuit of that which they never could obtain, than by -any other means. Morley, you know your own business best; but, I -beseech you, let no such vanity affect you, for happiness is never -offered to a man twice in life."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley made no reply, but gazed steadfastly forth upon the blue waters -before him.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER L.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">On, how often in life, when struggling with temptation, in the -darkness of error and of wrong!--oh, how often would we give the best -jewel we possess, for one ray of light to guide us back to the bright -path that we have forsaken. That light, indeed, is always to be found, -till life itself is at an end, though with more difficulty at every -step that we take onward in the darkness; for the hand of a beneficent -God has planted beacons all across the stormy sea of life, to guide us -into port, if we would look for them. But besides these--these -steadfast lights, which mark out the right track, and should keep us -ever from deviating--there are a thousand circumstances arising, -apparently, by the merest accident, which cross our course, like -wandering boats, to hail us as they sail, and tell us we have gone -astray. It is for some of these that we long when we first find -ourselves chartless, amidst the waves of error. We look not for the -beacons that guide us back, but too often gaze afar for some distant -sail to follow her in hope of help and guidance.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein leaned his head upon his hand on the morning after his -conversation with Lieberg, and, with his brain all in confusion, his -heart full of contention, he would have given all he possessed for any -little accident which would have forced him away from Venice. He was -ashamed of his own irresolution--he felt that he was hurrying on to -the destruction of a life of hopes--he felt that he could never love -but one--that his love for her--his pure, high, holy love--even in -agony and disappointment, was better, far better, than the fiery cup -of mere passion; and that though he might know delirious joys and -feverish happiness with another, yet the sorrowful memory of Juliet -Carr was worth a world of such enjoyments. But he was fascinated, the -magic spell was over him--like the glamour, which the Scotch, of old, -attributed to the gipsies,--compelling him to follow wheresoever the -charmer would. Poor Morley, however, had not to contend against his -own passions only, there were obstacles thrown in his way by others; -and though on that very morning he took the same resolution which he -had followed in Paris, to quit the place at once, yet he was prevented -from acting upon it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lieberg," he said, going down to the saloon, where breakfast waited -him, "you will think me eccentric and capricious; but I much wish to -leave Venice to-day."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay," said Lieberg, in reply, "that is scarcely possible, for me, at -least; and I think, Morley, you will not, a second time, deal so -brusquely with me, as you did in the French capital. Wait for me, only -till the day after to-morrow; and then, however wrong I may think you, -I will accompany you at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why do you think me wrong?" demanded Morley, sharply.</p> - -<p class="normal">"If I must speak the plain truth, Morley," answered Lieberg, "I think -you wrong, because I know all that has happened to you. I am aware -that you have been trifled with, deceived, made a sport of, by one who -was not worthy of you, and whose conduct you will one day see in its -proper light; and I am sure, also, that you have now within your grasp -a treasure, which would make you the envy of one half of Europe, and -that you will not take it, out of weak regard for a woman who has -parted with you, in the most cruel manner. I say you are wrong, -Morley, in point of justice to yourself, and equally so to Veronica, -for she is not one to exact from you any ties, but those of love; and -it would be less painful far to part at an after period, if you find -that you cannot be happy together, than to leave her now, when you -have taught her to fancy you everything that she has dreamt of as -forming the being for whom she could regard the whole of the rest of -the world with coldness. But you would be happy! She is too -enthusiastic and devoted, ever to lose that dream; and you would find -in her that love which alone can give you felicity, and that endless -variety which would keep up the charm to the last hour of life. -However, to-day you cannot go, for you forget you left your carriage -at Mestre, with a broken spring, and it cannot be repaired before -to-morrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">Strange, that a broken spring should have an effect which no argument -could have! Morley had hardened himself against Lieberg's persuasions; -but the broken spring gave him an excuse for staying, which was valid -to himself; and though it could hold good but for one day, that was -all Lieberg wanted. It was enough to let his words have their effect -in silence.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is unfortunate!" replied Morley; and, retiring to his own -chamber, he sent the courier to have the carriage repaired at once; -but in the meanwhile he thought of all that Lieberg had said, and -dressed himself hastily, to go to the house of Veronica.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was one point rested on his mind, more than all the rest of -Lieberg's persuasions. He had alluded to the conduct of Juliet Carr, -almost in the same terms which had been used by Harry Martin. Indeed -the latter had never mentioned Juliet's name; but an eager and -impetuous character, like that of Morley Ernstein, always applies what -others say vaguely, to the subject most interesting to itself at the -time.</p> - -<p class="normal">On this point, then, he paused, and pondered with exactly the same -train of thought which Lieberg could have desired, asking himself--"Is -it, then, true? Is it, then, self-evident to everybody but myself, -that my feelings have been sported with, my heart trampled upon, my -love despised, and rejected without reason, without cause? And shall I -cast away my chance of happiness with another, on the account of one -who so treats me?" But then, again, came the question--had he that -chance of happiness with another? Did that fascinating being really -love him? Was he not deceiving himself, in reading all that was -strange and peculiar in her manner as marks of a growing feeling new -to her heart?</p> - -<p class="normal">With confusion of mind and thought hardly describable, Morley buried -his eyes in his hands, as if to let the troubled current of ideas work -itself clear. But it was in vain he did so, and finishing his toilette -hastily, he snatched up his hat, and issued forth. In a few minutes -the gondola glided up to the steps of Veronica's house, the door -opened to admit him, the servant did not even go on to announce him. -All spoke as plainly as signs can speak, that he was regarded in that -dwelling as no other person was regarded; that he was one and alone in -the favour of its mistress, and that her feelings spread themselves -around to her dependents.</p> - -<p class="normal">He went on up the stairs, then, with a quick step, and a beating -heart; but as he did so, in passing the window of an ante-room, that -overhung one of the canals, there was the gliding rush of a gondola -through the water below, and voices speaking as the boat was pushed -along. It was Italian they were talking; but one sweet voice was very -like that of Juliet Carr, and Morley paused, and trembled. Reader, -though he was fascinated and attracted, though admiration and -regard--ay, and passion, had each its share, Morley Ernstein did not -love Veronica--he could think of another at a moment like that, and he -did not love Veronica!</p> - -<p class="normal">He heard her move in the next chamber, however, and went on. She was -paler than usual, but her paleness was not a defect, but rather the -contrary. She looked beautiful, though she was not beautiful, and her -dark resplendent eyes were full of soul and life; while over the whole -of the rest of her face, and of her exquisite figure, there was an air -of languor that contrasted strangely, but finely, with the light and -fire of those dark orbs.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have been long this morning," she said, in a voice, every tone of -which was music. "Why have you come so late?--You are agitated, too;" -and she gazed in his face for a moment, while similar and still -greater agitation took possession of her whole frame. Her eyes -gradually sank to the ground, her cheek became crimson, her hand -trembled in his, her whole form shook in every limb. Morley felt that -she was sinking, and, catching her in his arms, he supported her to -the sofa, at the other side of the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Veronica!" he said--"Veronica! what is this?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ask me not--ask me not!" she replied, putting away his hand, and -covering her own eyes. "Ask me nothing, Morley. Tear not away the veil -from my own sight. Make me not own that I have deceived you--that I -have deceived myself. Oh! leave me, leave me, and forget me!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley tried to soothe her, but it was in vain; Veronica burst into a -passion of tears, and though she left her hand in his, when he took it -she answered him not.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus it continued for some time; Morley remained more than an hour -with her, and it were useless to attempt to describe all that took -place, impossible to detail all that was said. Neither of them knew -what they had uttered when they parted, but the method of their -parting was somewhat strange. Veronica had become calmer, she had even -given to Morley Ernstein the first caress of affection that her lips -had ever bestowed upon mortal man. But whether it was that remorse and -regret even then, like a serpent only half hidden by the roses, -suffered itself, in some vague and shadowy manner, to appear in word, -or look, or action, I cannot tell; Veronica suddenly started away, and -clasped her hands together, exclaiming--"I thought you long, but you -are come too soon! I thought you were here seldom, but you have been -here too often!--Oh, Morley, Morley! leave me now, I beseech you. -Leave me to thought, leave me to reflection!--I will write to you--I -will send to you. Fear not!" she continued seeing a look of pain come -over his countenance; "I will never make you unhappy; but I would only -have time for thought--I would only act calmly--it shall be at your -own choice. Everything shall be at your will; but if you come to me -again, you come for ever.--Leave, leave me, now;--if I say more, I -shall die."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley left her, and strange and great was the agitation in his heart, -as he cast himself again into the gondola, and the boat rowed away.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was gliding rapidly up the great canal, when suddenly it passed one -of those large boats, used by the Venetian government to carry -strangers to and from Venice, in communication with the post-houses of -Mestre and Fusina. It was filled with people, and rowed by several -men. There were English liveries, and English faces in it, and in the -principal part appeared a group, which, at any other time, would have -attracted Morley's attention instantly. As it was, it was only when -the boat was shooting fast past his own, that the countenance of -Juliet Carr burst upon his sight, and was gone again in a moment.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stop, stop!" he cried to his own boatman. "Where is that boat going? -Follow it quick!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is going to Mestre, sir," replied the man. "We can never catch it. -They are going to join the post-horses, and will be gone before we -arrive."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ten sequins, if you come up in time!" said Morley; and away the boat -flew over the waters, like a bird.</p> - -<p class="normal">The moments seemed dreadfully long; but what is there that gold will -not do? Mestre was at length in sight, Morley's foot was upon the -shore, and darting at once to the inn--which so many readers will -recollect as a mere hotel for empty carriages--he gazed round for the -party, which must have arrived only a few minutes before him. There -were two chariots standing before the door, with horses attached to -them, ready for departure, and servants lingering round, as if all -were concluded in the way of packing, and nothing remained but for -their masters to appear, ere the vehicles rolled away. Before Morley -could enter the inn there were voices on the stairs, and the face of -Juliet Carr herself appeared, with several others, in the doorway. It -was as beautiful as ever, but somewhat pale, and there was a listless -sadness in the expression, which spoke to Morley's heart, and told him -that the spirit within could find no satisfaction in sporting with the -feelings of him who loved her. Morley strove to be calm, to collect -his thoughts, to tranquillize his demeanour; but every one must know -how vain are such efforts at such a moment.</p> - -<p class="normal">He advanced straight towards her, however, and took her hand, while -the first expression that passed over her countenance, was that of -pleasure, succeeded suddenly by that painful shadow which their mutual -situation naturally produced.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must speak with you, for a few minutes, Juliet," he said, heeding -nobody, seeing nobody but her. "You must not refuse me; for there is -much at stake."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will not," replied Juliet, in a low and agitated tone; "I will -never refuse you that which you have every right to ask, and I know -you will never ask anything but what is right. Wait one moment. Let me -speak a word to Lord Clavering, and I will be back."</p> - -<p class="normal">She took a step or two forward, to the group of persons who apparently -had gone on in order not to interrupt a conversation which all must -have seen was one of no slight interest; and for about a minute Morley -remained, gazing down upon the ground, with thoughts and feelings -agitated almost to madness. He now learned, with agony, how different -is love and passion, as his heart was torn between the ties that -chained him to Veronica, and the higher attachment that bound him to -Juliet Carr. He might have stood there for an hour, swallowed up in -his own sensations, had not Juliet returned, saying, in a low and -tender voice--"Now, Morley--now!"</p> - -<p class="normal">She led the way, and he followed, to the saloon upon the first floor, -where her party had been waiting till the carriages were ready, and -there she paused, supporting herself with her hand upon one of the -tables, and gazing with her tender, speaking eyes, upon Morley's face. -with a look almost approaching to apprehension.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Juliet!" he said, after a moment's hesitation--"Juliet! you owe me -some explanation. Let me know whether you are sporting with a heart -that loves you, for your own gratification, or at the dictates of -others?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, Morley!" she exclaimed, her eyes filling with tears; "do I hear -such words from you? Are you not sure--do you not see, that I am as -wretched as you can be?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then why, Juliet--why?" he demanded; "what is the obstacle? What is -the motive that should make you not only cast away your happiness, but -mine--mine, which was trusted entirely to your keeping, with the most -boundless confidence? If you can assign no motive, I claim you as my -own, by every tie, by every right--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay," she said--"not so, Morley! I conceal not that I love you -deeply, truly; but it must be told--I am bound, Morley, by an oath, I -am bound, by a promise which I cannot, which I dare not break, and -must fulfil to the letter, though it condemns me to sorrow and despair -through life!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Juliet," replied her lover, in a tone now calm, but calm with -despair--"I one time fancied that you would be my guardian angel; that -you would form my blessing; that you would be the light of my home, -the guide of my footsteps; would cure me of all that was weak or wrong -in my nature; would prove at once my safeguard and my happiness. How -have I deceived myself! You have taken from me peace; you have -deprived me of hope; you leave me without object or expectation in -life; you withdraw from me all motive for virtue; you plunge me into -degradation and vice!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet had turned very pale, and trembled as Morley spoke; but as he -went on to tell her too truly the state of mind to which he was -reduced, and the peril in which he stood, agitation overcame all -habits; she sank upon her knees before him, and clasped his hand -eagerly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no!" she cried, "oh, no!--I am very, very miserable! Morley, save -me from that despair--save me from the dreadful thought that I have -debased as fine a spirit as ever God sent for trial on this earth. -Morley--dear Morley, believe that I am not in fault; and oh, in pity, -if ever you loved Juliet Carr, yield not to evil, but conquer it, as -we are told to do, with good!--Have compassion upon me, Morley, and do -not, in addition to all the wretchedness that has fallen upon my -head--in addition to the bitter, the everlasting disappointment of my -first and only affections--do not give me the undying agony of -thinking that he whom I have ever loved has cast away his fair name, -and blasted his heart and spirit with evil, on account of this our -sorrow. Promise me, Morley--promise me, at least, to try--promise to -resist to the utmost. Nay, nay, I will kneel here till you do promise; -I will kneel--I will die, Morley, at your feet, sooner than that you -should leave me with such thoughts and purposes as you but now -entertained. Will you--will you promise me? When this poor heart is -broken, you will then believe and understand all that I feel--nay, -strive not to raise me, unless you give me that promise."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, Juliet--well, I do," said Morley Ernstein; "but you know not -how I am beset."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! if you would but forget me," replied Juliet, "happiness might yet -be yours;--every happiness that you have dreamt of with me might be -yours with another. I know it, Morley--I am sure of it; and Juliet -Carr would bless the woman who, as the wife of Morley Ernstein, would -fulfil that vision of peace, and goodness, and delight, in which she -herself must not share. Oh, that I might say all I know and all I -think!--but I must not. Yet the time will, I trust, come ere long, -when your own eyes will be opened to qualities far superior to any -that I possess, and that you will at length find peace and affection -with one upon whom there is no restraint, who can and will--perhaps -<i>does</i> love you, even now."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley shook his head sadly, but without reply. After a moment's -pause, there was a voice calling from below for Juliet.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do not go!" he exclaimed, catching her hand--"do not go!"</p> - -<p class="normal">But she withdrew herself gently from him, saying--"I have your -promise! Oh, forget not that you have given your promise!" and with -those words she left him.</p> - -<p class="normal">In about an hour, Morley Ernstein came down slowly to the courtyard of -the inn; but during the interval he had hardily heard one of all the -many sounds in that abode of noise, or seen any object but the forms -of his own imagination, though several persons had come in and out of -the room while he was there. His face when he descended was pale and -stern, but there was no longer that absent air about him with which he -had remained standing so long in the midst of the saloon above. He -looked round the court as he came down the stairs, and amongst the -first persons on whom his eye rested, was his own courier, and his old -servant, Adam Gray; the one examining his carriage with a blacksmith, -the other gazing up towards the windows of the inn, with a face -anxious and sorrowful. After speaking a few words, and giving some -directions to both, Morley re-entered his boat, and was rowed slowly -back to Venice. A slight wind curled the waters of the lagune, and the -undulating motion of the boat seemed to soothe him, and to -tranquillize thoughts that were in themselves but too turbulent.</p> - -<p class="normal">But his brief conversation with Juliet Carr had produced the effect it -always had upon his mind. There was a magic in the soft melody of her -voice, in the pure, spirit-like light of her eyes, in the grace that -pervaded her every gesture which his heart could never resist; and -there was still greater power over him, in that tone of high truth and -deep sincerity which was felt in all her words and looks. He might -think others beautiful when she was not near; but their beauty faded -away like stars before the sun, as soon as he saw her. He might doubt -others, but when he heard her speak, he could as soon have doubted -truth itself as Juliet Carr.</p> - -<p class="normal">As soon as the first terrible agitation was over, although he felt -more strongly than ever that the flower of happiness was utterly -blighted, that, root and branch, it was withered away, yet her -presence and her words had awakened the higher and the holier spirit -in his heart once more, even in the midst of sorrow and despair. The -passions of earth lost their light and their importance in his eyes; -mere material things, and the joys that they bring with them, became -at once to his sight the ephemera that they really are, and principles -and feelings assumed their place, as the only imperishable possessions -of man. It was as if, for a brief space, he had passed the grave, and -had been enabled to see and judge all that this world contains, as, -perhaps, we may see and judge it hereafter.