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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..f947048 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51715 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51715) diff --git a/old/51715-8.txt b/old/51715-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index f1b30e1..0000000 --- a/old/51715-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,17089 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Whim, and Its Consequences, 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: A Whim, and Its Consequences - Collection of British Authors Vol. CXIV - -Author: G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James - -Release Date: April 10, 2016 [EBook #51715] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A WHIM, AND ITS CONSEQUENCES *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (the New York Public Library) - - - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - - 1. Page scan source: Google Books - https://books.google.com/books?id=u6olAAAAMAAJ - (the New York Public Library) - 2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe]. - - - - - - -COLLECTION -OF -BRITISH AUTHORS. -VOL. CXIV. ----------- -A WHIM, AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. -IN ONE VOLUME. - - - - - - -A WHIM, -AND -ITS CONSEQUENCES. - -_COPYRIGHT EDITION_. - - - -LEIPZIG -BERNH. TAUCHNITZ JUN. -1847 - - - - - - -A WHIM, AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - - -A solitary room at midnight: a single wax candle lighted on the table: -the stiff dull crimson silken curtains of the bed close drawn: half a -dozen phials and two or three glasses. Is it the chamber of a sick -man? He must sleep sound if it be, for there is no noise--not even a -breath; and all without is as still as death. There is awe in the -silence; the candle sheds gloom, not light, the damask hanging sucks -up the rays, and gives nothing back: they sink into the dark wood -furniture: one could hear a mouse creep over the thick carpet; but -there is no sound! Is it the chamber of the dead? But where is the -watcher?--Away! and what matters it here? No one will come to disturb -the rest of that couch: no brawling voices, no creaking doors will -make vibrate the dull cold ear of death. Watch ye the living! The dead -need no watching: the sealed eyes and the clayed ears have sleep that -cannot be broken. - -But is it the watcher who comes back again through that slowly opening -door? No, that is a man; and we give all the more sad and solemn tasks -of life to women. A young man, too, with the broad, free brow -gathered into a sad, stern frown. He comes near the bed; he draws -slowly back the curtain, and, with the faint ray of the single -candle streaming in, gazes down upon the sight beneath. There -it lies, the clay--animate, breathing, thoughtful, full of feelings, -considerations, passions, pangs, not six-and-thirty hours before. But -now so silent, so calm, so powerfully grave: it seems to seize in its -very inertness upon the busy thoughts of others, and chain them down -to its own deadly tranquillity. - -It is the corpse of a man passed the prime, not yet in the decline, of -life. The hair is gray, not white; the skin somewhat wrinkled, but not -shrivelled. The features are fine, but stern; and there is a deep -furrow of a frown between the eyebrows, which even the pacifying -hand of death has not been able to obliterate. He must have been a -hard man, methinks. Yet how the living gazes on the dead! How -earnestly--how tenderly! His eyes, too, fill with tears. There must -have been some kindly act done, some tie of gratitude or affection -between those two. It is very often that those who are stern, but -just, win regard more long-enduring, deeper-seated, more intense, than -the blandishing, light-minded man of sweet and hollow courtesies. - -The tear overtops the eyelid, and falls upon the dark shooting-jacket; -and then, bending down his head, he presses his lips upon the marble -brow. A drop (of the heart's dew) will be found there in the morning; -for there is no warmth in that cold forehead to dry it up. - -The curtains are closed again; the room is once more vacant of breath. -The image of human life upon the table, that decreasing taper, gutters -down with droppings like those of a petrifying spring. A spark of -fire, like some angry passion of the heart, floats in the melted wax -above, nourishing its flaming self by wasting that it dwells in. Then -comes back the watcher, with bleared and vacant eyes, and lips that -smell of brandy. She has sense enough yet to stop the prodigal -consumer of her only companion of the night; and sitting down, she -falls asleep in the presence of death, as if she were quite familiar -with the grave, and had wandered amongst the multitudes that lie -beneath. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - - -It was the autumn of the year, when men who do such things, shoot -pheasants, and go hunting. The leaves had fallen from the trees, and -were blown about in heaps by the chill wind; or if any hung upon the -sapless branches, it was but as the tatters of a shroud on the dry -bones of some violated tomb; the grass in the fields was brown, and -beaten down by wind and storm; the streams were flooded with yellow -torrents from the hills, and waved about in wild confusion the thick, -fleshy stems of the water weeds; and the face of earth, cold and -spiritless like that of a corpse, glared up to the sunless sky, -without one promise of the glorious resurrection of the spring. It was -night, too, dull, gray night. The raven's wing brooded over the whole -world; clouds were upon the firmament; no moonbeam warmed with sweet -prophecy the edge of the vapour; but, dim and monotonous, the black -veil quenched the starry eyes of heaven, and the shrill wind that -whistled through the creaking tree-tops, stirred not even the edges of -that dun pall so as to afford one glimpse of things beneath. - -There was a dark clay-like smell in the air, too, a smell of decay; -for the vegetable world was rotting down into the earth, and the death -of the year's life made itself felt to every sense. All was dark, and -foul, and chilly as a tomb. - -With a quick, strong step, firm, well-planted, unwavering, a man -walked along with a