</p> - -<p class="normal">Dark and sad had indeed become his sensations, but the purpose of -right was strong within him, and he now turned his mind to consider -what he ought to do, how he ought to act. He had a duty to Veronica to -perform as well as to himself, and steadfastly he resolved to execute -it. It is true that she had aided to deceive him, as to what her own -feelings might be, and that he also had deceived himself; but he could -not wholly exculpate himself of all that had ensued. He had gone on -after he felt the danger to himself and her; he had proceeded when he -knew that it was wrong to proceed, and he prepared to bear the -consequences, whatever those consequences might be, provided they -implied no guilt or dishonour. It took him long to think of all these -matters, reader; but as the boat slowly wended its way back to -Danielli's, he had time for thought, and when he entered the door of -the inn, his mind was fully made up as to his future conduct. He would -be true and honest; he would deal with Veronica without a concealment, -without reserve; he would tell her all, and leave her to decide his -fate and her own. Already, he thought, that fate might be sealed; she -had promised to write to him, and the letter might be now waiting -which would determine all. On enquiry, he found that such was not the -case, and he at once sat down to take that step on which his future -destiny hung.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER LI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">MORLEY ERNSTEIN TO VERONICA PLATESI.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You promised to write to me, and you have not done it. Had you -written, ere this time, your fate and mine would have been decided for -life. But you have hesitated, and it is evident that there is a -struggle in your mind as well as in my own. I therefore take the task -upon myself of opening to you my heart's inmost feelings, and shewing -you what must be the future, as far as my eyes can discover it. We -have both, I fear, Veronica, deceived ourselves, and unconsciously may -have deceived each other. You were confident in the impunity which you -have hitherto enjoyed, and thought that love could never assail you. I -felt equally secure in the memory of a deep and permanent, though -disappointed passion, and believed that I could never be sufficiently -attracted towards any woman, to seek or to win her affection. You -thought I was sufficiently warned by the words you have more than once -spoken, and I believed you to be steeled against love, or incapable of -feeling. Let us first forgive each other for having mutually deceived -one another, and then let me offer you all that I have to offer, and -ask if it can make you happy. I have heard you speak rash words in -regard to marriage, but I will believe that they were spoken more in -sport than earnest, and put them aside altogether, for you must be -mine by ties we can both respect, or not at all. I offer you, then, my -hand and my name; I offer you the tenderest affection; and I promise -you that, as my wife, you shall never have to call yourself 'a slave.' -But at the same time, dear Veronica, I cannot but tell you that the -first freshness of my heart has been given to another--that I have -loved as man only loves once. I leave it to you to decide whether you -can be satisfied with less. Every devotion, every tenderness, every -affection, shall be yours, that it is possible for my heart to feel; -but still I have loved deeply, passionately, entirely, and though the -dream is gone for ever, its memory will always endure. It is for your -voice to pronounce upon our fate. If you do not like to write at -length, tell me to come to you, and I will conceive your answer given. -At all events, trust to me as a man of honour, that if you become my -wife, my whole days thenceforward shall be devoted to forget all -others, and make you happy.</p> - -<p style="text-indent:50%">"<span class="sc">Morley Ernstein</span>."</p> - -<br> -<p class="normal">He sealed the letter and sent it; and then, burying his face in his -hands, remained for some time in deep and anxious thought. Hour after -hour passed, and there was no answer, till, as night drew nigh, he -became apprehensive, and went to the well-known dwelling where he had -spent so many hours of excitement and temptation. The door no longer -opened as if to a master, and the servant, in answer to his questions, -said that his mistress was unwell. Morley sent in his name, but -Veronica's answer was, that she would write to him. It was not till -the following morning that the letter arrived.</p> - -<p class="center"><b>FROM VERONICA PRATESI TO MORLEY ERNSTEIN.</b></p> - -<p class="normal">"No man ever understands a woman's heart. It never has been, and never -will be. The language written in that book is unknown to you all, and -you attempt to read it in vain. I did not write to you, my friend--not -because there was any struggle in my bosom, for the struggle was -over--but I was impeded by feelings you cannot comprehend, for man can -never understand what it is to woman to own that she loves for the -first time. Such was the task before me if I had written before your -letter reached me, and it seemed then a terrible one, when I fancied -that a life of joy and happiness was to follow. Such is the task -before me still, even now that I know all your feelings, and see the -wide extent of misery into which I have plunged. And yet, strange to -say, it is less difficult to confess that I do love, when, coupled -with that acknowledgment, I have to bid you quit me for ever.</p> - -<p class="normal">"When your letter first reached me, Morley, disappointment and agony -of mind made me unjust. I was angry with you who have in no way -offended, rather than with myself on whom the whole blame must justly -rest. I called your words cold, unfeeling, base. But I soon -recollected what might have been the result if you had really been -base and unfeeling--if, instead of offering me your hand while you -nobly confessed the state of your heart, you had taken advantage of my -passions and my prejudices, made me the paramour of a few months or -years, and then cast me away like a worn garment. My mind soon did you -justice, and owned that you were generous, true, sincere--all that it -is proud to love, and agony to part with. But, Morley, then came the -greatest temptation of all. Weak, weak woman that I am! A voice within -me whispered--Accept his offer, use every means of pleasing, put -forth every effort, twine yourself round his heart with every binding -tie, make yourself necessary to the joy of every hour--become a -wife--Oh, Heaven! perhaps become a mother!--and honour, and virtue, -and gratitude, will all combine to win for you that love which is now -necessary to your existence! Oh, Morley, what a terrible temptation -was there! How vanity flattered, and passion persuaded, and -selfishness deceived! But I conquered at length. I love you--and yet -will never see you more. Never, unless--yes, there is yet one hope -left me!--I cannot, I will not share one thought of your heart--one -remembrance with any woman, on the face of earth; but with the dead I -am not so miserly. If the grave have closed over this affection--if -your memoried love be with some saint in heaven, come to me--come to -me, dear Morley! I will soothe, I will comfort, I will console you! We -will weep together over the tomb of her who is gone, and when I strive -to cheer each hour of your existence, I will think of her and redouble -every effort. But if the air of this earth be still breathed by her -who has taken your love from me, adieu, for ever!</p> - -<p style="text-indent:70%">"<span class="sc">Veronica</span>." - - -<p class="center"><b>MORLEY ERNSTEIN TO VERONICA PRATESI.</b></p> - -<p class="normal">"Alas, Veronica, that I should add pain to pain! Had my heart been -with the dead I would have told you so at once. But still I must not -deceive you; it is not so. She whom I have so deeply loved still -lives, and her own will is the only barrier between us. Such is the -plain truth.</p> - -<p style="text-indent:70%">"<span class="sc">"Morley Ernstein</span>."</p> - -<br> -<p class="normal">Morley was not kept long in the faint suspense that still remained -after he had written the last sentences. Ere half an hour was over, a -note was brought him containing those few sad words, "Adieu, for -ever!"</p> - -<p class="normal">In two hours more, he and Lieberg were once more rolling on upon their -way towards Bologna, Morley bearing with him some regret and much -grief; but so far happy that he could lay his hand upon his heart, and -say--"Though I may have erred in the commencement of this sad affair, -in the end I have done right."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER LII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">If Angerona, the secret divinity said to have presided over -the fate -of ancient Rome, could hear the many barbarous and unromantic names of -inns, the Isles Britanniques, the Hotel de l'Europe, the Ville de -Paris, etc., which are daily vociferated in the ancient capital of -empires, doubtless her ears would be more offended than were told, -they were formerly, on any one pronouncing her own harmonious title. -It was to the principal hospitium, however, in the Piazza di Spagna, -that the carriages of Count Lieberg and Sir Morley Ernstein took their -way in the middle of one of those winter months when Rome is fullest. -The streets were crowded with vehicles of all kinds, as the travelling -companions passed along; and so many fair English faces were to be -seen in every direction, that it was difficult for them not to believe -themselves in that part of Bond-street, where, at about four o'clock -of the day, during five months of the year, there seems to be an -inextricable impediment to the advance or retreat of any sort of -carriage whatsoever.</p> - -<p class="normal">The first order to their respective couriers, given both by Morley -Ernstein and Lieberg after they had taken seizin of their apartments, -was to proceed to the post-office and enquire for their letters. -Lieberg, indeed, seemed the most anxious, and it is to be remarked. -that he had kept up with England a much more constant and regular -correspondence than his friend.</p> - -<p class="normal">During the couriers' absence, however, the two comrades occupied -themselves in different ways, according to their several characters -and habits. Lieberg, with that regular attention to his own comfort -which never deserted him, proceeded to arrange the rooms, of which he -took possession, with scrupulous care of their neatness, grace, and -convenience. His books were assigned to their particular station; -trinkets and ornaments took their place upon one table; implements for -writing and drawing were laid upon another; a few small miniature -pictures of faces pleasant to the eye were displayed where they could -be seen in the best light, and, in short, in half-an-hour the room -looked as different as possible from that which it was when he entered -it, and represented as nearly as can be conceived the interior of his -lodging in Sackville-street.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein, on the contrary, walked up and down the saloon, which -was common to both their apartments, with eyes fixed upon the ground, -and a sad and pensive brow. He was arranging the chamber of his own -breast while Lieberg was busy with the contents of his carriage, and -the agitation of all his feelings was too great to admit of his -attending to other things.</p> - -<p class="normal">It may be asked, then, if Lieberg--whose passions I have represented -as intense and strong, and whose keen and active mind was always in -movement--if he had no thoughts to occupy him as well as his -companion. Yes, reader, he had; and busy were those thoughts all the -time, but their activity interrupted nothing else, for there were no -contending emotions in his breast--there was no struggle there between -good and evil--no regret for aught that had passed--no hesitation in -regard to what was to come. It is only when feeling rises up to war -with feeling, when principles combat passions, and when, from the -great battle-field of the present, our fugitive thoughts fly from both -hosts of good and evil into the wide surrounding country of the past -and the future, and struggle as they run--it is only then, I say, -that, taken up entirely with the strife within, man can attend but -little to the idle things without.</p> - -<p class="normal">What were Morley's sensations the reader may well divine. It is true, -no new event of any importance had occurred to grieve or agitate him; -but every one must have felt, when any abiding sorrow is at the heart, -how a fresh scene will sometimes rouse it, as if from sleep, and with -it all its host of painful memories.</p> - -<p class="normal">In about half-an-hour the courier returned with the letters. There -were several to each of the gentlemen; but the two or three first that -each of them opened, seemed to excite very little interest, for they -were read carelessly, in one instance, eliciting a passing smile, in -another, a momentary look of thought, and then cast aside. At length, -however, Lieberg came to one which brought a dark look of triumph upon -his handsome features; and after reading it twice, he folded it -carefully up and put it by, turning his bright dark eyes slowly to the -countenance of Morley, who now stood in one of the windows, perusing -with anxious attention a long letter of several sheets. The young -Englishman's brow was contracted, his lip was curled, his eye -straining on the paper. When he had read one sheet he re-read it, and -then glanced more rapidly over the second and third which seemed to be -written in another hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">But we must turn to the first sheet, and give the reader some account -of its contents. It was addressed to Morley by his guardian, Mr. -Hamilton, and conveyed some of the most unpleasant tidings that could -meet his eye, as far as his pecuniary affairs were concerned.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My dear Morley (the letter said), I am distressed not to know exactly -where to find you, as I have to write to you on business of a very -urgent nature. I shall, however, address this letter to Rome, trusting -that you may receive it ere long. A fortnight ago I received what I -then considered a very extraordinary application from a solicitor, -informing me that a bill in chancery was about to be filed against you -immediately, for the recovery of the estate of Warmstone Castle, your -title to which he maintained to be bad. At first I felt inclined to -treat the affair with contempt, but upon this legal gentleman calling -upon me again, I saw him, and found that several eminent lawyers had -been engaged in the affair, and consequently that it was more serious -than I at first imagined. At the same time there was a degree of -fairness about the tone of the opposite party, which induced me to -meet them in the same manner, and I have had two interviews with all -the parties in which I find they ground their claim upon the following -assertions. You are aware, I dare say, that your father became -possessed of Warmstone by purchase from a Mr. Barham. The sum given -was ninety-three thousand pounds, and the title at the time seemed -perfectly good. A will, however, and deed of settlement is now -produced, showing that this Mr. Barham did not succeed to the estate -as his father's direct heir, but under this will and settlement, by -which the estate was strictly tied up. The father left but one son, -indeed, the person who sold the estate to your father, but that son at -the time the will was signed was married and had a child, and the will -strictly limits the estate to that child and his children, appointing -in a diffuse manner certain contingent provisions for younger -children, with which we have nothing to do. The youth who now claims -the property is the grandson of the person who sold the estate to your -father, and the papers necessary to prove his claim were discovered, I -hear, by a Mr. Carr, with whom I well remember your father once had a -severe dispute concerning what he believed to be a very nefarious -transaction in which poor Lady Malcolm suffered severely. Thus, as the -character of the finder of this document is undoubtedly very bad, and -the young man himself not the most prepossessing person in the world, -I naturally concluded that the will might be manufactured. The parties -gave me every opportunity of examining the document with my own lawyer -and yours; and your friend, Mr. Wills, whose eyes you know are very -sharp where your interests are concerned, remembered that there is an -old clerk still living who belonged to the house, the name of which is -upon one of the documents. This clerk, after some difficulty, was -discovered, and, I am sorry to say, he remembers distinctly having -seen the will itself, when it was submitted on some legal point to the -house with which he served his time. I have at once caused the whole -case to be laid before the highest legal authorities, and send you -their opinion. You will see that they believe you could keep the -claimants out of the estate for years, but must yield at last, as the -case is quite clear. It is for you to decide; but I think I know how -you will act. The worst part of the whole, however, is still to be -told: the estate has been in possession of your family for thirty -years, and though the fault lies not with you or yours, but in the -fraudulent conduct of the man who sold it, you are held to be -responsible for all the rents which have been received, and which now -amount to more than a hundred and fifty thousand pounds. You would -recover the ninety-three thousand pounds with interest, if the man who -sold the estate had left any effects; but the present claimant comes -in as heir of entail, and his grandfather who illegally sold the -estate died in poverty. Perhaps a composition may be entered into in -regard to these back rents, and, at all events, we must obtain time -for the payment, as, I believe, that after the purchase of the small -estate in Sussex, there remained no more of the guardianship account -than fifty thousand pounds, and it would take ten years of the whole -rents of the Morley Court property to clear off the sum still unpaid. -Unauthorized by you, I have of course not been able to act; but I beg -of you to write to me at once, giving me your own views."</p> - -<p class="normal">The banker went on to consider the subject in various ways, but the -terrible fact remained, that one estate was virtually gone, another -deeply encumbered, and that all the long and careful savings of his -minority were to be swept away at once.</p> - -<p class="normal">What was the effect upon Morley Ernstein? Very different from that -which might be supposed. The first blow was undoubtedly startling; he -looked round like one bewildered; re-read what Mr. Hamilton had -written; and then turning to the legal opinions inclosed, perused them -accurately. They confirmed but too fully the account which his banker -had given, and Morley Ernstein made up his mind in an instant. After -the first stunning effect of the intelligence was over, it seemed to -give him strength and energy; and merely telling Lieberg that he must -instantly answer the letter he had received, he quitted the room, sent -for his writing-desk, and applied himself busily, and with a steadfast -mind, to put down, in a letter to Mr. Hamilton, the resolutions which -he had immediately taken.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My dear Mr. Hamilton," he said, "I will never defend an untenable -cause. The present case is one in which it is very difficult, if not -impossible, for the law to deal justly with both parties, and proves -the utter absurdity of the axiom, which we hear so continually -repeated by lawyers, that according to English law there is no wrong -without a remedy. A notorious and shameful fraud was evidently -committed in the sale of the Warmstone estate to my father, and in the -concealment of the entail. The law has now only to judge which must -suffer--myself, or the persons on whom it was entailed. Perhaps it is -right that I should be the victim; but, at all events, a wrong is done -and suffered somewhere. You have my full authority to concede the -whole question, to give up Warmstone to the rightful owners, and to -make the best arrangement that you can for paying the back rents with -as little inconvenience as possible. All that I have in the funds must -be immediately sold out for that purpose; but you say that there will -still remain about a hundred thousand pounds to be paid. Morley Court -I will part with on no account--not an acre of it; and the other -little estate in Sussex, if sold, would still be but a drop of water -in the ocean. What I propose, then, is this: immediately to cut off -every superfluous expense, and to live as so many do, comfortably and -happily upon the rents of the Sussex estate--seven hundred and thirty -pounds per annum, I think we made it. This is not poverty, my dear -sir, though the change is certainly great to me, but still I can -endure it without a murmur. The Morley Court estate I propose to place -immediately in the hands of trustees, for the purpose of paying off -the debt. In the first place, the house and grounds must be kept up in -the most thorough repair; the game must be properly protected; none of -the old servants or labourers must be discharged. I would rather -deprive myself of every superfluity than such should be the case. As -near as I can recollect, not having my accounts with me, these charges -amount to about eleven hundred per annum. That paid, there will still -remain between nine and ten thousand per annum, to discharge the -amount now claimed, and in eleven years it will be done. I have a -considerable sum with me here, in money and letters of credit; but -there are various things to be paid, some old people and pensioners to -be provided for, and thus I shall soon get through that which I have. -I think these proposals are so fair that they will not be refused, -especially if by any chance one of those extraordinary coincidences, -which sometimes cross us in life, has occurred in this instance, as I -am led to suspect by some words in your letter. Is the young man you -mention a fair-haired, pale-faced lad, with a look of sickly -dissipation about him? If so, I rather imagine I once saved him from -the gallows, and it is his sister, in regard to whom I wrote you a -long epistle. Shakspeare says that our bad deeds turn round and whip -us; but it would seem that our good deeds do so too, if I am to lose -almost all I possess in consequence of having interposed between this -youth and destruction. I am sorry to say that owing to the uncertain -course I have pursued, your letter has been lying here for two -months;"--and Morley went on to enter into the details of the changes -he intended to make in his own mode of living, and to give directions -for all the necessary papers to be forwarded for his signature as -speedily as possible. When he had concluded, he returned to the -saloon, where he found Lieberg seated near one of the windows, gazing -forth in meditation.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am afraid, Morley," said the latter, as soon as he heard his -friend's step, "that you have had bad tidings from England."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have," replied Morley. "You are a strange reader of human -countenances, Lieberg. I thought I had guarded mine so carefully that -no emotion could be apparent."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is my belief," rejoined Lieberg, "that everything that seems -extraordinary may be accounted for with the most perfect ease; so that -there is not a miracle, from the creation of this world down to -Aaron's voracious walking-stick, which ate up the walking-sticks of -all the Egyptians, that could be explained to us in a single word, -only that poor fool Eve, after having eaten half the apple, stopped -short in a fright, and was not wise enough to make even one good meal -of the tree of knowledge. See how everything that we think strange -becomes ridiculously simple when it is explained. You judge me a great -reader of countenances; now, I never looked at your face at all, but -merely read my letters while you read yours, and there found news -which of course has reached you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That I have lost a considerable property," replied Morley, "and have -to pay back rents to an immense amount."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And are you aware to whom?" demanded Lieberg.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I suppose, from the similarity of the name, and from the description -of my friend, Mr. Hamilton," Morley answered, "it is to that William -Barham of whom you and I know a good deal."</p> - -<p class="normal">"To be sure," rejoined Lieberg, with his eye flashing; "I felt certain -that something of the kind would happen at the time."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" exclaimed Morley, with much surprise; "how so?--why so?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because," replied Lieberg, with his lip curling, "I never saw a man -caress a scorpion, or put a viper in his bosom, that, sooner or later, -he was not stung. Would to God I had hanged him!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am much obliged to you for your kind interest," replied Morley, -with a melancholy smile; "but if the thing was destined to happen at -all, I am well pleased that it is as it is--not for the sake of that -weak and vicious young knave, but for his sweet sister's sake. -He will only use his fortune ill; but she will, of course, come in for -a part, and thus be placed in a station for which she was evidently -intended by Heaven. But now, Lieberg, let us speak of something more -immediate. I am sorry to say our companionship must soon end, as I -have assigned the greater part of my property to pay off this -unexpected debt, retaining to myself not more than seven hundred -a-year; all my expenses must, of course, be curtailed, and I can no -longer afford to travel in the way that befits you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nonsense, Morley," replied his companion; "you can very easily reduce -your expenditure to the scale required, without depriving me of the -pleasure of your society, or yourself of the gratification and -advantage of travelling with so pleasant and instructive a companion -as myself. You can diminish your whole host of lackeys, send your old -grey-headed friend to England, and keep the most useful of your men. -Get rid of your courier, in the very first place, both because you -don't want him, one being quite enough for you and I; and, secondly, -because he is a very bad one, while mine is the best that ever cheated -a master, bullied an innkeeper, defrauded a postilion, or gave a hint -to a bandit. Then, as for the rest, we need not travel more rapidly -than suits your purse; you shall pay for whatever additional horses -are necessary to my carriage, in consequence of your being with me, -but, of course, no more; and, I can assure you, all this may be done -upon even less than you propose. Try, at least,--try for a few months! -If you refuse to do so, I shall conceive that you take advantage of -this circumstance to draw off your forces."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley felt that he could not refuse to make the experiment, though he -certainly had misgivings; but he steadfastly and strictly held his -resolution of curtailing all his expenses, from that very moment. He -explained to his servants, that he had met with a severe loss, and -though a younger and more active attendant might have been preferable, -in many respects, yet he retained no one about his person, but old -Adam Clay, knowing that the good man would feel pained not to serve -him, even though he were to pension him off, and leave him to spend -his latter days in peace. His carriage he immediately ordered to be -sold, and for want of knowledge how far his limited income would go, -denied himself, at first, many an indulgence which he could very well -afford. He divided his expenses into weeks, and almost into days, and -bound himself down to all those small and narrow economies which are -always a painful thing to a generous mind, and are only to be -compensated by the internal satisfaction of doing that which is just -and right.</p> - -<p class="normal">Upon the whole, the circumstances in which he was so suddenly placed, -proved beneficial to the heart of Morley Ernstein. He had other -subjects for thought given him, besides the bitter disappointment -which he had endured. He had now matter for activity, energy, -determination, self-denial. He had to keep his spirit from repining at -petty evils, he had often to struggle with his inclinations upon small -points, and that habit gave him power to strive more successfully on -greater occasions.</p> - -<p class="normal">The conduct of Lieberg towards him was, apparently, all that was kind. -At first, while he knew that the weight which had been suddenly cast -upon his young friend, had produced a great reaction of the mind, he -tempted him in no degree to go beyond the limits of a strict economy; -but as the immediate effect wore away, he certainly did cast -inducements in his companion's path, to spend money which might have -been spared. Two or three times, too, when tempted suddenly, Morley -forgot his altered circumstances, and yielded without consideration. -He bought things that were unnecessary, he gave an order which he was -sorry for but would not rescind; and Lieberg with pleasure saw a -probability of leading him to overstep the bounds of the income he had -left himself, and plunging him into difficulties which might bring on -more false steps to remedy.</p> - -<p class="normal">For the present, however, Morley was safe; for the sum which he had -brought with him from England, was so much larger than he required, on -his reduced scale of expenditure, that he could fall back upon it at -any moment, though he did so with regret.</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus passed a month in Rome; and though Morley Ernstein often thought -of Juliet Carr, and wondered whether she was or was not in the same -town with himself, he met her not in public or in private, while the -period of his stay in Rome wore rapidly away.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER LIII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">In early youth there are pleasures in all seasons of the year; -and as -the schoolboy-story goes, it is difficult to choose between the -glowing summer, with its brightness and its smiles--the sweet spring, -with its soft breezes and its flowers--the brown autumn, with its -fruits, and days of harvest--and the hardy winter, with its sports, -and merry nights. But, believe me, reader, as one advances in life, -the days that we would choose are always warm ones; and putting the -brighter season of the year out of the question, the only difficulty -is, to say which is most grateful; that brief return of summer-like -hours, which generally takes place in the commencement of -November--like that return of prosperity towards the end of life, -which sometimes brightens the fate of men who have long struggled with -adversity; or the burst of warmth and sunshine, which often, in the -early spring, forestalls the summer--like the splendid vision of a -great and glorious career which presents itself in hours of meditation -to the unchastised eyes of youth.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was in the end of February, however, with days warmer than many in -June, with a balmy air, and a clear sky, that some travellers, with -whom the reader is already well acquainted, took their way as nearly -as possible by the same course that Morley Ernstein had pursued -towards the classic land, in which he was now sojourning.</p> - -<p class="normal">Nor let it seem strange, and romance-like, or make any one doubt the -accuracy of this true history, that three parties of people, without -any common consent amongst them, are here represented taking exactly -the same path to a particular object, when there were five or six -other roads open before them. Ay, but, dear reader, it is the very -question which you are begging. If you remember rightly, at the period -of which we are now speaking, a tremendous storm had swept the Alps, -greatly injuring two of the principal passages; the Splugen was -impassable, neither of the St. Bernards could be thought of, either -very late or very early in the year; and Mont Cenis could only be -passed in traineaux; but the Brenner was, and is passable, and -convenient at all seasons, though sometimes the traveller is very cold -before he gets at it. The convenience of this passage, especially to -an invalid, in the early month of which we speak, was the cause why it -was chosen by the party, to whom we now return; for one of that party -was an invalid.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was on one of those warm days of February, then, which generally -brighten a part of the coldest season of the year, that a splendid -green chariot, quite new, with much more silver about it than was in -good taste--with a courier behind, dressed out to the highest pitch of -courierism--and a lady's maid, of a very different appearance, neat, -plain, and staid--drove along one of the roads that traverse the Black -Forest, taking its way towards the small town of Schaffhausen. The -vehicle was nevertheless at the distance of several leagues from that -place; and, as it ascended one of the tall hills which diversify that -part of the country, a wide extent of forest ground was displayed to -the eye, undulating into all the most beautiful forms, with the yellow -sun resting upon the bare, leafless branches of that ocean of trees, -which.--although not a bud could be perceived upon the closest -inspection, nor the slightest promise of the spring--yet bore over -all, when beheld from afar, a kind of misty bloom, which is not seen -in the earlier part of winter, and is difficult to account for.</p> - -<p class="normal">The air was so warm that Helen Barham, at the request of her sick -brother--who was now journeying for his only chance of life, towards -that land where so many of the children of the North have laid their -bones--opened the window of the carriage, and let in the breath of -spring, which for a time seemed to revive the invalid. She herself -leant forward, and gazed over the prospect, enjoying it with a spirit -attuned to every thing that is beautiful, but with feelings saddened -by a partial knowledge of her brother's perilous state; though William -Barham himself, like most sufferers from the same malady, was utterly -ignorant of the fate that hung over him, and had that very morning -been cursing the doctors, for some little inconvenience which he had -undergone at the last inn, declaring that if they had let him remain -in England, he would have been well long before.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen gazed, as I have said, pleased but somewhat sorrowful; and, -indeed, there is nothing on earth I know more melancholy, than to look -over one of the bright scenes of nature with an eye fresh from the bed -of deadly sickness. There is a strange and awful contrast in it: it -makes life seem so utterly vain and worthless, that all we have been -taught to prize turns suddenly, like the fabled fruits, to dust and -ashes; and our heart sinks with a conviction of the emptiness of every -thing below, even before it can rise with the consciousness of a -better state beyond.</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen gazed, then, and meditated; and her lovely eyes filled with -tears. At that moment her brother's voice said, "Helen;" but for a -short time she would not look round, lest he should see the drops upon -her eyelids, and divine their cause. But the next moment, he repeated -the word "Helen" in a tone that alarmed her, and when she did turn, -his countenance alarmed her still more. His cheeks had become more -hollow, the red spot which had been constantly there for some weeks -was gone, his temples seemed fallen in, and the thin light hair lay -more wild upon his brow than usual. There was a transparent greyness, -too, about the flesh which Helen had never seen before, in him, but -had marked it to well in another; and when once seen, it is never to -be forgotten. At the same time a sort of spasmodic gasping seemed to -convulse his chest, and his hands lay upon his knees.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Helen!" he cried--"Helen! I feel very queer. Don't let them go on in -this mist. Stop the carriage--I should like to get out. The air is so -thick here I cannot breathe. Stop the carriage, girl, I say! Those -d--d doctors, if they had but left me in England I should have been -well by this time. That mist--"</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen let down the window hastily, and called to the postilions to -stop, but they did not hear her, and it was some time before she could -catch the ear of the courier. At length, however, the carriage paused; -and the door was opened, and, by a great effort, William Barham raised -himself from his seat, and fell forward into the arms of the courier. -The man carried him to the bank, and placed him at the foot of a tree, -but the unhappy youth sunk back upon the grass with his eyes closed; -while the same death-like pallor continued upon his countenance, and a -quick, hard-drawn respiration shook his emaciated frame. Helen sprang -from the carriage after her brother, and knelt beside him, her heart -palpitating with apprehension, and her eyes filled with the tears of -natural affection, no less keen and sensible because he who lay there -dying before her had been so frequently the cause of pain, and sorrow, -and anxiety. She bade the man bring water from the stream to throw -upon his face; but though he went civilly to obey, yet he shrugged his -shoulders, saying, in French--"It is of no use, mademoiselle--he is -dying."</p> - -<p class="normal">Oh! of all the many painful things of earth, there are few more -terrible than to stand by the side of a being that we deeply love, -watching the last struggles of departing life, looking round for aid, -consolation, and support, and finding about us none but indifferent -strangers, who view our sorrow and its cause but as a scene upon a -theatre. Though she knew that medical aid was useless, what would not -Helen Barham have given, at that moment, for the presence of a -physician, for the presence of any friend! But all she could do was to -clasp her hands, and gaze through her tears upon the unanswering -countenance of her brother, expecting every moment to see the spirit -depart. After the courier had been gone for a minute, however, a hasty -step called her attention, and then a voice which seemed familiar to -her ear, asking aloud, in English--"What's the matter--what's the -matter?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen looked up, and the face of Harry Martin met her eyes.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I am so glad to see you!" she exclaimed. "My brother--my -brother,--he is dying, I am afraid."</p> - -<p class="normal">Harry Martin said, in his own heart, "And no bad job either!" But -there was too much of the milk of human kindness, mingled with his -rough nature, to let him utter one word which could pain poor Helen -Barham at that moment.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am very glad to see you, ma'am," he replied; "but sorry to find you -in such a state. But why did you take the young man out of the -carriage? The place they call Steig is only two miles off; the doctor -will be there in half an hour, to see our poor old woman who broke her -leg. Better put him in again, Miss! Take the maid with you, inside; -I'll jump up behind, and we'll soon be there."</p> - -<p class="normal">The courier came back with some water in his hands, but though thrown -upon the face of the unhappy youth, it produced no effect, except a -slight shudder which passed over his frame. The suggestion of the man -Harry Martin was then followed. He himself carried the almost lifeless -body of William Barham to the carriage, and placed him in it; while -Helen, taking her seat beside him, supported his head upon her arm, -and the door being closed after the maid had entered, they proceeded -on their way.</p> - -<p class="normal">The postilions drove quick--much more so, indeed, than any money would -have induced them to do--and in about twenty minutes the chariot stood -before the little post-house. Much to the satisfaction of Harry -Martin, the surgeon who had been attending old Mrs. More was seen, as -they came up, in the very act of getting into his ancient caleche, to -rumble back again to Friedburg, and, springing down, the Englishman -stopped him, and told him what had occurred. The surgeon followed him -instantly to the side of the vehicle, but when they came up, the -post-master, the servants, and the courier were all whispering round, -Helen's beautiful face was buried in her handkerchief, and the dead -body of William Barham lay beside her, with the head resting upon her -shoulder.</p> - -<p class="normal">Harry Martin sprang round to the other side of the chariot, opened the -door, and, raising the corpse in his powerful arms, bore it into the -inn. Helen started, and looked round for a moment, as she felt the -weight that had leaned upon her removed; but then bent down her head -again, and once more covering her eyes, wept bitterly, without making -any movement to quit the carriage. In another instant, however, Harry -Martin was at the door again, and gently laying his hand upon her -sleeve, he called her attention, saying--"You must get out, Miss -Barham, I fear, for there is much to be done.--Be comforted, madam," -he added, in a low tone--"be comforted. Ay, and thank God! Remember, -it might have been worse--much worse."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen dried her tears, and entered the inn, where much sad business -lay before her. Luckily, however, she was amongst kindhearted and -honest people, and the only effort that was made to wrong her in any -respect, was on the part of her brother's courier. He was detected in -pilfering and cheating, on the day after the funeral of William -Barham, by the keen eyes of Harry Martin, who, as he himself said, not -knowing the laws of the country, ensured that the rogue should not go -without punishment by thrashing him most terribly on the spot, and at -the moment. He then reported his conduct to Miss Barham, and the man -was accordingly dismissed, so that Helen was left in a small German -village, without any counsel or assistance of the kind and character -which she most needed, to choose her own plans, and to follow out the -curious windings of that fate, which had placed her in so many an -unforeseen position through life. She had been compelled to choose her -course before, in circumstances that may seem to the reader far more -difficult; but, strange to say, now that great wealth was at her -command, and that all the self-named friends and humble servants who -are always ready to bow down and worship at the shrine of the great -god of this world, were prepared to court and seek her, and show her -kindnesses and attentions, not the slightest of which her high -qualities of mind and heart would have won from them had she remained -poor,--strange to say, she felt more embarrassed, more anxious, more -doubtful in acting for herself, than she had felt when left, by her -father's death, to provide by her own exertions food for her brother -and herself.</p> - -<p class="normal">At one time, she thought of returning to England; and, perhaps, had -she been a person to consult the dictates of prudence alone, she would -have done so; but alas! reader, Helen Barham was not by nature a -prudent person. She was good, indeed,--she was very good; and she had -strong and fine principles, but it was from her heart that her -goodness proceeded--in her heart that her principles dwelt. On the -present occasion there was some secret longing--some inclination -hidden from herself which made her anxiously desire to go on towards -Italy; and though, at first, she felt some sort of fear at the mere -idea of doing so, of taking so long a journey by herself, of -encountering strange scenes and strange people, and undergoing all the -dangers and difficulties of the road, yet these apprehensions soon -disappeared, and she reasoned down every other objection in her own -mind.</p> - -<p class="normal">Nor did many real obstacles present themselves. All her brother's -affairs had been settled before she left England, and she came in as -the clear and sole heir, he having died under age, of the whole -property which they had lately acquired. The steps necessary to be -taken in consequence of his decease, the lawyers were very willing to -carry through without her presence, and Helen having once written to -England and received an answer, openly took the resolution of going on -to Italy--speaking the truth when she said that she herself did not -feel well, and would probably be better for the air of a milder -climate.