stick over his shoulder, and a bundle on the hook -of the stick. There was nothing gay or lightsome in his gait. It -betokened strength, resolution, self-dependence, but not cheerfulness. -He whistled not as he went: the wind whistled enough for the whole -world. He neither looked up nor down, but straight forward on his way; -and though the blast beat upon his breast and over his cheek, though -the thin, sleety rain dashed in his face, and poked its icy fingers in -his eyes, on he went sturdily. He never seemed to feel it. He was -either young and hardy, or had bitter things in his heart which -armoured him against the sharp tooth of the weather--perhaps both. He -seemed to know his way well too, for he paused not to consider or look -round; but on--on, for many an hour he walked, till at length a stream -stopped him, hissing along under its sedgy banks, and in some places -overtopping them with the swollen waters. - -There he halted for an instant, but not longer; and then with a laugh, -short and not gay, he walked straight on, following the path. The -turbid torrent came to his knee, rose to the hip, reached his elbows. -"Deep enough!" said the night wanderer, but on he went. The stream -wrestled with, and shook him, tugged at his feet, strove to whirl him -round in its eddies, splashed up against his chest, and, like a hungry -serpent, seemed to lick the prey it was fierce to swallow up. He let -go the stick and the bundle, and swam. It was his only chance to reach -the other bank alive; but he uttered no cry, he called for no help: -perhaps he knew that it would be in vain. He could not conquer without -loss, though he gave the torrent buffet for buffet, but, like a -determined band fighting against a superior force, he smote still, -though turned from his direct course, and still made progress onward, -till catching the root of an old tree, he held firm, regained his -breath and his footing, and leaped upon the bank. - -"Who are you? and what do you want here?" asked a voice the moment -after, as he paused by the tree, and drew a deep breath. - -The wayfarer looked round, and saw, by what light there was a man of -apparently his own height and strength, standing by an alder near. "I -must first know where I am," he said in return, "before I can tell you -what I want." - -"Come, come, that will not do," replied the other; "you must have some -sharp object, to swim across such a night as this, and must know well -enough where you were coming, and what you were coming for. Who are -you? I say--and if you do no tell, I will make you." - -"That were difficult," answered the other; "but I will tell you what I -am, and why I swam the stream, if that will do. I am a man not of a -nature nor in a mood to be turned back. The river lay in my way, and -therefore I came over it; but I have lost my bundle, which is a pity; -and I am wetter than is pleasant." - -"As for your bundle," said the other, "that will stick upon Winslow -wear; and as for your being wet, I could help you to dry clothes if I -knew who you were." - -"Not knowing will not prevent you," rejoined the other. "Winslow -wear!--Now I know where I am. I was not aware I had walked so far by -seven good miles. Then I must be in Winslow park." - -"Not far wrong," said the other man; "but you seem to be a somewhat -strange lad, and wilful withal. As you have lost your bundle, however, -and got your clothes wet, you had better come with me; for after all, -I dare say you mean no harm, and I may as well help you to a dry -jacket." - -"I mean no harm to any one," was the reply; "and I think I must stop -somewhere near, for my clothes will not dry so soon to-night as they -would in the summer sunshine." - -"Certainly not," answered the other, "there is more chance of -saturation than evaporation." - -The swimmer of the stream turned suddenly and looked at him, in some -surprise: then fell into a fit of thought: and in the end, without -noticing his companion's fine words observed, "I am not getting any -dryer by standing here: and you are getting wetter; for the rain is -coming on more fiercely. If you have any will to give me shelter and -dry clothes, now is the time. If not, I must go and seek them -elsewhere." - -"Suppose I say you shan't," inquired the other, "what would you do -then?" - -"Walk away," was the answer. - -"And if I stopped you?" said the other. - -"Pitch you into the river, and see if you can swim it as well as I -did," rejoined the wayfarer. - -"The chances would be against you, my friend," rejoined his new -companion: "we are about the same height and size, I think; and not -very different in make. Suppose us equal then in strength. You have, -however, taken a walk to-night long enough to make you lose seven -miles of your count; you have swam that river in flood, and have lost -somewhat of your strength at every mile of the way, and every yard of -the water. Your strength and mine then, being at first equal -quantities, you must inquire, whether _a_ can be equal to _b_, minus -_c_ the walk, and _d_ the stream?" - -"Yes," answered the other, "for there is one thing you do not take -into account." - -"What is that?" asked the arithmetician. - -"Despair!" said his new-found friend; "for I tell you fairly, that if -you make me try to pitch you into the river, I do not care a straw -whether I go in with you or not." - -"That is a different affair," replied his companion drily; "despair is -an unknown quantity, and I have not time to arrive at it; so come -along." - -The other did not make any answer, but walked on with him, following a -path which in ordinary times communicated with that which he had -pursued on the other side of the stream, by a little wooden bridge, -which had been apparently washed away in the flood. Both the men -mused; and probably there was a good deal of similarity in the -questions which they were separately trying in their own minds. When -man first meets man, to each is presented a problem which he is bound -to solve as speedily as possible. Every man is a sphinx to his -neighbour, and propounds an enigma, which the other must answer, or -woe be to him. The riddle is, "What is within this casket of flesh -before my eyes?" and none can tell how important may be the solution. -We may be parted soon, whether the impression made by the one upon