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a difficulty, indeed, in procuring an honest and respectable -servant, and her experience of the last courier did not tend to give -her any great confidence in that sort of cattle. But she was not -destined to proceed alone. The man Martin and his wife had shown her -that devoted attention and respect, which could only spring from deep -gratitude; and although the good old lady, Mrs. More, was still in a -very feeble and even dangerous state, they had lost no opportunity of -offering to Helen every attention and assistance. The funeral of -William Barham had been arranged and carried through by Harry Martin -himself, who had by this time learnt to converse in a somewhat -barbarous kind of German, and many of the painful particulars which -attend the act of committing our kindred clay to the earth, had been -spared to Helen by his consideration for her.</p> - -<p class="normal">When he now heard that she was going on to Italy, he made all the -preparations, took her orders, as if he had been her servant, and -often gazed wistfully in her face, with a look that seemed to imply -there was something in his mind which he wished to speak, without -presuming to do so. He often, too, held long consultations with his -wife; and, in the end, he came one morning suddenly into the -room which Helen had made her sitting-room, saying, without any -preface--"I can't think of your going to Italy by yourself, Miss -Helen. I know you talk of getting a courier fellow at Schaffhausen or -Constance; but bless you, ma'am, he's as likely to cheat you as the -other, and you are going into a place where there are blackguards of -all sorts. Now, it's very possible, ma'am, that, from what you know of -me, you may think I am not a very likely person to take with you, and -that I may just prove as bad as the rest of them you would meet with; -but I give you my word of honour, that I never cheated any one in my -life, though many a time I have done, perhaps, what may be worse. But, -however, I would not wrong you in any way for a great deal more than -the world, and if you were to give me to keep for you a hundred -thousand pound without counting it, you should have every farthing -back again, if I were starving."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am quite sure of it, Martin," replied Helen Barham, with one of her -sweet confiding smiles; "I should not in the least mind putting all I -have in the world in your hands. But what is it you wish to propose? -You could not, quit this poor lady in her present state--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, Miss Helen," replied Harry Martin, "that is just what I have -been talking to my wife about. She is not the least afraid of staying -here to attend to her mother, till I go with you to Italy and come -back again. What I want is, just to go along with you, on the outside -of the carriage, to see that nobody does you any harm. You can get a -courier fellow where you can find one, for you see I know nothing -about that sort of business, and should not exactly like such a thing -either; but I will see that he keeps all straight, and when once you -are safe, and amongst people who will love you, and take care of you, -as you ought to be, I can come back again, or Jane can come to me, as -the case may be."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen took a day to consider, but her consideration ended in her -adopting the plan which was proposed, and though she obtained a -courier with a good recommendation, Harry Martin attended her onward -into Italy.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER LIV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">That season of the year was approaching when it is necessary -for -foreigners to quit Rome, if they hold their life very dearly; and -Morley Ernstein, though certainly with no thought of malaria, had more -than once proposed to Lieberg to pursue their way to Naples, but for -some reason, best known to himself, the latter had always made some -excuse to delay. In the meantime, he surrounded Morley Ernstein with -temptations of all sorts, upon which we will not dwell, having already -displayed the course which he followed, and the means which he took, -and it being unnecessary to repeat nearly the same story. He did not -succeed, it is true, to any great extent. Some few pieces of -extravagance, Morley certainly was led to commit--some few acts which -he regretted,--not many, but enough to give Lieberg encouragement to -pursue his plan with good hope of success at last; for the water does -not more certainly wear the stone over which it passes, than a -constant familiarity with vicious scenes destroys the moral principle -in the heart of man.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein would not approach the gaming-table, however, neither -would he drink to anything like excess, though that also was tried by -his dear friend, who well knew, that, as in the case of the Santon, -one folly of such a kind opens the door to vices of all sorts. It may -be asked, what was the object of all this?--it may be said that there -must be a motive for all human actions. Reader, I cannot clearly tell -you what the object was; and Lieberg's conduct certainly seemed more -fiend-like than human. He afterwards indeed uttered some dark words -which were never explained and might be untrue; but if there was not -some deep seated cause of enmity towards Morley Ernstein in his bosom, -arising in circumstances that we know not, we can only guess at his -purposes and motives. To degrade Morley in the eyes of Helen Barham -was certainly one end in view; but besides this, we have seen that his -young companion had on more than one occasion thwarted him in an -object of passion, had mortified his vanity and wounded his pride; and -if we take these causes of offence, acting upon a malignant mind, -together with the natural antipathy that the evil feel towards the -good, and the jealous hatred of a man who sees another preferred by -the being that he loves, the motives may perhaps be considered -sufficient for his conduct. There may indeed have been something -more--I am inclined to believe it was so--but what, I know not.</p> - -<p class="normal">The struggle was still going on with Morley Ernstein between -temptation and resistance, when, one day, as he was passing along the -Piazza del Popolo, he saw a magnificent carriage, undoubtedly of -English construction, standing before the great hotel, the name of -which I forget, with two or three servants round the door, and the -usual quantity of lackeys, couriers, and ciceroni at the entrance of -the inn. When his eyes first lighted upon it he was at a considerable -distance, and while he was still some thirty yards, a lady came out of -the hotel with a quick step, and entered the vehicle. The door was -closed, the order given where to drive, and the carriage, taking a -turn, dashed past Morley the moment after. There was an earl's coronet -and emblazoned arms upon the panel, and Morley, raising his eyes to -the window, beheld the countenance of Juliet Carr. How often had he -seen that face with joy--ay, even after hope had passed away; and the -first sensation had always been pleasure; but now, there was something -in Juliet's dress and appearance--something in the magnificence of the -equipage--something, perhaps, in his own pre-conceived suspicions -which made the sight of her he loved feel like a heavy blow upon his -heart. She evidently did not see him, and was speaking with a smile to -some one else who was in the vehicle with her. Morley paused for an -instant to recover breath, and then advancing to the inn, determined -to have his doubts satisfied, he asked an English servant, who was -still gazing after the carriage, whose it was.</p> - -<p class="normal">The man was one of those saucy English footmen who are the disgrace of -many of our noble houses; and to any one but a man of Morley's -distinguished appearance he might have made an insolent reply. To him, -however, he answered, in a civil tone--"The Countess of Clavering, -sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lord Clavering has not long been married, I think," said Morley, in -as firm a voice as he could command.</p> - -<p class="normal">"About a month, sir," replied the man, with a grin, "and he has -already gone back to England to attend the house of peers. That was my -lady who just drove away."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley turned with his heart burning and his brain whirling round; -but, pausing after he had taken a step or two, with a bitter smile -curling his lip, he took out his card-case, and, walking back, gave -the man a card, saying--"That for Lady Clavering, with my -congratulations."</p> - -<p class="normal">The attempt to describe the feelings of Morley Ernstein, when the full -agony burst upon him, would indeed be vain. His passionate indignation -approached nearly to madness; his bitter, bitter anguish of spirit -might have tempted him, at that moment, to commit any act which his -worst enemy could wish. He felt it--he knew it to be so--his command -over himself was gone, and he feared to return to the inn where he had -left Lieberg, lest he might be led into some irretrievable step of -folly or of vice. He wandered, then, through the streets of Rome for -several hours, with the hurried pace and unequal step of a man torn by -terrible emotions. He saw nothing that passed him; his eye marked none -of the objects it rested upon; his spirit, busy within itself, seemed -to have lost communication with the bodily senses; and it was nearly -night when he was recalled to himself by some one suddenly seizing his -arm, and exclaiming--"What is the matter, Morley? I have been -following you this half hour, and you do not seem to know where you -are going, or what you are doing."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nor do I, Lieberg," replied Morley. "All I have undergone is not -equal to this."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay," said Lieberg; "come back to the hotel, and tell me what is -the matter. By keeping your griefs and anxieties to yourself you more -than double them; and not only that, but you are unjust to me. In -striving to suggest those things which might divert your mind without -knowing what it is that weighs upon it, I very often may propose the -worst things when I wish to offer the best. I beseech you, Morley, -tell me all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will, Lieberg--I will," replied Morley. "I will; but let us go home -first;" and walking quickly on by the side of his companion he took -his way to the hotel, where, casting himself into a chair, he covered -his eyes with his hands for two or three minutes to collect his -thoughts, and then gave Lieberg a hurried and confused account of his -attachment to Juliet Carr, and all that had occurred in the course of -that true love, which had run even more roughly than is usually the -case with the troubled course of human affection.</p> - -<p class="normal">After he had brought his narrative up to the events of Venice, he -paused, and Lieberg replied--"I had known something of all this, -Morley, but not accurately, and I see I have made several mistakes in -dealing with you. I did not know that you loved her so intensely. You -may think me light, but my passions and attachments are as strong, or -stronger than your own. I believed that you would have acted, if you -truly loved her, as I would have acted under similar circumstances, -that you would have pursued her, struggled against her resolutions, -combated her arguments, set at nought idle vows, and ultimately won -her for your happiness and for her own. But I forgot, Morley, that you -are less experienced in all things than I am, and though passion may -give the impetus to action, it is experience that must guide it to -success. I forgot this, I say, and fancying that you loved her with -one of those half loves, which may be diverted by pleasures and -occupations, or swallowed up in another attachment, I endeavoured to -lead your mind upon a course it could not follow. Now, however, I am -convinced that you do love--at least I believe so, but I shall soon -see, by the steps which you once take when your eyes are open. You -seem to think that she has true affection for you; and, though from -your agitation now, I suppose you have seen her again, and that she -has once more treated you with the same cruel coldness, if you do love -her, you will pursue her with that vigour of determination which will -sweep away all obstacles. There is a might in real passion to which -all inferior things soon bow, and which woman's heart can never -resist, even for an hour, when once convinced that it is truly -present. But that conviction cannot be produced by any sign of -weakness,--you must show her that you love her, as none but strong and -powerful hearts can love. That you are resolved to possess her, or to -die----"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Vain, vain, vain!" cried Morley, in bitterness of spirit. "It is all -now in vain; she did love me; but driven by some promise extorted by -her father, I suppose, she is now the wife of another!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg started, and gazed upon him in surprise, then grasped his arm, -and with his dark star-like eyes fixed on his face, exclaimed--"Take -her from him! What right has he to possess her? Is she not yours? -Yours by the bond of the heart's affection--yours by the tie that is -beyond the earth--yours by the union of spirit with spirit! Talk not -to me of human laws and ordinances, where the soul itself recognises a -rule that is defined. You are her husband, if with the true intensity -of heaven's own fire you love her and she loves you. You are her -husband, I say, and every hour of her union with another is adultery. -Take her from him, Morley--take her from him, be he who he may. -Scruple at no means, stop at no pitiful considerations; it is due to -her as well as to yourself--it is due to her in every sense. Think, -think of the long and lasting misery that she must endure. Do you not -know--are you not sure that every hour she must recollect you? What -human ordinance will blot you out from her memory? What empty words, -spoken at an altar, will erase from her heart the husband of her early -dreams. Morley, if you are a lover--if you are a man--you will spare -that sweet, mistaken girl the hell-fire tenderness of him whom she -cannot love!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush, hush, hush!" cried Morley. "You will drive me mad!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are mad already, Morley", replied Lieberg, "or you would fly to -her at once. You would show her the brow which she loves, scathed with -the lightning of passion, the form of him to whom she promised heaven, -blighted by the consuming hell of disappointed affection. You would -call upon her to remedy the wrong that she has committed--you would -urge her with those words of power, the omnipotent magic of love, to -save you from despair, destruction, and death, and to give you back -the joy of which she has robbed you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus did he proceed, reader, adding to the words he spoke, that -overpowering eloquence of look, gesture, and tone, which has far more -effect than language, but can never be described. Let it be -remembered, too, that this was addressed to Morley Ernstein at a -moment when the whole powers of his mind were shaken by the agony he -endured, when reason herself tottered on her throne, and despair had -broken down the great prop of all good principle--hope. He sat and -listened, not without a knowledge that there was wrong and evil in the -words he heard; but it was as a man for whom all life's joys and -expectations are extinct, and who, in a moment of frenzied -desperation, takes quietly the cup he knows to be poisoned, and drains -it with a bitter smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, however, he rose, and said, "Lieberg, I will leave you for -to-night. I cannot converse with any one--my story is scarcely told, -but a few words more will do it. She is married to a man as old as her -father--to a Lord Clavering--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, he is just gone to England!" exclaimed Lieberg.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know it," answered Morley, "and has left her here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Fly to her, Morley--fly to her!" cried Lieberg, grasping his -hand--"fly to her this very night!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," answered Morley, "no! Whatever I do, I must have time for -thought."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he left him, and in the silence and solitude of his own -chamber, paced up and down for more than an hour, with the better -spirit within him struggling vehemently against the spell, but too -weak to cast it off by its own efforts.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must fly," he said to himself, at length--"I must fly from this -man, or he will destroy me. I will fly speedily, both from him and -from the presence of her who has cast away my happiness and her own. -To-morrow I will seek for the means, and to-night I will see him no -more. I will throw off his dangerous companionship. To avoid evil is -the next thing to conquering it."</p> - -<p class="normal">He opened the door to call his servant Adam Gray; the old man was -sitting at the other side of the antechamber, and looking eagerly -towards the entrance of his master's room.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have knocked twice, sir," he said, "but you did not hear me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was busy with very sad meditations, Adam," replied his master.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thought so, sir," answered the old man, simply, "for I saw to-day -the person who always causes them--I wish I might say all--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Say nothing, my good Adam--say nothing upon that subject," replied -Morley.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No; I must not tell anything now, sir," rejoined Adam Gray, "but the -time will come for me to speak."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You said you knocked," continued Morley, gravely; "what do you want?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, sir," replied Adam, "there's another person in Rome besides her; -a person whom you will be glad to see, I think; and who will be glad -enough to see you, poor thing!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who is that?" demanded his master; the expression, "poor thing," -showing him that his old servant spoke of some person he believed to -be attached to him, and making his mind immediately turn to Veronica. -Alas, he never thought of Helen Barham!</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, sir, it is the young lady who was for some time with Lady -Malcolm," replied Adam Gray. "Miss Barham, or Miss Helen, as people -always call her. I saw her maid looking about the town with the -courier, about an hour or two ago, and told them where you were, so -just now the courier brought this note for you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley ordered lights into his room, and taking the note, read as -follows:--</p> -<br> - -<p style="text-indent:10%">"<span class="sc">My Dear Sir</span>;</p> - -<p class="normal">"Although, under ordinary circumstances, it might seem strange for me -to ask you to come to see me, yet I feel that it would show a want of -gratitude were I to be in the same city with yourself and not tell you -that I am here. But I have another excuse for that which I acknowledge -I am very willing to do. You are, I dare say, aware, by this time, of -my poor brother's death, and that the property which to my great -regret, he claimed and obtained from you, has descended to me. There -is still, however, some business to settle in regard to it, which I am -sure he would have wished to arrange himself as I propose, if his life -had been spared to do so. In regard to these arrangements, I could -much wish to speak with you, as well as to assure you that I am, ever -most truly,</p> - -<p style="text-indent:70%">"Your grateful,</p> -<p style="text-indent:75%">"<span class="sc">Helen Barham</span>."</p> -<br> -<p class="normal">"P.S. I will wait at home to-morrow till you call, unless you let me -know that it is inconvenient to do so on that day."</p> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Morley answered the note at once, and named the hour, and this return -to the ordinary things of life had some effect in calming his mind -again. Twice he asked himself why Adam Gray had called Helen "poor -thing," but he turned his thoughts away from the images to which the -reply gave rise.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER LV.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Pale, haggard, and sick at heart, Morley Ernstein rose from -his -sleepless bed, and made preparations of various kinds for that speedy -departure, which all the varied trains of thought that had visited his -mind during the night, had but shewn him to be the more necessary. The -next thing to be done, was to announce his determination to Lieberg, -and for that purpose he proceeded to the saloon, where his companion -was already seated at breakfast. There was a sparkling sort of smile -upon Lieberg's countenance which Morley was never very fond of. He had -often seen it precede conversations that ended or went on in a painful -manner; but it was Lieberg's general plan never to commence any -subject himself, except of an ordinary kind, and on this occasion, as -usual, he suffered Morley to speak first, merely giving him the common -salutation of the morning. Now, as we have shewn, the character of -Morley Ernstein was <i>intimately mixed of good and evil</i>, but he had -one invariable quality, which was, frankness; at times carried too -far, perhaps--too far, at least, for his own earthly interest: truth -can never be carried too far for Heaven. In the present case, he not -only told Lieberg his purpose, but he told him why; he acknowledged -that he feared him; that their views on the subject which they had -discussed on the preceding night, were as different as light from -darkness; but that he dreaded lest, under strong temptation, he might -yield, and never cease to regret that he had so given way.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I believe, Lieberg," he said, "that you wish me well, and would -direct me to what you conceive to be happiness. My view of that not to -be found jewel, however, can never be the same as yours; and though I -thank you much for your good wishes, yet I must pursue my own plan."