the -other be like the ripple of the wind upon the sea, or profound as the -channel which the torrent has worn in the rock; for-- - - - "--many meet, who never yet have met, - To part too soon, but never to forget." - - -But on the contrary, under the most adverse circumstances, without a -probability, against all likelihood, the companion led in by the hand -of chance, is often linked with us by fate through life--bound by the -iron chain of circumstances to the same column in the prison of -destiny as ourselves, destined to work at the same day-labour, and -accomplish, with our help, the same task. None but the dull, then, -ever see another human being for five minutes, without asking, "What -is the god of the temple? what are his powers?" - -There was not a word uttered by either, as they walked along. Yet each -knew that the other was not an ordinary man; but the person whom the -wayfarer had found upon the bank was much more curious in his -inquiries; for the other, though a quick and active-minded creature, -had many other thoughts in his bosom, stronger, more continuous than -those which the character of his companion had suggested, and which -the latter might cross and recross, like the thread upon the shuttle, -but did not interrupt. - -Now for the first time on his long way--he had walked thirty miles -that night--he sometimes looked around him. The faint gray of dawn -aided his eyes; but the objects were not cheerful. The scenery indeed -was fine. There were hill and dale; and river and lawn; wood and -heath; fern, hawthorn, birch, oak, beech, and solemn yew, with the -broad, sturdy chestnut, and the tall, ghostlike larch. There were jays -amongst the trees, just stirring and screaming in the first light; and -herds of deer, with the thick-necked bucks lifting their heads to -snuff the morn. Nevertheless, there was a something which spoke -neglect--a keeper's house untenanted, with broken windows--long -rasping arms of bramble stretching across the paths, some trees cut -down and rotting where they lay, a Greek temple in ruins, with marble -columns, which in their own fair clime would have remained pure as the -snows of Olympus, green with the dark mould of English humidity. Ducks -were dabbling among their favourite weed, where swans had swam in the -clear water; and an infinite number of rich exotic evergreens, -untrimmed and forgotten, were mingling their low branches with the -long, rank grass. There was no mistaking it. The place had been long -neglected. - -They passed quite across the park to a spot where the solid brick -wall had been carried out of the straight line, to enclose about -half-an-acre of ground beyond the exact limits. An open fence of -wood-work separated that half-acre from the actual park. The brick -wall run round without, forming three sides of a parallelogram. The -space within was neatly cultivated as a garden; and there were, -besides the long, straight rows of cabbages amongst the well-trained -trees, several beds of autumn flowers, still in bloom. They were as -stiff as all late flowers are; but still they were flowers, and it was -autumn; and they gave signs of care in the midst of neglect, of vigour -amidst decay, of life in death. - -There was a little wicket-gate in the centre of the wooden fence, with -a latch, which the wayfarer's companion raised, and led the way down a -gravel walk, to a house amongst the apple-trees at the other side, -resting against the wall of the park--a small house of two -stories--built of brown brick, and covered with white and yellow -lichens. Another moment and they were within the door, which was not -locked. The room they entered had a brick floor, clean swept and -reddened. Everything was in good order, and a wood fire, which was -already lighted, had fallen into that state where glowing eyes look -out from the white ashes, like those of a lion from a bush. The walls -had two rows of shelves hanging against them, and a great old dark oak -armory or press, carved with apostles and wild beasts. Balaam and his -ass, were there too; and the old prophet and the lion. The shelves -supported, the one, crockery, the other, old books with greasy backs. -Standing in front of the books, on the same shelf, were two or three -small cups of precious old china, and an ink-glass. Amongst the -crockery, were a bullet-mould, a powder-horn, and half-a-dozen floats. -There was a neat white curtain over the window, and every one of the -tiny panes was as clear as a diamond. - -The wayfarer looked around him with a faint smile, and then turned to -his host; and the two gazed upon each other in silence for a minute. -If there had been a struggle between them on the bank of the stream, -it would have been a very doubtful one; for never were two men better -matched. As they stood there, they looked like two well-chosen -carriage-horses, of an equal height within a quarter of an inch, both -broad in chest, strong in limb, thin in flank, both tanned with -exercise and exposure; both of that hardy rich brown complexion, where -the hair seems to curl from very vigour, and both in the prime of -strength and activity, though in point of years lay the principal -difference between them. The master of the house might, perhaps, be -three or four years older than his guest; but as the latter was at -least four or five and twenty, age gave the other no advantage. - -The wayfarer was dressed in a dark velveteen shooting-jacket, leathern -gaiters, and strong but well-made shoes; and under the coat was a -waistcoat, with long rows of little pockets, for holding gun charges. -He had what is called a foraging cap on his head, and a good deal of -whisker and hair. His nose was straight, his eyes hazel, his teeth -fine, and his chin rounded and somewhat prominent. The other was -dressed in a fustian coat, with large pockets, thick hobnailed shoes, -and leathern gaiters, with a straw hat upon his head, and corduroy -breeches on his thighs. His features were good, and, like his guest, -he had a straight nose and a rounded chin, with eyebrows exactly like -the other's; but the eyes, instead of being hazel, were of a dark -gray, and his beard and whiskers were closely shaved, and hair cut -short. There were several points of difference between them, but more -of similarity; and the similarity depended upon feature, form, and -complexion, the difference more upon adventitious circumstances. - -"You are my double," said the master of the house, after they had -gazed at each other for some time, both feeling that there was a -strong resemblance; "and as such you have as good a right to wear my -clothes as myself. They are not as good as yours; but they are dry, -which makes them better for the time." - -He opened the old armory, which was full of guns and fishing rods, and -from one of two drawers at the bottom took out a very little used suit -of country-made clothes. - -"There," he said, "put those on; and we will afterwards go and see if -we can find your bundle at the wear. Here, come into the back room, -and I will give you a clean shirt and stockings. I never let cotton -and wool lie together; for they might quarrel, being near akin." - -The other followed, and after having fulfilled his promise as to the -shirt and the stockings, the master of the house left him, and -returned to blow the fire into a blaze. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -Man wonders why it happens so often that in our first manhood -disappointments, bitter as undeserved, fall upon us--why we are -crossed in honourable love--thwarted in noble ambition--frustrated in -generous endeavour--distracted in a just course--denied our reasonable -expectations. Some reply, It is a part of the original curse, and that -we must go on struggling and grumbling. Others--better and wiser men, -and far more religious--find out that it is to wean us from earthly -affections which, when the world is in its spring loveliness, are apt -to take too great a hold upon us. Both may be right; yet there may be -something of training in it too. We have things to accomplish in our -manhood, a course to be run, a contest to fight out; and at that time -of youth we are colts which must be bitted and bridled, put at the -longe, have the rollers between our jaws; and many a sore mouth and -galled withers must be endured before we are fit for the hard rider, -Fate, to get upon our back, and gallop us to the end of our career. -Does not that filly sporting in the field think it very hard that she -may not go on cantering up and down, with her head held high, and her -nostrils snorting fire, or that she may not go on cropping buttercups -and sweet grass--all very reasonable desires for a filly--but must -come and be driven round and round a ring, with a long whip at her -hocks, and a drunken horse-breaker in the middle, holding her from her -joyous freedom by a long cord? Truly, she may well think it a hard -case; but she was not made for her own service--nor was man. - -There is something of the same feeling in the breast of that young -wayfarer as he sits there by the fire, after having changed his -clothes. That knitted brow and curling lip show that he thinks he has -been hardly used by fortune; and yet there is a thoughtful look about -his eyes which may indicate a search for, and a discovery of, the ends -and objects of disappointment. The power of thought is a wonderful -thing. See how it steals over him, smoothing the wrinkle out of the -brow, relaxing the bitter turn of the lip. He is forming plans--or -building castles--reawakening hope--recovering faith and trust. -Something is working in his mind for peace! - -"You have made me very comfortable," he said, abruptly, while the -other lifted a small tin kettle from the fire, where it had been -hissing and spluttering for a minute or two; "and I am now ready to go -out and seek my bundle at the wear. My wet things can dry here till I -come back." - -"We will have a cup of tea first," said his entertainer, "the girl -will bring the milk in a minute; and, though I can do without most -luxuries, I cannot do without tea. It is the only thing that goes into -the mouth which may be considered a luxury of the mind. It is -wonderful how it clears a man's head, and gives him a command over his -intellect. If I want to solve a problem, or translate a stiff passage, -I must have my cup of tea. The Chinese must be a wise people to grow -such a herb." - -The wayfarer smiled. "You are a strange sort of person," he said; -"and, I suppose, are of a better rank and station than your appearance -betokens." - -"I am the son of the blacksmith's daughter," replied the man, simply; -"I can shoe a horse or forge a bar with any man in the country. That I -learned from my grandfather. I can shoot a buck or bring down a snipe -nineteen times out of twenty. That I learned from the head keeper. I -know as much of gardening and botany as the old gardener did, who is -now himself a compost, poor man; and I know somewhat more of -mathematics, and Latin, and Greek, than the master of the -grammar-school, who taught me; but yet I am nothing but the son of the -blacksmith's daughter; and I wish to be nothing more." - -"But what is your profession or trade?" asked his guest, with apparent -interest. - -"Profession, I have none," was the man's answer, pouring some water -into the tea-pot. "They wished to make a parson of me, I believe; but -my wishes did not go with theirs. I liked hammering iron, or shooting -deer, or planting flowers and trees a great deal better. I was neither -fond of preaching nor being preached to; and, therefore, I studied -when I liked, wandered where I liked, read, shot, planted, worked at -the forge when I liked. I do believe, from all that I have seen in the -world, there has never been a man on earth who did as much what he -liked as I have done--except Adam, who had only one thing forbidden -him, and did that too. Now, however, I suppose the change is to -come--for a change always comes sooner or later in every man's fate. -One might as well expect to see four and twenty hours of sunshine as a -life without a change--and I suppose I must buckle to some business; -for, though I eat little, and drink little, and sleep little, yet that -little must be had." - -"But why should you not go on as you have hitherto done?" inquired the -other. "Has anything happened to deprive you of your means?" - - -"Yes;" answered his companion, "I had fifty-two pounds allowed me -a-year, just a pound a-week, and this little house and garden; and -leave to shoot rabbits, ducks, and wild fowl of all kinds, except -pheasants, one buck in the