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley paid no great attention to his companion's countenance while he -spoke, and yet it was worth observing. There was once or twice a look -of displeasure, and once or twice a look of triumph, especially when -the young Englishman owned that he feared his influence. A scornful -smile marked his lip, too, when Morley spoke of proceeding at once; -but the whole settled down into an expression of calm, well-satisfied -pride, and he replied, attaching himself, in the first place, to the -words, "My view of happiness can never be the same as yours,"--"You -must come to it, Morley," he said--"You must come to it. The time will -be, believe me, when you will find such happiness as mine the only -happiness to be procured. However, be it as you will! Take your own -way! Go to Naples at once, and wait for me there till I come. I will -not be long after you; and then, as I shall have nothing to tempt you -with, you may pursue your journey with me in safety, through the sunny -land of Greece, and perhaps to the brighter and more ardent skies of -Syria. There we shall see whether even your cold blood may not be -warmed into a flame. But where go you after breakfast? Let us, at -least, spend this last day of your stay in Rome together."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear that cannot be," replied Morley; "I have various things to do, -and have an engagement at eleven; but after two I am at your command."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg bit his lip, but made no reply, and Morley had finished his -breakfast as soon as he left the saloon, and proceeded to his own -chamber. It happened, by the merest accident in the world, that after -he had taken his hat and gloves, and give some additional orders to -Adam Gray, he went out of his room by another door, on the side -opposite to that which opened into the common vestibule, and issued -forth from the hotel by a small staircase which he had only used twice -before. It is true that, although he believed Helen Barham to be now -placed by fortune far above Lieberg's pursuit, yet he felt no -inclination to speak of her being in Rome at all; but still, in going -out by the back way, he acted without premeditation, and without ever -dreaming that he would be watched.</p> - -<p class="normal">Had he gone through the anteroom, however, he would have seen that -Lieberg's valet was waiting there; and there the man continued to sit, -till Adam Gray came out of Morley's room, when a few words were -interchanged between the two servants. The valet seemed surprised, and -immediately went in to speak with his master; after which the old -man's ear caught a furious imprecation, followed by a sound, as if the -Count in his anger had struck the table a violent blow with his -clenched fist.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meanwhile, Morley Ernstein walked on to the inn where Helen -Barham was to be found, and, on asking for her, was immediately -admitted. She rose as soon as she saw him, a little fluttered and -agitated, but with the mounting colour in her cheeks, the slight -quivering of her beautiful lip, and the dancing light in her dark -eyes, all adding to that loveliness which in itself was incomparable. -She strove hard to be calm and placid, and indeed would sooner have -become somewhat cold than otherwise, but it was a difficult thing for -Helen Barham to be so. I have heard people called creatures of -impulse, but she was a creature of emotions--tender, fine, high, -noble, but still trembling, like a finely-balanced lever, at the -lightest touch. She could not restrain her feelings; and as Morley met -her, she looked so happy with her resplendent beauty, with all her -wild grace, with light, and soul, and tenderness in her eyes--she -seemed to possess so much of everything that God can give to content -the utmost expectations of a human creature, that Morley was forced to -ask himself again why it was the old man had called her "Poor thing!" -Morley fell into a very common error notwithstanding all his own -experience. It is, that we always make a mistake as to the source of -happiness. It springs from within, and not from without. It is the -water that gushes from the rock of our own hearts, not the rain that -dimples the stream, adding but a few drops to the current.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am most delighted to see you," said Morley, taking the hand she -offered; "and though I know you must feel the loss of your brother -deeply, yet I must still congratulate you on your accession to the -fortune you now possess. I was always sure, my dear Miss Barham, that -you would do honour to high station and extensive means, and I thank -God that I see you now possessed of them!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"If I had had either voice or choice in the matter," replied Helen, -earnestly, "I never would have become possessed of them in such a way. -A very small portion would have contented me; and the superabundance -which I do possess is rather a burden than otherwise, especially as I -feel that, to have taken it from you, is to have turned our heel -against our benefactor."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not at all," answered Morley Ernstein. "It was perfectly your -brother's right; and as soon as I became convinced that it was so, I -could not have held the estate for a single hour. Neither did your -brother behave at all unhandsomely in any of the proceedings regarding -it--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay--nay," said Helen, holding up her hand--"though he did not, Sir -Morley; and I believe would ultimately have done what was right, yet -his lawyers did behave unhandsomely in his name; but I have -immediately taken means to remedy what was amiss."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not know what you have done, my dear Miss Barham," said Morley, -with a smile; "but I trust and hope that your kind and generous -feelings have not induced you to undo anything that has been settled. -What the law gives you, is yours; and as far as I am concerned in the -matter, I cannot consent to your making any sacrifice--honour and -common honesty forbid me; and now, having said this, let me enquire -what it is that you have done?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen was sitting beside him on the sofa, and for a moment she raised -her bright eyes to his, with a look of internal satisfaction mingled -with regard, which, if Morley had chosen to translate it, might have -been read--"I have done that which gives me the highest delight, -because you must and will approve it." But she did not answer exactly -in those words, and withdrew her eyes again immediately, with a sigh, -and a look of sadness, as if she saw something in Morley's -countenance, which she had not remarked before.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What I have done," she said "is only what is just and right. There -has been no generosity--no flights of what people call fine feeling in -it, and I think you will confess at once that it is so, and not give -me the greatest pain, by refusing to accede to that which your own -heart will tell you is just, merely because it is proposed to you by a -person whom you have already loaded with benefits. I think," she -added, in a lower, but not less eager tone, "you would not willingly -make me very unhappy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"God forbid!" replied Morley, warmly. "What is there that I, would not -do to make you happy?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen's cheek became a little pale, and, for a moment, she did not -answer; but finding that he paused also, she said--"The fact is, -simply, this: the property which my brother claimed, and recovered was -bought from my grandfather, who, I am told, was the most careless and -thoughtless of men. He did not, I am sure, intend to defraud your -father, and acted without consideration. But, at all events, your -father paid ninety-three thousand pounds for the estate; and the -lawyers tell me, that if my grandfather had been still living, you -could have claimed and recovered that sum from him. It is but just, -then, that I should pay it back to you, and I have told the people in -London, to place it immediately in the hands of your friend, -Mr. Hamilton.--Nay, now," she added, "do not look grave and -thoughtful--your heart tells you that what I propose is right."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But--" said Morley Ernstein.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, nay," interrupted Helen, playfully; "I will have no buts. Tell -me, Sir Morley, in former days--to remember which, connected with your -kindness, will always be most delightful to me--did I not ever do what -you told me, as soon as I was convinced that it was right?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"You did, indeed," said Morley, with a smile; "but I wish first to be -sure whether this is really right?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"What would you do if you were in my place?" demanded Helen.</p> - -<p class="normal">"As you have done," answered Morley.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, and perhaps more," said Helen. "You would do all that I should -wish to do, but dare not offer, because I know you would reject it -angrily."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not angrily--not angrily, with you," exclaimed Morley; "but firmly. -You have already done as much, and more, than the most generous -feeling could dictate; and as I believe it is a pleasure to you to do -it, I will not refuse to accept what you propose, though I see that -you do not know the whole circumstances. Let me tell you, then, my -dear Miss Barham, what they are, in some degree; for if you feel a -pleasure in doing a generous act, the satisfaction will be doubled -when you know that act relieves one who has the greatest regard for -you from a severe embarrassment."</p> - -<p class="normal">He then explained to her, that the only means he had found of paying -the large claims against him, were, to assign the rents of almost all -his landed property, to dismiss his servants, to curtail his -expenditure, and to live upon an income comparatively small and -pitiful. Helen's cheek first grew pale, and then burned with the hue -of crimson; and as he went on she burst into a bitter flood of tears, -exclaiming--"And we have done this!--we have done this!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley took her hand, and pressed his lips upon it, saying--"Others -have done it, and were not to blame. You have remedied it all, and how -am I to thank you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no, no!" she exclaimed--"I have not remedied it all; I fear that -I still am robbing you--robbing you of that fortune which you used so -nobly; and that, too, when I owe you everything--life, and more than -life; for in the state I was when you found me, I could not have lived -long, and should not only have died, but have died with shame and -misery!--Ah! you cannot tell, Sir Morley," she continued, "how much -sooner I would be a pensioner upon your bounty for a small pittance to -supply my daily wants, than take from my benefactor that property -which I cannot but feel of right is his."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not so, indeed!" answered Morley Ernstein; "it is not mine, Helen. It -was of right your brother's, and is yours. I scarcely know, indeed, -whether I am justified in not following out the plan that I had first -proposed, and paying you all. But as you wish it, I will not insist -upon that point; and now, tell me how you are, and let me hear all -that has happened to you, since we met."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, I am well," replied Helen, wiping away the tears which still -felt inclined to flow; "well, and yet not quite well. But speak of -yourself--I scarcely dare to ask how you are, for I see that you are -ill, Sir Morley."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must not have you call me by that name," said Morley Ernstein; -"after the strange way in which our fate has been linked together, we -can but look upon each other as brother and sister; and if you will -let me, Helen, I will be a brother to you instead of him that you have -lost."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have been a better brother already," replied Helen; "but you do -not say, if you are ill; and yet I am sure you are, for you are so -changed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have had much to pain me, Helen," answered Morley Ernstein; "very -much."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know it--I know it," said Helen; "and it has been our -doing--Morley."</p> - -<p class="normal">The last word she pronounced after a moment's hesitation, and in so -low a tone that he scarcely heard it; but yet the blood came up into -her cheek, as if she had told him that she loved him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was not on that account, Helen, that I have grieved," he replied. -"Fortune could never disturb my night's repose; but there have been -many other things pressing heavily upon my mind."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen cast down her eyes, and replied not; but the paleness that crept -over her countenance might well shew that there were some emotions -busy at her heart. Morley Ernstein was silent, too, for there was a -light breaking upon him, to which he would have fain been blind. At -length, Helen spoke, saying, with an effort--"I was in hopes I should -have heard of your being very happy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is quite the reverse, Helen," he answered. "Those bright days, -which you once saw me enjoy, are past away for ever, and I have -nothing left but to fly from myself, and from her who might have made -my happiness, and has made me miserable."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no, no!" cried Helen; "do not say so."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, indeed!" replied Morley Ernstein. "It is on that account I quit -Rome to-morrow. Are you aware that she is in this city?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who?--Juliet Carr?" exclaimed Helen.</p> - -<p class="normal">"She, who was Juliet Carr," replied Morley, bitterly; "now, Countess -of Clavering."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen started from her seat, and clasping her hands, gazed wildly in -Morley's countenance. "It is impossible!" she cried; and then sinking -down upon the sofa again, she buried her face in her hands, murmuring -some words that Morley did not hear, while the crimson was seen dying -her temples, and her fine small ear. What were the mingled emotions -that at that moment possessed her?--Who can say? She herself was not -aware; so strange, so complicated, so contending were they.</p> - -<p class="normal">The first thing that roused her, was Morley's voice: "You say it is -impossible, Helen," he replied. "I begin to think all things possible. -When those whom we love best, and to whom, of all the world, we have -given least cause to treat us ill, destroy our peace, betray our -trust, cast away our love, and even sacrifice themselves for sordid -motives, what may we not believe next?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"O, you wrong her--you wrong her!" cried Helen Barham, raising her -head, and speaking with enthusiastic eagerness. "You wrong her, -Morley, most assuredly. There is something in this that you do not -know--some cause she has for her conduct which will justify it, I am -sure; or, at least, will palliate it. She may never be yours, but you -must not cease to esteem her. I will take upon me to say, that she has -not acted thus without some powerful, some overpowering motive."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You judge her by your own heart, Helen," replied Morley. "No coronet -would tempt you to such a union as this."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen would not be ungenerous, even by remaining silent, and she -replied, eagerly, "You are wrong--you are wrong. She does love -you,--she has ever loved you. She loves you still, whatever duty may -say; and, though she may struggle to forget you, bound as she is to -another, yet the struggle will be in vain, and will be more than a -sufficient punishment for any weakness she may have shewn."</p> - -<p class="normal">Poor Helen Barham knew not that whilst she fancied she was but doing -justice to Juliet, and soothing the agonized feelings of Juliet's -lover, she was by every word giving force and vigour to the most -terrible temptation which Morley had ever undergone. There seemed to -be something peculiar in Lieberg's evil suggestions--a something which -made them resemble those of Satan himself. Every accidental -circumstance gave them additional venom, and even words which were the -most repugnant to all that is wrong, stirred them up in greater -virulence and power than ever. Morley put his hands over his eyes, as -if to shut out the temptation; but after a moment's pause, he rose, -saying--"Helen, I must leave you. I will set out for Naples this very -day, if it be possible. I take it for granted, that your steps will -soon be bent thither also. You must let me know when you arrive, for I -believe the only society from which I could derive comfort and -consolation, would be yours."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke he took Helen's hand, bidding her adieu, and she left it -in his, gazing with an anxious and sympathizing look in his -countenance, and thinking more of his sorrow than of the sweet and -gratifying words that he addressed to herself.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will see Juliet," she said, "before I come. I believe that I can -induce her to tell me all. You shall hear her motives as she gives -them to me, for I would fain restore to her your esteem."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let it be as it is, Helen," replied Morley, solemnly; "for it is less -dangerous for me to despise her than to love her still."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying he left her, and was hurrying home, with his thoughts so -agitated that he scarcely remarked a man who stood in his way at the -bottom of the stairs, till Harry Martin stopped him, by pronouncing -his name.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am afraid, Sir Morley," he said, as soon as the other paused--"I am -afraid I gave you some offence by what I said to you in Germany, about -some one that you trust. Now I--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"You did, my good friend!" replied Morley; "but I was wrong, and you -were right. All that is over--my eyes are opened, and I trust no -more."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's right--that's right!" cried Harry Martin. "All may go well, -then, and you may be as happy as the day is long; for if ever man was -loved by an angel, you are, by one not very far from here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush!" Cried Morley; "hush! You are mistaken altogether;" and, -turning away, he hurried back as fast as possible to his own hotel, -and quitted Rome ere the day was many hours older.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER LVI.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">A month passed in Naples, and Morley strove to drown -recollection, to -drown thought, to drown the ringing echo of the tempter's words, to -quell, by any means, the struggle that still went on in his heart--the -longing, eager, ardent desire to fly to Juliet Carr, to tell her, with -all the impetuous madness of intense passion, that he loved her still, -to shew her that she had destroyed his peace for ever, and to leave -her to decide, whether he were to live with her or to die by his own -hand. He knew that it was frenzy--he knew that it was crime. With as -much courage as any ancient warrior ever strove, he fought against the -host of dark temptations that beset him, in the vain hope that time -would mitigate the intensity of his feelings; but time brought no -balm--his heart knew no relief. The gay and gabbling crowd in the -ball-room, the palace, and the theatre, distracted not his attention -for a moment. With difficulty, even for a few minutes, did he fix his -attention upon all the objects of ancient art, which formerly would -have amused his fancy. The political strife of various parties which -at that time convulsed all Europe, scarcely roused his mind from the -bitter memories that were in his heart to give it even a thought; and -Morley's sole delight soon became to sail over the deep blue sea of -the bay, gazing in melancholy listlessness upon the waters, and -longing for a quiet abode beneath the rolling of those sunshiny waves.</p> - -<p class="normal">It soon, however, grew a weariness and a pain to him, to be forced, -even during a part of the day, to see and hear the merry multitudes of -the siren city. The coarse and glaring vice, the utter moral -degradation of almost all classes, the miserable laziness and -destitution of the lower orders, the frivolous wickedness of the -higher, all became an offence to his eyes; and he determined, at -length, to get rid of the whole and to remove to some distance from -Naples, although there was one employment for a part of his day, which -could not be, without difficulty, obtained anywhere but in the city. -It may seem strange that this his sole occupation was the examination -of almost all the principal London journals. But there was only one -part of those journals into which he looked--only one name that he -sought for. It was the name of Lord Clavering. From time to time, he -found it amongst those of the most diligent attendants upon -parliamentary duties. Morley read no more that day when he had once -seen the name. He perused not the speech to which it was attached, nor -examined the nature of the petition which the earl presented. He could -not hate him more than he did, and he did not wish to hate him less; -but still, to know that he was afar, that he was not in the same land -with Juliet Carr, was something.</p> - -<p class="normal">He resolved, at length, as I have said, to quit the city, and take up -his abode at such a distance that he could continually send into -Naples for intelligence, without setting his foot within the walls -itself. The generous though just act of Helen Barham having removed -the necessity for economy, Morley could indulge at ease whatever -fancies suited his humour best at the time; and, rowing along the -shores of the bay towards Sorrento, he pitched upon a solitary villa, -not far from that place, towards Castellamare as the house be should -like to hire. It was seated upon the high rocky ground, and was -visible from the sea; but on enquiring at the latter town, he found -that there was no road to it but a mule-path, and that it was -inhabited by the Italian family to whom it belonged. The latter -difficulty, however, was speedily removed; gold was an object to the -Italians, and none to Morley; and, while he had his boat, he needed no -other road but the waves.