year, to keep my hand in, and the right to -roam about the park at all times and seasons without question. I made -my own terms, and got them. But he who allowed all this is dead, and -the people tell me it will not be binding upon his heir. Well, what -matters it? I can work; and as soon as I heard how things were, I -determined I would first try a gardener's life, as Mr. Tracy, over at -Northferry, wants one. I never let myself be cast down by anything; -and when you talked about despair, an hour ago, I thought, What a fool -you must be." - -"I believe you are right," answered his guest, "your philosophy is far -the best; but somehow I think you will not be obliged to take the -gardener's place unless you like it. But there is some one knocking in -the next room. I thought you were alone in the house. Are you -married?" - -"Poo!" cried the other, "what should I do with a wife? Thank God, -there is no female thing about the place but my setter bitch. That is -the girl with the milk, knocking at the door in the park wall." And he -walked out into the passage to receive what she had brought. - -While he was gone the other sat quite still by the fire, with his eyes -fixed steadily upon it. He saw not a spark, however. His -contemplations were very deep; and as the other came back again, with -the milk in his hand, he murmured, "If they would take him, why not -another?" - -"Well, you were saying just now," continued his companion, carrying on -the conversation, "that you thought I should not be obliged to take -the gardener's place. I should like to hear what you can know about -it." - -"Tell me your name," said the visitor, "and I will let you hear." - -"You would not tell me yours, when I asked it," said the other, with a -smile. "But it does not matter. My name is William Lockwood. Now, what -do you say to that?" - -"That you have no occasion to take the gardener's place," replied his -guest. "Sir Harry Winslow is dead, as you say; but yesterday morning, -in order to see what directions he had given for his funeral, the will -was opened, and read before the whole family, servants, and secretary, -and all. I was there, and heard it, and he did you full justice, left -you the annuity and all you have mentioned, and added a legacy of five -hundred pounds." - -"And he left you nothing," said the other, fixing his eyes keenly upon -him, "though you thought you had a right to expect it." - -"He left me dependent upon another," replied the young man, "which I -will not be," and he bent down his head and thought bitterly. - -"That was hard! That was very hard!" said the other; "he was at times -a hard man.--It often happens so. Those who have in their youth been -what is called gay men, turn out in their old age as hard as the -nether millstone. Whatever is in a man's heart remains there for ever, -unless that heart be changed by the grace of God. Selfishness, which -leads to one kind of vices in youth, leads to another kind in old age. -The libertine turns the miser, that is all." - -"But he was not a miser," cried the other, sharply, "that must not be -said of him; and should not by you, at least, his son." - -"Hush!" said the master of the house, sternly, "I do not own him for -my father; and I told him so. For the wrong he did my mother, and -because of some letters of his which she held, and I hold, he did what -he has done for her son. But do not you suppose, young man, that I -ever basely truckled to him who injured her. As a child I took the -education that was given me; but when I was older and knew more, I -steadily refused to acknowledge him for my father, or to obey his -behests in any way. It is this that has made me what I am. I would not -go to a college as his bastard, and become a priest at his will. I -received the small atonement that he offered, as atonement, but as -giving no right over me; and I added other things, as demands, to that -which he vouchsafed, in order to show that it was a contract I entered -into, not a duty I acknowledged. Perhaps he was not a miser, as you -say; but yet look at this place, and see what it has become within the -last ten years. He has grudged every penny spent upon it since he last -lived here himself, and unless it is that my mother's spirit, either -visibly or invisibly, wandered round the place, and made it hateful to -him for the wrong he had done her, what but the miser could make him -discharge servants who had long dwelt here, and deny the means of -keeping up in decent state a place that gave him name, and had -descended to him from many ancestors? Now, what has he done with you -yourself, according to your own admission. You stand in the same -relation to him that I do--all the world knows it--your mother was his -wife's maid--he educated you, made you his secretary, employed your -talents, made you the companion of his amusements, took you out to -shoot and hunt, to plays and operas, put you nearly on a level with -his lawful sons, and then left you a dependant--I suppose, upon their -bounty. You have done well to cast such pitiful slavery from you. I -acknowledge you as a brother, which, perhaps, they will not; and the -five hundred pounds he has left to me is yours if you will take it." - -The young man grasped his hand warmly, but said, "No, no--that can -never be. I have hands and arms strong enough to labour for myself, -and I will do so. I cannot take what is yours. I have no title to -it--I have no claim to it." - -"I want it not," replied Lockwood. "I need nought but what I have. I -would rather not take ought but what I bargained for." - -"At all events I cannot accept it," was the young man's answer; "he -left it not to me, but to you, and I will have none of it. Much that -you have told me I had never heard before; I was not aware of his -having had a son by Lady Winslow's maid, nor that his secretary was -that son." - -"Men ever know less of their own history than the world knows," said -his companion; "but the thing is notorious. No one ever doubted who -you were; so let us children without marriage, share what he has left -to such, and let the lawful children take the rest amongst them." - -"I cannot do that," said the young man; and leaning his head upon his -hand, he added, after a few moments' thought, "We will talk of other -things, my good brother--since such you are--I must meditate over all -this; and when I have done so, I will ask your help perhaps to carry -out my future plans of life. I can work as well as you, and am willing -to do so, though it has fallen upon me, who did not expect it, instead -of upon you, who did." - -"My help you shall have as far as it will go," rejoined Lockwood, "but -that is not very far. It is true people like me well enough here, -because I never wronged any one of a penny, and give the old women -rabbits to make broth when they are puling; and they like me, too, -because I am one of themselves, and never pretend to be ought else, -though my father was a rich man, and I am richer than most of them; -but, poor things, the only matter I have to be proud of is, that I am -a plebeian. Not that I am ashamed of my dear mother; for if a man will -take advantage of a woman's weakness, under solemn pledge to marry -her, and then break that pledge, let the shame rise on him, not her." - -"Assuredly!" replied his companion, with a ready warmth which would -have fully confirmed in the mind of Lockwood, had any confirmation -been necessary, the supposition of his guest's illegitimate birth; but -the moment after a deepened tint appeared in his cheek, and he said -abruptly, "But let us talk of other things, Lockwood. What is the -state of the people about here? I hope they have not been as much -neglected as the place." - -"Why, you should know all about it, Mr. Faber," said Lockwood, "for -you used to write all the letters to the steward, he told me. However, -they are not altogether so badly off as they might be. The farmer has -his land at a fair rent enough, and so he can afford to give fair -wages to his labourers. The old man was not hard in that. He took what -was but just, for that which was his own, and the men have prospered -under it; but he did nothing else for the neighbourhood. Some of the -landlords round are different, get as much as they can wring from -their tenants--force them to starve their labourers; and then spend a -part of the money in parish schools and new churches. I have known -many a one who has made every one under him labour like galley-slaves -for mere existence, by reason of his exactions, cried up as a most -liberal gentleman, because he whitewashed the cottages, and built a -school-house. The whitewash and the school-house together did not cost -one-tenth of what he took too much for his land; and yet, to hear all -the gentry speak of him, you would have thought he was an angel of a -landlord. Men are queer things, Mr. Faber." - -"Do not call me Mr. Faber, Lockwood," said the other with a smile; -"call me simply Chandos; that is better between brothers." - -"Ah, that is your Christian name, then," said his stout kinsman; "'C. -Faber,' I remember the letter I saw was signed; but I thought the name -had been Charles. Take another cup of tea, Chandos: it is wrung from -no man's hard earnings, and will do you good." - -"After all," said Chandos, resuming the conversation at a previous -point, "the man who does not exact too much is by far less culpable, -though he do not do all the good to his people that he can, than he -who, with a covetous grasp, wrings the last shilling from his -property, and spends sixpence of it in instructing the peasantry, -whitewashing their houses, or pampering his own vanity. The one is -only guilty of doing less than he might, the other of taking more than -he ought." - -"I am not very sure," answered his companion, musing; "I have thought -over these matters a good deal, and I am not fond of splitting hairs -about right and wrong. If a man does not do what he ought, he does -what he ought not. 'Sins of omission,' as the parson calls them, are, -to my mind, sins of commission, as soon as ever a man knows what he -ought to do, and does not do it. I have a notion, Chandos, all these -fine differences are only ways by which people cheat themselves to -avoid self-reproach; and, I believe, what foolish people call the -higher classes, are taught to do so more than any others by reading -the classics; for a more wicked sort of worthless scoundrels than -those old Greeks and Romans never was. The very best of them contrived -to mix up so much bad with their best doings, that young lads at -school learn not to know right from wrong, and to think things -exceedingly fine that were very dirty." - -"But there were some truly good and great men amongst them," replied -Chandos, whiled away for a moment from himself by his companion's -conversation: "they might be too stern and severe, perhaps, in their -adherence to right; but still excess of virtue is not likely to lead -others wrong who make it their example." - -"I'll give you the advantage of the best of them," said Lockwood, "and -be bound to pick a hole in any of their coats. We all know about -Socrates, a nasty old he-goat, and won't talk of him. But take -Lycurgus for an example, I mean, the Spartan. Now what he did to his -countrymen would have been nothing better than swindling, if it had -been about money instead of laws. He took an oath from them to do -certain things till he came back from Delphi; and that certainly -implied that it was his intention to come back. But instead of that, -he went away from Delphi to Crete, for the express purpose of cheating -the Spartans; had his old bones cast into the sea, that they might not -play him as good a trick as he had played them; and left his laws to -Sparta, and his name to immortality. But if I were to say to any man, -'Lend me five pounds till I come back from London,' and instead of -going back, were to run away to Paris, just to avoid my creditor, what -would be said of me? Now because the laws of Lycurgus were good, -people think that his imposition was glorious; and thus they learn -that Jesuitical maxim of the end justifying the means." - -"I agree with you so far," said Chandos, gravely, "that there was a -great deal of false philosophy, if I may use the term, amongst the -ancients: and I am thoroughly convinced that the only true philosophy -that ever was propounded to man is to be found in the Bible." - -"Archimedes was the greatest man amongst them," rejoined Lockwood, -following the course of his own thoughts, a habit of which he was very -fond; "and in the study of his life and character, no great