</p> - -<p class="normal">In this new abode, then, was he soon fixed, and certainly a lovelier -scene never soothed the disappointed heart. The view over the bay was -beyond description; a deep indentation of the shore brought the -profound waters up to the very foot of the rock under the villa, and -one of those arching caves, of which there are so many on the -Sorrentine shores, admitted the sea still farther, so that a sight of -steps from the house itself, similar to those near the <i>villa -Cocumella</i>, led down by a subterranean passage to the verge of the -bay; and Morley's boat could be brought in under the very crag on -which his dwelling stood. A little farther on, however, a winding -path, ornamented by some tall cypresses, led down to the shore, which -was strewed at that spot with ruins of various ancient buildings, and -covered almost to the edge of the sea with all the wild flowers and -rich creeping plants of that climate, while here and there the -gigantic aloe had planted itself, giving a peculiar character to the -picture, produced by no other European plant. High hills lay up -behind; and, along the shore on both sides, appeared all that variety -of rock, and precipice, and smooth descent, and soft sloping bank, -which every one who has rounded that headland must remember. We will -not dwell farther upon a description of the place, but will only add, -that the usual drawback to all Italian scenery was found not far off, -as one approached Sorrento, in numerous stone walls and narrow roads, -forming a sort of labyrinth, which required some degree of knowledge -and experience to escape from, in the attempt to find freer space upon -the mountain tops beyond.</p> - -<p class="normal">Here Morley dwelt in comparative peace for about a fortnight, with his -establishment restored to its former scale, and moreover increased by -six rowers for his boat, to whom one of the cottages in the vineyard -was assigned as an abode. Although so grave and sad, he had contrived -to make himself loved even by the light-hearted Neapolitans in his -service. There are few people more really sensible of dignified and -graceful manners than the lower classes; and as we have already shown, -there was a peculiar charm in the young Englishman's deportment, which -only derived a greater interest from the gloom that had fallen over -him. He was kind-hearted, and generous, too, and the only efforts that -now seemed to interest him strongly, were those tending to increase -the comfort and happiness of the people about him. He taught them to -obey him promptly, to attend, even in their lightness, to his smallest -sign or word, but he taught them also to respect, admire, and love -him.</p> - -<p class="normal">Old Adam Gray, too--though, to say sooth, he was not liking the -Italians--was a favourite amongst them, and they were always ready to -shew him his way hither and thither, keeping up with him as he went -along--partly by signs, partly by words--long conversations, of which -neither party understood one third.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was thus one day, while his master was out sailing in the bay, that -the old man had found his way to Sorrento, accompanied by one of the -Neapolitan servants, named Giacchino, who understood somewhat more of -English than the rest. He had gazed about upon the houses and villas, -had gone down to see the remains of antiquity that protrude in some -places from the cliffs, and had bought a basket of fruit from one of -the old women of the town, when suddenly--while he was yet counting -out the interminable small pieces of coin, which seem invented, in -several of the Italian States, for the torment of the passing -traveller--he dropped a whole handful of them, exclaiming--"Good -heavens, Mrs. Martin!--is that you? What could bring you to Italy?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The person he addressed was a very pretty young woman, dressed in -mourning, and her reply was simple enough, that she had followed her -husband thither.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I understand--I understand!" replied Adam Gray; "though how he -got out of York Castle I do not comprehend."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, you do not understand it at all," said Jane. "My husband got out -of York Castle by being pronounced innocent. But if you will come up -to the villa just upon the hill, he will tell you the whole story -himself. He came here out of Germany with dear Miss Helen, and I think -he would like to see you, for we told him how kind you had been."</p> - -<p class="normal">Without more ado, Adam Gray picked up the fallen money, and followed -the young Englishwoman, leaving his Italian companion Giacchino -talking with a number of men in pointed hats, and somewhat Calabrese -attire, who had come in with the apparent purpose of selling fruit and -small birds. When Giacchino joined them, however, they were engaged in -gossiping away the time with a man in the habit of a courier, whom -Adam Gray had seen more than once before loitering about the doors of -their inn at Rome, where he had filled the post of occasional <i>valet -de place</i>.</p> - -<p class="normal">We need not pause upon the interview between Adam Gray and the party -at the villa to which he was conducted; but he found that Harry Martin -was still in attendance upon Helen Barham, not being able, he said, to -make up his mind to leave her, always fancying that some mischief -would happen, if he were not near to take care of her.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It's a strange whim of mine," he said, "but I can't get rid of it. -However, I know that Miss Helen sent a note to your master at Naples, -yesterday, and when I can see her with plenty of kind friends about -her I shall be content, and think her safe."</p> - -<p class="normal">Adam Gray remained for a full hour at the villa, and, before he went, -begged to pay his respects to Helen herself, who sent a message by him -to Morley, telling him where she was, and adding that she had -something of importance to communicate to him, if he could call upon -her the next day.</p> - -<p class="normal">On returning to the spot where he had left his companion, the old man -found the Neapolitan still laughing and chattering with the rest, and -they proceeded on their way homeward together, both somewhat -thoughtful, though the natural buoyancy of the Italian's spirit would -not suffer him to bear the silence quite so long as the native of a -more taciturn land.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Those fellows will do some mischief before they are out of Sorrento," -he said; "and that devil of a courier will lead them into no good."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ha!" cried Adam Gray, "do you know those people, then, Giacchino? -Pray who may they be who are so mischievously disposed?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, that tall, good-looking fellow," replied the man, "was the head -of the banditti that used to rob about Nocera and Salerno, and -sometimes almost up to Portici on the other side. He gave it up of his -own accord when the bands were put down, and is now a very good -gardener. The rest are friends of his," he added, with a shrewd -gesticulation, which conveyed the full sense of what he meant.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And the courier?" demanded Adam Gray. "Pray who is he?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, he has come with some Englishman," replied Giacchino--"a count -something or another, which would break an Italian's teeth to speak."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There you are mistaken," exclaimed Adam Gray. "We have no counts in -England, Master Giacchino, though there are viscounts enough in all -conscience. But pray what was he doing with the banditti?--going to -sell his master to them?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," replied Giacchino; "he said his master would like to see -them, and talk to them. It seems that he is fond of such fishes."</p> - -<p class="normal">In such conversation they plodded on their way, till they reached the -dwelling of the young Englishman, and the old man, leaving his -companion below, proceeded through all the open doors and corridors of -an Italian house, till he reached the room where Morley usually sat. -He entered without ceremony, but was not a little surprised to find -that his master was not alone.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley was standing with his hand leaning on the back of a chair, his -brow knit, and his teeth closed, while Lieberg appeared within three -or four paces, with his arms folded on his chest, his head erect, and -his dark eyes flashing like a thunder-cloud. What had previously taken -place, no one ever heard, but it was clear that angry words had -already passed between them.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your language, Sir Morley Ernstein," said Lieberg, "is well nigh -insulting, and must not be repeated."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have told you, Count Lieberg," replied Morley, "the plain truth, -for which truth you pressed me. Having to thank you for some kindness, -nothing can be farther from my wish than to insult you; but, at the -same time, you must not urge me too far. Your advice I relish not; and -though I do not, as you insinuate, pretend to anything like perfect -purity of thought, word, or action--God forbid that I should be such a -hypocrite!--and though I may yield to temptation, when it comes upon -me, as weakly as any man, yet I will never calmly and deliberately lay -out a plan for seducing a woman from that faith to which she has sworn -at the altar. When I said that I should consider myself a villain if I -did so, I had a reference to my own feelings and my own principles, in -direct opposition to which I have no right to act. You see the matter -in a different light, and I pretend not to criticise or to censure -your views or your actions. The temptation may come, and I may fall, -as you say; I fear it might be so--I am sure it might be so; but I -will never seek the temptation myself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You will repent;" replied Lieberg, still frowning on him--"you will -repent your language towards me this night.--I am better as a friend -than an enemy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You drive me, sir, to say harsh things," answered Morley sternly; -"but I fear you less as the latter than the former. One word more, -Count Lieberg, before you go," he added, as Lieberg turned towards the -door. "I have this morning received a letter from a lady, whom I find -you have seen oftener than I believed. I do not understand all that -she means; but Miss Barham places the name of Count Lieberg so close -to the term--'a man who persecutes me,' that, as we part apparently -not soon to meet again, it may be as well to say, I look upon that -lady as a sister, will protect her as such, and will treat any man who -insults or injures her, as I would one who wronged my nearest -relation."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg's lip curled with a sarcastic smile. "Your knight-errantry, -Sir Morley," he said, "may lead you into scrapes; but you are a very -wise and prudent young man, and doubtless will extricate yourself -delicately from all embarrassments. As you have added a word to me, -however, I must add one to you. It shall be a short one, for the -evening sky is beginning to turn grey, and I must seek a more -hospitable roof. It is this--do not cross my path, or I will blast you -like a withered leaf; and so, good night!"</p> - -<p class="normal">With his usual calm, firm step, Lieberg descended the stairs, and -quitted the villa. Morley's eyes flashed; but old Adam Gray hastened -to interpose telling his master all that he had seen and heard during -that afternoon.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is very strange!" said Morley, musing. "Send the man, Giacchino, -to me--or, stay, ask him yourself, if the courier mentioned was that -of Count Lieberg. He may be meditating some harm to that poor girl, -and yet I must not--dare not go to Sorrento myself. Go, good Adam, and -enquire. It is all very strange!--That Juliet should come to Sorrento, -when she knows that I am so near!--It seems as if it were my fate to -be doomed to do wrong, even when I labour to avoid it.--I will not -go!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Old Adam Gray came back in a moment, saying that Giacchino was quite -sure that the name of Count Lieberg was the one he had heard; and -Morley seriously alarmed instantly took means to warn Helen of the -vague but not unfounded apprehensions which he entertained. He sent -the peasant who farmed the estate attached to the villa, and two of -his own servants, over to Sorrento, with orders to stay with the young -lady, and give her protection during the night; and after explaining -his motives for this step, in a short note, he added--"I would have -come myself at once, but that you tell me Juliet and her party from -Sicily are about to join you this day at Sorrento. Dear Helen, I must -never see her more, for I dare not trust myself. I am tempted in a way -that you cannot divine; and I must fly from that temptation, lest even -greater misfortunes fall upon her and me. Keep the men I send, with -you till Juliet comes, after that, her servants, added to your own, -will, I trust, ensure your safety."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now dispatch the people quickly, good Adam," said Morley, giving him -the note; "but, above all things, bid them keep a horse saddled, and -let me know if anything important occurs at Sorrento. They can be over -here in less than ten minutes. Have all our men prepared for whatever -may occur; and see if there be not some more horses to be procured in -the neighbourhood. If so let them be brought in. We might have to ride -over in haste."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER LVII.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Lieberg had not said true when he declared that the evening -sky was -beginning to turn grey. It was purple that it grew, that intense deep -purple which is only to be seen in southern skies, where the sunshine -seems to infuse a tint of gold into the azure of the heaven, rendering -it like the lazuli stone in which the sparks of the metal may be seen -through the fine hue of the gem. More and more red was every moment -mingled with the blue, till the western horizon, where it lay upon the -waters, glowed as if with intense fire, which seemed to catch the -waves themselves and all the distant sea was in a flame. The splendour -of the hour, however, was unseen by the eyes of Morley Ernstein--but I -use, perhaps, a wrong expression, it was not altogether unseen; and, -though I am so near the end of my history, where events press for -attention rather than scenes or sensations, I must still pause for a -moment to show how he saw without seeing, and felt without perceiving.</p> - -<p class="normal">When Lieberg had left him, and his orders had been given, he went -forth from the house with his heart full of strong emotions. He stood -upon the promontory over the cave, and gazed, or seemed to gaze, -across the wide world of waters, lighted by the setting sun. Though he -had heard many things that day to interest and occupy him--though he -had learned that Veronica had abandoned the world and taken the veil, -and that Juliet was once more drawing near,--his mind was fixed upon -himself, and upon the act he had just done, an act as great and -important to him and to his future fate as if he had conquered a -kingdom. He had broken a tie, bound round him by circumstances with -such close and intimate folds, that it had appeared as if it could -never be totally dissevered. He had cast off a fatal companionship for -ever, which had endured already too long. By a strong effort of -determination, he had repudiated a society which seemed destined to -corrupt all the pure current of his blood, like the envenomed garment -of Alcides, though happily for himself he had thrown it from him -before it had entered into his flesh.</p> - -<p class="normal">He stood, then, upon that promontory with his head erect, and his arms -folded on his broad chest; feeling that he had done a right and a -great act, that he had executed a strong and high determination, and -deriving from the very fact the conscious dignity which the powerful -performance of a wise resolution always imparts to the human mind. He -marked not the sunset and its splendour--he marked not the illuminated -ocean, or the classic shores in their purple shadows--he marked not -the fire of the western sky, or the clouds glowing into a blaze above, -but the whole sank into his spirit through the eye, and seemed to -elevate his own sensations more and more by the harmonious tone of -every thing around. He felt that it was in such a scene, in such a -climate, in such an hour, that man might well do deeds worthy of his -immortal soul. That under the eye of Heaven, and with the brightest of -Heaven's works on every side, he might well purify his heart of its -dross, and cast from him every baser thing. It was not unseen, then, -all the loveliness that surrounded him; it was not unfelt; but in the -busy turmoil of his own thoughts, it was unmarked.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ere the sun had quite gone down, however, his mind became more calm, -he recollected where he stood, he ran his eye along the line of coast, -he raised it to the sky above, he gazed pensively at the sea below his -feet, and marked the long, bow-like sails that skimmed across the -waters towards the resting-place for the night.</p> - -<p class="normal">The whole bay and the sea beyond it were alive with boats, and Morley -Ernstein thought: "Amongst all those is probably one that bears to the -same shore with myself; her who, I once believed was to be my leading -star to every high act and noble purpose; but who has left me in -darkness and despair. Over those waters, her bark is steering, and, -perhaps, her mind, no longer with the eye of memory, sees him whom she -once loved any more than her corporeal eye beholds me here. How calm -everything is, how tranquil; and that small cloud, catching the last -rays of the sun, glows like the conscious cheek of love. I wonder why -all the boats are hurrying into Naples. This seems to me the very hour -for lingering on the sea. I will go out and sail again;" and as he -thus thought, he beckoned one of his boatmen, whom he saw on the beach -below, to come up by the steps in the rock and speak with him. Ere the -man could reach him, however, a change had come over the whole scene. -The waves in the bay became crested with white foam--a sudden rushing -sound was heard. Then came a light breath of air; and then a number of -orange trees and large oleanders, which were ranged upon the terrace -of the villa, were levelled with the ground in a moment by a violent -gust of wind. Morley himself, strong and powerful as he was, was -obliged to catch at a great ilex for support.<a name="div4Ref_02" href="#div4_02"><sup>[2]</sup></a> Leaves and branches -were torn up and whirled away, and a thin, dusty film was carried -suddenly over sea and land, not sufficient to intercept the sight, but -to render all the lately glowing features of the scene grey and sad. -Whistling and screaming through the branches of the trees, over the -rocks and stones; and through the windows and porticos the storm -rushed on, and the Neapolitan servants ran hither and thither, closing -the windows and increasing the din and confusion by their shouts, and -outcries, and gesticulations. As soon as he had somewhat recovered -himself, Morley placed his back against the tree, the large branches -of which were waving to and fro like reeds, and gazed out upon the -sea. When he had last looked in that direction he had seen a vessel, -apparently steering from Capri, and sailing gallantly on towards -Sorrento. He had then regarded it with that indefinite feeling of -interest which often attaches to one particular thing amongst many -similar ones, we cannot tell why or wherefore. Perhaps it was a -thought which casually struck him that Juliet might be on board of -that polacca, which caused him to look at the vessel I have mentioned -more intently than any of the rest. But whatever it might be she had -formed a beautiful object in the view, with all sails set, and the -last red light of the sun dying her canvas with bright crimson. When -he turned his eyes towards her again, however, now that the squall was -raging with such fury; he could hardly believe she was the same ship. -One of her masts was gone, and seemed to lay over the side, only -attached to the vessel by the cordage. It was evident that the crew -were taking in sail, and endeavouring to ease her in every way; but -while Morley still gazed, the other mast went overboard, and she lay a -complete log on the water, with the gale still blowing tremendously -and dead upon the shore and the night coming rapidly on.</p> - -<p class="normal">Climbing slowly up the stairs in the rock, the boatman, to whom Morley -had beckoned, now approached him with difficulty, and the young -Englishman, pointing to the vessel in distress, asked if he knew what -she was. He replied that she was some Sicilian polacca, and that he -had seen her lying off Capri while they were out sailing in the -morning.</p> - -<p class="normal">"She'll not see another day rise," added the man. "Many a poor sinner -has gone to purgatory already to-night. Did you see that felucca upset -and go down, sir, just as she was getting round the point?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," answered Morley, "no; but we must not leave that ship to perish. -You must get out the boat--I will go off to her."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man laughed at the very idea. It is true, the wind was blowing -dead upon the land, the sea running tremendously high, the gale -scarcely abated at all of its fury, and the night coming on dark and -stormy, the heavens looking totally unlike the pure, clear, starlit -skies that had hung above them for the last six weeks. While he was -still arguing with his master, however, a faint, distant flash, and -the booming roar of a gun from the polacca, appealed to the heart of -the young Englishman for help; and assuming a somewhat sterner tone, -he bade the man gather together his companions and prepare the boat, -in the language of command. He obeyed so far as collecting together -the rest of the boatmen went, but no progress was made in getting the -boat ready, and they remained drawn into a knot, talking eagerly and -gesticulating violently, screaming, shouting, grinning, laughing, and -almost weeping, in a manner that can only be seen in Italy.