harm could -be done to any one. But at our schools and colleges, what between -Roman emperors, Greek magistrates, and gods and goddesses, we are -brought all at once in our early youth into the midst of a crowd of -rogues, prostitutes, and libertines, only fit for the back streets of -a great town." - -Unwittingly, Chandos had been led from many a grave memory and painful -consideration to topics which had often engaged his youthful mind; and -he replied, with a gay laugh, which showed how naturally light and -cheerful was the spirit when free from the oppressive weight of -circumstances: "As to the gods and goddesses, I agree with you -entirely. There was not a lady amongst them who, in our times, would -not have figured in the Arches Court; and as to the men, Apollo was -the most gentlemanlike person of the whole, and yet he would have been -transported for rape or hanged for felony long ago." - -In such easy conversation they went on for half an hour more. It is no -figure, but a certainty, that imagination has a charm--I mean, a power -unaccountable, and almost magical, of wrapping the mind in a golden -mist of its own, which hides or softens all the hard features of the -scene around. But often, as with the fabled spells of the necromancer, -the slightest thing--a word, a tone, a look--will waft away the -pleasant veil, and restore the heart in a moment to the cold and black -reality. Such was the case with Chandos. Something apparently -indifferent threw him back into deep thought; and after a long pause, -he started up, saying, "This is very strange, to be sitting here -beside you, Lockwood, within three days! But come, let us seek the -bundle I have lost. The clouds are clearing away. There is a gleam of -sunshine. When will the like fall upon my fate?" - -"Before long, if you are strong-hearted," answered the other, rising -also. "One half of every man's fate is his own making; the other half -is made for him. Fortune's store is like one of those shops at a -country fair, where there are a number of articles of different value, -and of different use, each at the price of sixpence. Your sixpence you -must pay; but then you have your choice, if you choose but wisely." - -"I am not sure of the choice," said Chandos with a sigh; "but I will -choose soon, at all events:" and he walked towards the door. - -"Stay a minute," cried Lockwood; "I will take my gun. We may find some -teal by the wear; and you will want dinner." - -As they walked along, the younger of the two remained in silent -thought. He was not full of the energetic inspiration of hope; and the -flame of expectation had waned dim and low. Doubtless he had dreamed -bright dreams in former times--doubtless he had looked at life through -youth's magnifying-glass--doubtless his anticipations had been -exuberant of the pleasant things of the future. But there seemed a -fiat gone out against him,--that he was not to enjoy even that which -had seemed within grasp. He looked over the future that he had fancied -his own but a few days before, and felt that, like the prophet on "the -top of Pisgah, which is over against Jericho," though there was a fair -land in sight, his feet would never tread it. He felt that he had been -proud, that he was proud; and he resolved to humble himself. But there -was a bitterness in his humility which produced a wayward pettishness -in all the plans which floated, like wreaths of smoke, before his -mind. They were many, many, like the troops of strange forms which -sometimes sweep--as it were, interminably--before the eyes in dreams. -Varying were they too, shifting and changing in hue, and form, and -position, like the streamers of the northern meteor lights. Now he -would forth into the great and busy world, and cull honour and -distinction with a fiery energy, with the genius he knew himself to -possess, with the learning he was conscious he had acquired, with the -courage he felt in heart. He would seek the camp, or the court, or the -bar, or the pulpit. He would make himself independent, he would make -himself great. Then again he said, No; he would cast off all the ties -which had hitherto bound him; the ties of blood, of station, of -society. He would take his position at the lowest grade, at the very -bottom of the ladder. He would try a state entirely new, a condition -different from all he had yet tried, and see what would come of it. He -could change, if he liked. His mind need not rust in humble life; his -abilities would not get mouldy; his small means would accumulate: He -would even, he thought, from time to time vary the scene: place humble -life and a higher condition side by side, upon alternate days, and -judge between them. As first disappointment is always whimsical, it -was upon the last scheme that his thoughts most pleasantly rested; and -with it he busied himself as, crossing the further part of the park, -they approached the river. The point they made for was lower down than -where he had swum across; but he paid little attention to anything; -and the first thing that roused him was the sudden rising of a plump -of teal from the rushes. They whirled round in a dense cloud. -Lockwood's gun was up in a moment, fired, and four birds came down -together. Then Chandos gazed at the rushing water, red and foaming, -and he thought it marvellous that he had ever crossed it alive. -"Perhaps it would have been better," he said bitterly to himself, "if -I had remained in its fell clasp." He spoke not a word aloud; but -Lockwood answered as if he could see the thoughts written. - -"Poo! nonsense!" he said; "there is always something to live for in -life. And there lies your bundle, drifted ashore at the other corner -of the wear. You pick up the teal, and get that one out of the water, -and I will go and fetch it." - -"How?" said Chandos. But the other made no reply, and, quietly -mounting the top of the wear, began to walk along its slippery and -narrow path towards the other side of the river. The younger man -watched him for a moment with anxiety; but he saw that Lockwood trod -the six-inch rail like a rope-dancer, and he turned himself to gather -up the dead birds. He had got two, and was reaching over the river to -pull out a third, which had fallen into the stream, with his head bent -down, when a light touch on the shoulder