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley waited for a minute or two with some impatience, and then -approaching them, used every means that the reader may conceive to -induce them to accompany him. He succeeded so far, at length, that one -of the younger men yielded, and declared he would go, if the <i>padrone</i>< br> -would but stay a quarter of an hour to let the wind go down. Such a -squall, he said, never lasted long, and at all events it would be more -moderate. The consent of one soon brought that of the rest, and Morley -ordered them, in the meantime, to make every preparation. Hoping -perhaps that he would change his purpose, they contrived to extend the -quarter of an hour to nearly double that time, notwithstanding all -their master's impatience and reiterated commands, while the darkness -increased, and gun after gun told the dangerous situation of the -vessel, and each showed, by the greater brightness of the flash and -loudness of the sound, that she was driving rapidly upon the rocky -coast.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, however, an effort was made; the boat was pushed out of the -cove, and rowed through the calmer water of the little bay. A -tremendous sea was still running beyond, although the violence of wind -had certainly somewhat diminished, and old Adam Gray, who, without a -word, had watched the proceedings of his master, knowing too well that -attempt to restrain him would be in vain, now, from the top of the -rock, gazed at the boat rushing out into the waves, and kept his eyes -upon it till it was lost to his sight amidst the dark struggling -waters. He tried to catch it again, but in vain; all was dim upon the -face of the sea; and then turning his eyes towards the spot where the -signals of distress, from time to time, showed the position of the -polacca, he remained with his grey hair floating in the wind, and his -heart full of sad and anxious apprehensions.</p> - -<p class="normal">After a time the firing ceased, and the old man muttered to -himself--"They have either reached her, or she has gone down." Then -came the longest and most terrible space of expectation. Everything -was darkness around; the only sound that interrupted the silence was -the fierce rushing of the wind, which still continued to blow with -awful fury; the sky at the same time was covered with clouds, so that -no light fell upon the waters, and the only sight that met the eyes of -old Adam Gray, as he gazed down from above, was the white foaming tops -of the waves, which seemed boiling as in a cauldron.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I wonder," he thought, "if I were to pile up a beacon here, whether -he would understand what it meant? At all events it would shew him the -villa and the rocks, so as to enable him to steer. I will try it at -all risks;" and calling to several of the other servants, who were -down below looking out as well as himself, he made them gather -together a quantity of old wood which had been left in a corner of the -vineyard, and with one or two decayed olive-trees, which had just been -cut down, a fire was soon lighted on the extreme verge of the rock, -and in about ten minutes spread its red glare far and wide.</p> - -<p class="normal">Perhaps the good man expected that, besides giving light to any one -who might be wandering over the surface of the waters, it would enable -him also to see what was passing on the waves below; but in this he -was mistaken, and for a quarter of an hour longer he watched in vain. -During that time the wind subsided still more, and at length Adam Gray -thought he heard his master's voice raised loudly. A moment after, a -slight flash, like that of a pistol, was seen in the little bay, and -the rocks around echoed with the report.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Quick! light the torches--light the torches," cried the old man; and -taking one of the flambeaux which he had brought out, he ran down the -steps through the rock, to the place where the boat was usually hauled -up. The other servants followed, but before they reached the shore the -grating sound of her keel was heard, and the first sight presented to -the eyes of Adam Gray was his master, pale and dripping, carrying -across the narrow ledge of rock the form of a lady, whose face rested -on his shoulder, while her arms were clasped tightly round him.</p> - -<p class="normal">The blaze of the torches seemed to rouse her, or else it was -some words that Morley whispered, for she raised her head, -exclaiming--"Now, now, Morley, set me down! There are others need your -care."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not yet," said Morley; "not till you are under shelter. This, at -least, I have a right to do. Light us up the rocks, good Adam; the -rest stay here till you have got out the other women. Captain," he -added, speaking in Italian to a tall, athletic man, who had sprung to -the shore after him--"take care of your own people, and follow us to -the villa. Are you sure the other boat went down?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I saw it sink," replied the man, in a sad tone; and hurrying on up -the steps, with Juliet in his arms, Morley paused not till he had laid -her on a sofa in the saloon; then bending down his head he kissed her -cheek, saying--"Thank God!" After gazing on her for a moment, he -added--"Now I will see to your cousin. I fear she is much worse. Here, -my good women," he continued, speaking to the wife of the contadino -and her daughters, who had followed him into the house, "there is a -lady below who will much want your care. Come with me."</p> - -<p class="normal">In a few minutes he returned, bearing Lady Malcolm in his arms, -apparently lifeless. She was soon carried to his own bedroom, and -every means were employed to restore her that the experience of any of -the party could suggest. Juliet forgot herself and all she had -suffered in her anxiety for her cousin; but ere long, she had the -happiness to hear her utter a few words of thanks to them for all they -had done.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now leave her with me and her woman," said the wife of the contadino, -who had shown skill as well as tenderness in her care of the sufferer; -"a few hours' sleep will do more for her than anything else. Go with -that lady, girls," she continued, speaking to her own daughters; "and -find her some clothes, for she is very wet."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley led Juliet forth, and then, in the same grave tone in which he -had hitherto spoken, besought her to change her dress, and take some -refreshment and repose. "I must go myself," he added, "to make sure -that there is assistance at hand, in case of any of the poor wretches -in the other boat reaching the shore. Though they abandoned you and -their companions, we must not abandon them. Farewell; then, for -to-night. Lie down to rest. We shall meet again to-morrow--Juliet."</p> - -<p class="normal">Juliet gazed on him in silence and sadness, but made no reply, and -Morley left her.</p> - -<p class="normal">About an hour was spent by the young Englishman in sending people with -lights along the rocks, but without any result. The boat, with which -some of the seamen had left the ship, had, as the master of the vessel -said, gone down almost immediately, and the bodies of those that it -contained were not found for several days.</p> - -<p class="normal">With a slow and thoughtful step while the moon began to struggle with -the clouds, Morley Ernstein returned to his own dwelling, passed along -the corridor, gave some orders to Adam Gray, and entered the saloon. -To his surprise, on raising his eyes, he beheld Juliet standing as if -watching for his return. Morley paused for a moment, gazed at her with -a look full of emotions that could not be spoken; then closed the -door, and, advancing, threw his arms around her, and pressed her to -his heart. Juliet strove not to withdraw herself, but leaned her face -upon his bosom, and wept.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Juliet," he said, in a low voice, as he felt her heart throbbing -against his--"Juliet, we must never part! It is no longer happiness or -misery with me, Juliet--it is life or death. You are mine, or no other -sun ever rises for me again. Choose, Juliet--choose! The words of fate -are upon your lips. If you love me, you are mine--if you love me not, -I am nothing!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do--I do," cried Juliet, throwing her own arms around him, and -speaking with a vehemence that he had never known her use; "I do love -you, Morley--I always have loved you--I never loved any but you. Think -not you have suffered alone, Morley,--oh, I have endured more than it -is possible for human language to declare! Can you doubt that I love -you? if you do, tell me how you will have me prove my love, and I am -ready to do it, even though the breaking of my vow should break my -heart, and destroy me here, as well as bring wrath upon my head -hereafter. Speak, Morley--speak!--Love you? Oh, yes! better than any -thing on earth--better, I fear, than heaven!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley clasped her closer to his heart, and pressed his lips again and -again upon her brow and cheek; they burned, as if with fire. She had -asked him what he would have her do, and now he told her, with all the -eloquent words of passion. He saw her gaze wildly upon him: he thought -that she hesitated. Then all the fell words with which Lieberg had -urged him came back to his memory, and he was about to employ their -power upon her also--from the tempted to become the tempter! But -happily--oh most happily for both, Juliet replied before he had -blasted her esteem.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Say no more, Morley," she said--"say no more--I am yours for ever;" -and she put her hand in his. "Oh, Lord God!" she added, "if I sin in -breaking the solemn vow I made to those who first gave me life, -forgive me in thy mercy! But for him, on whose account I break it, -that life which they gave would now be at an end. His is the existence -that I henceforth possess, and surely it can be no crime to dedicate -it all to him! I will try, Morley," she continued--"I will try to -forget that vow that I have made to those who are dead, or to think -that I am now exempt from its obligation; yet I fear it will often -return to make your Juliet sad, and that my peace of mind will always -be disturbed by the thought of a parent's curse."</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley cast down his eyes as one bewildered. He gazed thoughtfully on -the ground for several moments. He trembled at the feeling of a great -escape; and then he murmured--"Here has been some mistake--here has -been some mistake!--Tell me, Juliet, what was this vow? It cannot be -binding on you now, but yet I must hear it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hear it, Morley, and decide for me," said Juliet, with a melancholy -look; "the vow is a double one. My mother, Morley, on her -death-bed--after a life of grief and sorrow for having disobeyed her -own parent--exacted from me a solemn pledge that I would never become -the wife of any man to whom my father forbade me to give my hand. -Morley, he did forbid me to unite myself to you. He demanded from me a -vow that I would not, on my duty as his child, and his last words were -the bitterest--the-most awful curse upon my head if I disobeyed."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a step in the room, which caused Juliet to turn her head, -while Morley, whose face was towards the door, made an impetuous sign -to the person who had entered to retire; but old Adam Gray came in -with a respectful, but a determined countenance, and Juliet, with a -glowing cheek, withdrew herself from Morley's arm.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I beg your pardon, Sir Morley," cried the old man; "but what I have -to say must be said--I can keep it down no longer; I care not whether -it offends or not! I have loved you from a boy, sir, and will tell you -the truth, even though it make you angry. The young lady that you are -talking to--I do not mean to say anything against her--though she has -made you unhappy enough, I'm sure."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Quit the room, Adam Gray!" exclaimed Morley sternly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not till I've told you, sir," replied the old servant "I've heard -it's her father's will makes her do all this; but she is no more what -she fancies herself than I am. Your father always said, sir, that she -was not old Carr's daughter, and wished Lady Malcolm--that is, Lady -Clavering, as I ought to call her now--to try it with him. That was -the cause of the quarrel; for your father said he was a swindler; and, -you know, all Mrs. Carr's property went to Lady Malcolm, if she had -not a child; and so, when their baby died, he got this young lady up -from Sergeant More's wife, who had it to nurse; but the cheat was as -plain as possible, for this baby was six weeks old, and the other but -a day or two; but as poor Mrs. Carr was so ill that she knew nothing -about it, and the baby was brought up by hand, nobody could prove it -then, except the nurse and Mrs. More. I can prove it now, however, and -that I will, too, let come of it what may."</p> - -<p class="normal">The old man paused to take breath, for he had spoken with all the -eager rapidity of one who, having broken through habitual respect, is -fearful lest the impulse which gave him courage to do so should fail -him. The effect produced upon Morley and Juliet, however, was very -different from what he expected. At first both seemed bewildered; but -then a look of joy and satisfaction inexpressible came upon his -master's countenance, and casting his arms round her he loved, Morley -exclaimed--"Mine--mine, Juliet!--you are mine, without a fear and -without a regret, without one cloud to shadow the sunshine of our -love!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, is it--can it be true?" cried Juliet. "Tell me--tell me," she -continued, disengaging herself from Morley's embrace, and laying her -hand upon the old man's arm--"can you prove it?--can you shew, beyond -a doubt, that I am not his child? I would give anything--I would give -everything--but, alas!" she added, suddenly recollecting herself, "if -it be as you say, Adam Grey, I shall have nothing to give--I shall be -a beggar, Morley.--Will you value your Juliet less?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"A thousand-fold more, dearest!" replied her lover. "There was an -internal conviction of the truth in my heart, from the very first. I -was sure that old man could not be your father--that the same blood -never ran in his veins and in yours."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And whose then is the blood that runs in mine?" said Juliet, -thoughtfully. "It is strange, Morley--very strange!--and yet I own -that I am most thankful to God it is as it is; for amongst many -painful things that I have endured through life, one of the most -painful has been, a conviction that I was not really an affectionate -and tender daughter--that I could not love my father as natural -impulse would prompt one to do. Often have I struggled with myself, -often have I wept over my own sensations, and have thought that, -though he was unkind, and cold, and bitter towards me, if I had really -the feelings which a child ought to have, I should forget every sort -of harsh and chilling act in filial love. But, oh! I do regret my -mother--I do regret my poor mother!--she was always gentle and -affectionate, and fond of me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because she <i>thought</i> you were her child; and he <i>knew</i> you were not -his," replied Adam Gray--"that was the cause of the difference, Miss -Juliet; and though I can't understand how you and Sir Morley have -settled matters, so as to seem very happy at what I feared might make -you otherwise, I hope you will forgive me; and as to proving it, I -have got Mrs. More's declaration myself, signed with her own hand, and -her daughter has got all the papers which the old woman left at her -death. I promised not to say a word till she was dead, and should not, -indeed, have told it now, but that I thought you were ill using my -poor master, Miss Juliet."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I hope I have not done so," said Juliet, with a sad smile at the old -man's bluntness. "One may sometimes be obliged to make those they love -unhappy, without ill using them. Adam Gray, I think you should have -known me better. But, however, perhaps now I may have the power of -rendering him happy instead. Morley, you seem sad."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," answered Morley, "I am not, my beloved; but even in intense -joy itself, such as I now experience, there may be a melancholy, -Juliet--at all events a pensiveness--as there must be, indeed, as long -as man feels in his own heart that he is utterly unworthy of the -goodness and mercy of God. Together with the sensation of relief and -blessing which was given me by the tidings of this night, and the -knowledge that you are mine without one shade of regret hanging over -our union, came the recollection of how little I had merited such joy, -how I had repined and struggled, how many evil acts I had actually -been guilty of under the influence of despair, how many more I might -have been tempted to commit, how many I was upon the very eve of -plunging into. I must not tell you, Juliet--I cannot tell you all that -my words to you this very night implied, before I found what were -really the ties that bound you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Say not a word, dear Morley--say not a word," replied Juliet, sadly -but tenderly; "it has been bitter enough to know that I have been -making you wretched as well as myself. What would it be to think that -I had plunged you into any evil?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is past, Juliet--it is past!" said Morley; "and though the last -year will ever remain upon my memory as one dark and gloomy spot, yet, -dear girl, it may be no disadvantage to me to be a humbler man for the -rest of my life, from sad experience of my own weakness.--But hark!" -he exclaimed, hearing a sound unusual in that remote place, "there is -the galloping of a horse's feet. I hope no bad news from Sorrento. Run -down and see, good Adam, and bring me word quickly."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER LVIII.</h4> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein had not been alone in watching with eager terror the -progress of the storm, and the wreck of the Sicilian polacca, on the -night, with the events of which, we have lately been busy. Helen -Barham, also, had seen the first effects of the squall, with terror -the more intense, because she knew, not only that Juliet must be at -that very time upon the waters, but also because she was aware that -she must be within a few leagues of the shore of Sorrento, upon which -the wind was blowing with such dreadful vehemence. Juliet had written -her a note from Capri, where they had paused for an hour or two to see -the island, and had even so accurately described the vessel, that -Helen had seen and recognised it before the storm began. Each howl of -the gale, when it first commenced, made her heart sink with -apprehension; and though there be some people in the world, -unfortunately, who may dream that thoughts would come across Helen's -mind to check if not to mitigate her anxiety for her friend, yet be it -said, most truly, that Helen only remembered Juliet at that moment as -one who had ever been tender and kind, who had been a sister to her -when the ties of kindred failed, who had loved her with disinterested -love, and soothed her in the time of sorrow and mourning.</p> - -<p class="normal">As soon it was possible, notwithstanding the fury of the wind, she -went out to the highest point of the coast, though it required all the -strength of Harry Martin, and another strong man, to steady her steps. -But Helen could not resolve to remain within, while one whom she so -dearly loved was perishing amidst the waves; and on the top of the -promontory she found a number of Italians, gazing out likewise, with -their eyes all fixed upon that vessel--now mastless and abandoned to -the fury of the waters--which was growing dimmer and more dim to their -sight, as the beams of day were fading away from the sky. Then came -the signals of distress, and all those terrible moments, ere the -polacca was totally hidden by the night. But Helen, though powerless, -remained not inactive; she endeavoured, though in vain, to induce the -fishermen to put off a boat; she enquired fruitlessly for any persons -more venturous than the rest; she offered sums that seemed of -incredible magnitude to the poor Sorrentines, for any one who would go -forth to give aid to the vessel in distress. None would undertake it; -and as the night went on, one by one the people who had been assembled -dropped away, and left her standing there, still gazing out into the -darkness, but unable to tear herself from the spot.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, the same idea struck Harry Martin, which had occurred to -old Adam Gray. "In half an hour from this time, madam," he said, "that -ship will be upon these rocks. Will it not be better to get a number -of men, with torches, all ready to help and save as many of the crew -as possible?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, yes, yes!" cried Helen; "fly, by all means, fly, and collect as -many as possible. Pay them well, and promise a large reward for every -life that is saved. Go quick, my good friend, go quick! I will return -to the villa with the courier. I fear I can do no good here. Never -mind me, Martin, but gather the people together, as fast as possible."</p> - -<p class="normal">According to her orders, Harry Martin left her; and after remaining -for about ten minutes more, Helen was turning to go back to her own -dwelling, when one of the servants of the villa came up seeking for -her in the darkness to tell her that some people had been sent over to -Sorrento by Sir Morley Ernstein, who entertained some apprehensions -regarding her safety. Scarcely had the man spoken, when the dim forms -of two or three other persons were seen sauntering up the rocky road, -and Helen, somewhat alarmed at what she heard, and not liking their -appearance, hastened her steps. She passed another and another, -without being able in the obscurity to discern their faces; and the -sound of footfalls following, made her heart beat strangely. At length -four men presented themselves, linked arm in arm, and at the same -moment a loud whistle was heard from those behind. At that signal an -immediate rush was made upon Helen, and those who were with her. The -two men were knocked down in an instant; and Helen, caught up by arms -which it was in vain to resist, was borne away, shrieking, and calling -for help in vain.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This way, Eccellenza, this way!" cried a voice, in Italian, while the -speaker apparently ran on before; "round by this wall, and the back of -the houses, or we shall be stopped. Once on the road to Vico, and we -are safe. The house you bade us get, is that way--the other men will -take care we are not pursued. Here, round to the right, sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen ceased not, however, to cry for help, as long as strength -remained, but it was in vain, and for two miles the man who carried -her bore her on with a rapidity that made his own breath come thick -and hard. At length as they were entering what seemed a wilder, and -less cultivated part of the country, where the walls of the vineyards -and gardens had ceased, and nothing was before them but the hills -covered with their odoriferous plants, he paused, saying--"I must stop -for a minute. Bid the men make a circle round us."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh!" cried Helen; "for pity's sake let me go. What have I done to -injure you? If you will let me go, you shall have any ransom that you -name."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ransom!" he replied, speaking in English and in a voice too well -known; "half a world should not ransom you, till you become a thing -that you yourself loathe and hate. You scorned my love in England, you -scorned it still more bitterly at Rome, but now I have you amongst -these wild hills, and the God that delivers you, will be a God indeed! -Come on, my men, come on;" he continued, "see, the moon is breaking -through the clouds, and the wind is going down, we are still too near -the houses.--Come on, quick, I say; I think I hear a horse's feet."</p> - -<p class="normal">Helen heard the same sound, and shrieked aloud for aid, but help did -not come; they hurried her on: the echo of the horse's feet died away, -and Lieberg said, in a bitter tone--"He hears not the sweet music; or, -like the deaf adder, he stoppeth his ear to the song of the charmer. -Your mode of journeying is unpleasant, perhaps; it will soon be over, -lady, so content yourself for a time."</p> - -<p class="normal">When he had gone about a quarter of a mile farther, however, a distant -noise met the ears of the whole party, not like the noise of one -horse's feet, but as if there were many, coming up at the full gallop -by the same path which they were pursuing. Helen found her -persecutor's arms clasped more tightly round her, while his pace grew -still more rapid; and, confirmed by these signs in the faint hope she -entertained of assistance being near, she again called aloud for help.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Tie this over her mouth," cried one of the men, giving Lieberg a -handkerchief; "they cannot trace us here, unless her screams bring -them up."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That accursed moon will betray us," exclaimed Lieberg. "Cannot we get -down into the hollow way?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"They will hem us in there," cried the man. "By the body of Bacchus, -they have got round, and are before us! Bend down, Eccellenza, bend -down!--Curse that screaming! I will drive my knife into her!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here, take her," cried Lieberg. "We shall have to fight them.--Call -up some of the men from behind.--Tie her, and keep her here; they -cannot be so many as we are. We will soon disperse them.--Here come -three, right down upon us--call up some of the men from behind, I -say!"</p> - -<p class="normal">The man to whom he spoke uttered the same loud whistle that Helen had -heard before, but at that moment were heard two or three shots from -the ground which they had just passed over, and then a whole volley, -while the three horsemen, who had galloped on and intercepted -Lieberg's farther progress, caught sight of him, by the clear -moonlight and were coming down at full speed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Huzza! we have them--we have them!" cried the voice of Harry -Martin.--"In God's name, leave him to me, Sir Morley.--You look to the -lady."</p> - -<p class="normal">But as he spoke, two of Lieberg's hired ruffians rushed up, in that -picturesque, and never-to-be-mistaken costume which the Italian -bandits have affected, with the ribands on their hats floating wildly -in the gale, and their long guns carried easily in their hands.</p> - -<p class="normal">"We cannot help you," they cried--"we cannot help you, they are too -many for us. Bertolo is down, and so is Marino."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But strike one stroke," exclaimed Lieberg, furiously; "here are but -three before us."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But there are twenty behind," answered one of the men. "However, here -goes;" and raising his gun to his shoulder, he fired.</p> - -<p class="normal">His companion followed his example the very moment after, and -instantly one of their opponents went down, horse and man together. -Another horse reared and plunged, but darted forward again with a -staggering pace, and the horseman finding that the beast was wounded, -sprang to the ground, and cast away the rein. The other man, who had -fallen also, started up, and two of Lieberg's companions each taking a -separate way, turned and fled. The man who still remained mounted, was -turning his rein to pursue them, but the voice of Morley Ernstein -stopped him, exclaiming--"This way--this way! There stands the villain -himself. I know him but too well."</p> - -<p class="normal">"This for you, Sir Morley Ernstein," shouted Lieberg, levelling a -pistol, and firing at the same moment.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley staggered back, but the ball, discharged from too great a -distance, only hurt him slightly, and the next moment he darted -forward again.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Shall I kill her?" cried the Italian, who stood beside Lieberg.</p> - -<p class="normal">His master paused for a single instant, then caught Helen up again in -his arms, asking "The cliff is near, is it not?" and without waiting a -reply, he ran with the swiftness of lightning up the side of the -hill. The moon was now shining clear, as I have said, and the whole -party beheld and followed him. The man on horseback contrived to turn -him once, as a greyhound does a hare, but neither Morley nor Harry -Martin, though by their companion's manœuvre they gained upon him -considerably, dared to fire for fear of hitting Helen.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length Lieberg paused, but it was only on the very verge of the -rock overlooking the sea; and there he stood, laughing aloud with the -peculiar mocking laugh, which always marked that he thought he had won -the day. His tall, magnificent form was seen clear and distinct by the -moonlight, and Morley and those who were with him, not three paces -distant, could even distinguish his features and the look of dark and -savage triumph by which they were animated.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Keep back, Sir Morley Ernstein," he cried, "and hear a word or two! -When first we met, I felt that the fate of one of us depended on the -other. You have me at bay, but I have my advantage too. If you drive -me over this precipice, you not only destroy a woman who loves you, -but you kill your own brother--Ay! your father's son, Sir Morley, by a -lady of higher rank than your own low-born dame. Have you any scruples -of paternal tenderness?--I have none!" and at the same moment he -clasped Helen tightly round the waist with his left arm, and stretched -out his right with a second pistol in the act to fire.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ere he could draw the trigger, however, with a bound, which cleared -the intervening space in an instant, Harry Martin was upon him. One -powerful arm was cast round Helen tearing her from her persecutor; the -other pressed a pistol right into Lieberg's ear. The cock fell--there -was a flash and a report; and, reeling back, with Helen in his arms, -from the edge of the precipice over which he had nearly fallen in his -effort to rescue her, the hardy Englishman exclaimed--"I have saved -you--by God, I have saved you!"</p> - -<p class="normal">And where was Lieberg? He had disappeared; and though Sir Morley -Ernstein caused long and diligent search to be made for his body under -the cliffs upon the following morning, it was nowhere to be found. The -sea did not approach near enough to have washed it away; none of the -peasants or fishermen had seen or heard of it; and the only thing that -could give any indication of his fate, was a drop or two of blood on -the spot where he had stood.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER LIX.</h4> -<br> - -<p class="normal">There are few sensations that affect the heart of man which -are more -impressive, I might almost say sublime, than those which he feels when -he wakes from the first sleep that is afforded to him after strange -and stirring events, when some vast change has been effected, when -some great result has been achieved. During that dark and terrible -night--that night so full of joy and pain, which we have spoken of in -the last chapter, Morley Ernstein obtained but little refreshing -repose. Much confusion and agitation took place in his own dwelling -after he returned thither with Helen Barham; and the emotions of joy, -we all know, are not less exciting than even those of grief.</p> - -<p class="normal">The meeting between Juliet and Helen was in itself affecting to both, -and equally so to him who witnessed it; but Helen Barham was the same -as she had always been--generous and enthusiastic in her affections, -and thinking far less of herself than others. When Morley, indeed, led -her into the room where Juliet waited his return with anxious -expectation, her heart fluttered, and her lips murmured a few words -which might perhaps be prayer; but she cast her arms round her friend, -and told her all the terror and the anguish she had felt while -uncertain of her fate upon the sea.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But now," she added, after the events which had just taken place upon -the hill had been related to their fair auditor--"from all I see, and -from a few words which he has spoken, dear Juliet, I believe I may -thank God, not only for saving you from destruction, but for restoring -you fully to him towards whom I am such a debtor. To see you two happy -will be the greatest of happiness to me, for, indeed, I may well say -that I love you both, better than any beings on this earth; and I am -very sure, as no one can ever confer such benefits upon me as you have -done, so will no one ever arise even to share in that affection which -is your due from me."</p> - -<p class="normal">In conversation such as this, and in enquiries, explanations, and -arrangements, two or three hours passed after Morley's return, and it -wanted but a short time of the dawn when he laid his head down to -rest. Thought occupied that space, and the sky was growing grey with -the approach of daylight, when sleep fell upon the young Englishman's -eyes. He slept for about two hours, then rose, and went out to gaze -over the sea. All was calm and tranquil. The storm which had swept the -waters on the preceding evening had passed away; sunshine, and -brightness, and tranquillity, had returned; and Morley could not help -finding a symbol in the atmospheric changes of that night, of the -workings of his own fate, which had just taken place. He felt that a -tempest had swept over him, had passed, and had left a calm to come -back again and soothe his heart. He raised his voice to God, and -thanked him for the infinity of his mercies.</p> - -<p class="normal">Morley Ernstein had yet more to be grateful for than perhaps he -already knew; but he was quite satisfied with his fate, and sought to -enquire no farther. He comprehended easily how, with rash haste, he -had concluded that Juliet had become Lady Clavering, and would have -asked no farther questions on a subject, the very memory of which was -painful to him, had not the good Countess herself, with her usual -kindly simplicity, thought it right to explain to her young friend--as -soon as she could get down, on the day following the shipwreck--all -the reasons and motives of her marriage with Lord Clavering.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I dare say you, my dear Morley," she said, "and a great number of -other people, thought it a very silly thing for an old woman like -myself to do, and perhaps for my good lord also; but we have known -each other for some thirty years, and have seen each other at periods -of great grief for the loss of those we loved better than we shall -ever love again. We both found ourselves somewhat solitary in life; -and therefore, when I saw that Juliet here had made up her mind to -give her hand to you, I listened to the proposal of Lord Clavering, -though I had some time before hesitated to agree to it. You may be -very sure, my dear Morley, that neither wealth nor station was my -object; for though my income was a very limited one, I always made it -answer my purposes, and, at all events, it was as great as my -ambition."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Had you waited a little," said Morley, looking at Juliet with a -smile, "your fortune would have been much increased."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lady Clavering was surprised, but the tale was soon told, and Adam -Gray himself sent for to explain the whole. He now repeated what he -had said the night before; but as a proof of his assertions, had -produced a paper which the widow of Sergeant More had signed, as the -reader may recollect, when she was journeying over with him and her -daughter to Doncaster. By this she acknowledged that, shortly after -her arrival in England, whither she had come after leaving her husband -with the army, she had taken up her abode in a small Yorkshire -village, between Morley Court and Yelverly, with three children of her -own, and one infant, the daughter of an officer in the Austrian -service, which she had brought from the Continent, leaving its father -dying, and its mother dead. She received some kindness from the father -of Sir Morley Ernstein on her first arrival, and he had seen the -infant she brought. But before she had been a week in the cottage she -inhabited, Mr. Carr himself came down one night in haste, and -concluded with her a bargain, by which, for the sum of two hundred -pounds, and the promise of future protection and support, she gave up -to him the infant which she had brought to England, and taking the -dead child in its place, pretended that her little charge had fallen -sick and expired. The motive assigned by Mr. Carr for his part of this -proceeding was, that his wife would go distracted if she found her -child had died. But Mrs. More soon began to hear rumours of a -different sort; Sir Morley Ernstein's father came down to her, and -with kindly, though serious admonitions, besought her to tell the -truth in regard to the death of the child, as a considerable property -was at stake. Mr. Carr himself ultimately acknowledged the fact to -her; but by payment of a second sum, and obtaining her husband's -promotion, induced her to go with Sergeant More to India, where she -remained for eighteen or nineteen years.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such were the contents of the paper which Adam Gray now read, but Jane -Martin, he said, possessed all the more important documents, and she -was soon brought from Sorrento, to throw what light she could upon the -case. She produced four curious documents, perfectly sufficient to -confirm all that the old man had asserted. The first, was another -clear statement by Mrs. More herself precisely similar in all material -points to the other: it was drawn up by her own hand, signed and -witnessed. The next, was an acknowledgment of the facts which she had -extracted from Mr. Carr before she would consent to leave England. The -third, was a certificate in German of the birth of Juliet Willoughby; -and the fourth, a letter from her father, Captain Willoughby, to the -rector of some parish in Yorkshire, recommending the child to his -care, and begging him to interest the writer's elder brother in the -poor orphan. On this letter was written, in Mrs. More's hand--"The -rector had died of the fever before I got to England."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Shew me those two last papers," cried Lady Clavering, as Morley read -them aloud; "let me see them, Morley--let me see them! Juliet, my dear -child," she continued, casting her arms around her, after she had read -and re-read the papers, "if you have lost one father, you have found -another--that Captain Willoughby is my husband!"</p> - -<p class="normal">It were needless to trouble the reader with farther explanations, or -to ask his permission, like the vanquished party after a battle, to -bury our dead. If he will turn to the first part of this volume, he -will see the reference made by Lord Clavering himself--which, -probably, he skipped at the time, as being irrelevant to the history -before him--to some of the circumstances of his early life, and I can -afford him no farther information, not possessing any myself. Suffice -it, that nobleman, on his arrival at Naples, about a fortnight -afterwards, held Juliet to his heart, and wept over her as a long-lost -child; and that without any tedious delay, he united his daughter to -the man whom she had always loved.</p> - -<p class="normal">For Morley, he was happier than even imagination, warmed by love and -expectation, had been able to paint; and with Juliet by his side, let -it be said, the good "<i>Tenant of the heart</i>" the high, the holy, and -the pure--the spirit of the soul, maintained a perpetual sway over her -more earthly comrade.</p> - -<p class="normal">Some five or six years after the period of this tale, the two -cottages, which we have described as seated in the little glen near -Warmstone Castle, appeared thrown into one, decorated with shrubs and -flowers, and, generally, with three or four rosy children running -about the doors. From the little garden-gate every morning, half an -hour after sun-rise, might be seen to ride forth a very powerful man, -growing, perhaps, a little heavy withal, but mounted on a stout -Yorkshire horse, well fitted to carry him. The labourers and tenants -touched their hat to the steward; and, though with a wary and a -watchful eye he perambulated the property, seeing that no injustice -was done to his beloved mistress, yet all the people on the land -declared that Mr. Martin was a kind, good man; that he was tender to -the poor, charitable to all, liberal to the active and industrious, -and, above all things, clement, and no way harsh to an unconfirmed -wrong-doer; for he himself well knew, that, whatever magistrates or -lawgivers may say, <i>Mercy has power to reclaim</i>.</p> - -<p class="normal">And of her, the mistress of the mansion, what have we to tell? That -Helen remained Helen Barham still, in mind, in character, as well as -in name. If there was regret resting as a shade upon her mind, if -there was disappointment amongst the memories of the heart, the pure, -high spirit, veiled them from all eyes; and though I must not say she -<i>struggled with</i> them--for there was nothing like contention in her -breast, after Juliet and Morley were once united--yet she <i>repressed</i>< br> -all selfish feelings, and saw the happiness that their union produced, -with a bright, though grave, tranquillity. She laid out for herself, -from that moment, her course of life. In the fair and calm abode which -seemed to have been prepared expressly for her, she passed her future -years in diffusing happiness and sunshine round her. The cottage knew -her step well; and a class above that found her a kind and indulgent -lady, healing all wounds, reconciling all differences, and silencing -clamour and complaint. It was very seldom throughout the whole -neighbourhood, that sweet smile, and that soft voice, would not -prevail, even where every harsher means had been tried in vain. She -was a good neighbour, too, and a good friend; and her beauty, her -extraordinary beauty, remained undiminished for many years. It was as -if the pure and noble spirit had a balmy and preserving influence even -upon her corporeal frame. There is one thing strange, however, in -regard to her fate; though many admired the lovely woman, and many -coveted the hand of the wealthy heiress, no one ever ventured to ask -that boon of Helen Barham.</p> - -<p class="normal">Several years afterwards she besought Juliet to allow her to adopt one -of her children, and make him heir of the property which had once been -his father's. The boy spent several months with her in each succeeding -year; and once--but only once--as he looked up with a bright and -beaming smile in Helen's face, while she parted the beautiful hair -upon his brow, her eyes filled with tears, and she clasped him to her -bosom, with emotions that could not be restrained.</p> - -<p class="normal">And Lieberg! Was nothing, then, ever heard of him? Can one form no -conjecture, backed by sufficient probabilities, of his real fate?</p> - -<p class="normal">Reader, his body was never found; but his spirit, alas! still lives, -and pervades too many a scene, blasting with its presence what -otherwise might be bright. Happy is the man who has not a Lieberg -always, very, very near him!</p> - -<p class="normal">Where?</p> - -<p class="normal">In his own heart!</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> -<br> -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_01" href="#div4Ref_01">Footnote 1</a>: This is -now altered.</p> -<br> -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_02" href="#div4Ref_02">Footnote 2</a>: Let no -reader suppose that either the suddenness or the -violence of this storm is exaggerated. Such is by no means the case.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h3>THE END.</h3> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Morley Ernstein, by -G. P. R. 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