made him look up. - -"Why won't you speak to one this morning, Mr. Lockwood?" said a -middle-aged man in a keeper's dress. "I thought it was your gun, but I -came down to see notwithstanding; for though Sir Harry is dead, that's -no reason the game should be poached." - -The man looked down on his face while he spoke, and Chandos then -became aware how great was the likeness between him and his companion. - -"My name is not Lockwood," he said, rising up to his full height. The -man drew a little back in surprise, saying, "Ay, I see you are not, -now; but you are devilish like him. Then, my young gentleman, what are -you doing shooting here?" - -"It was Lockwood who fired," answered Chandos, gravely, with a certain -degree of haughtiness in his manner and tone. "He is over there, -seeking a bundle which I let fall into the water. There is his head -amongst the weeds--don't you see?" - -A friendly shout from the person of whom he spoke called the keeper's -eyes in the right direction; and in a minute or two more, Lockwood, -crossing back again over the wear, stood by them with the bundle in -his hand. - -"Here it is, Mr. Faber," he said; and instantly a gleam of -intelligence passed over the keeper's face. - -"Well, I thought you were very like," he said; "no offence to the -gentleman I hope;" (for Chandos had coloured a good deal, either at his -words, or Lockwood's;) "only he has got whiskers and you havn't, -Lockwood. I was going down to your place this morning, to ask you if -you would come up and take a bit of dinner with me and my old woman at -the abbey; but as the gentleman is with you, I suppose I must not make -so bold as to ask him too." - -"I will come with all my heart," answered Chandos at once; "only you -must take me in these clothes, for all the rest are wet." - -Lockwood and the keeper smiled; and the former answered, "We don't -stand upon such matters in our station, Sir! Clean hands and a good -appetite are all that we need at our table. Well, Garbett, you had -better give your dame the birds, to make the dinner bigger; and we -will be with you at one, or before, for I dare say Mr. Faber has never -seen the abbey." - -"Yes I have, often," answered Chandos, abstractedly; "but it was long -ago." - -"Well I never knew that," replied Lockwood, with a puzzled look: but, -bidding the keeper good bye, and still carrying the bundle, he walked -back with his companion towards his house, both keeping silence. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - -"Here, you had better dry the things in the bundle," said Lockwood, -"for they are as wet as a sponge--but that is a very illogical figure; -for though a sponge may be wetted, yet a sponge need not always be -wet." - -Chandos took the bundle and went with it into the neighbouring room, -on which the little sunshine that autumn had left was shining. He -opened it, displayed the few articles it contained--half-a-dozen -shirts, a suit of fashionable, well-cut clothes, with some combs and -brushes, a small inkstand, and a roller dressing-case, richly mounted -with silver. They were all as wet as water could make them; and he -proceeded to unfold the various articles of apparel, placing them one -by one over the backs of the wooden chairs. His eye was resting -steadily upon one of the shirts, when Lockwood came in, with a face -grave even to sternness, and an open letter in his hand, apparently -just received. - -"You have deceived me," were the first words he uttered; and as he did -so his eye rested unwinking on his young companion. - -"How so, Lockwood?" asked Chandos, without the slightest emotion. "If -any one tells you in that letter that you are not named in the will in -the manner I stated, he is deceiving you, not I." - -"Not about that--not about that at all," answered Lockwood, "that is -all true enough; but--." He paused, and laid his finger upon a mark in -the wet linen, adding, "Look there!" - -"My dear Lockwood," said Chandos, laying his hand familiarly upon his -arm, "I did not deceive you--you deceived yourself; but I did not -intend long to leave you in any mistake. I only wished my own plans to -be first arranged--I wished to give myself time to think, and be -prepared to act, before I spoke of matters that concerned me only, and -not you at all." - -"It was hardly fair, Sir," answered Lockwood, not yet satisfied. "You -left me to say things that might offend you; and though I am a humble -man, yet we have what is called politeness of our own kind amongst us, -as well as amongst others; and we do not like to say what may be -offensive except upon necessary occasions." - -"Could I have taken offence under such circumstances," replied -Chandos, "I should have been a fool, deserving to suffer by his folly. -But you must lay aside your anger, my good friend; first, because it -is uncalled for; secondly, because I have enough to grieve me; and -thirdly, because I am going to ask your hearty concurrence and -assistance in plans which are now formed to meet very painful -circumstances." - -"Painful indeed!" said Lockwood, with much feeling. - -"What has that letter told you?" asked his companion. - -"All," replied the other; "everything. I now know why you have acted -as you have. The steward was always a good friend of mine, and of my -poor mother's; and he has told me all that happened. I do not wonder -at what you have done; I shall not wonder at anything you may do." - -"All, he cannot have told you," answered Chandos; "for no one knows -all but myself and one other, who, I am sure, for his own sake, would -not tell it; nor would I. However, what is necessary to be said I can -tell you as we go up to the abbey. I would fain walk over the old -place from one end to the other; and therefore we will set out as soon -as you like. You shall hear my plans and purposes; you shall give me -help, if you can and will; and, at all events, I am quite sure you -will keep my secret." - -"No fear of my not doing that. Sir," answered Lockwood, warmly; "and -help you I will, as far as I can, if you will only tell me how. That -is all that is wanted; for though I and mine have not been well -treated, you have been treated worse, I think." - -"Do not call me 'Sir,' Lockwood," replied his young companion, -grasping his hand warmly; "call me Chandos; and say not a word against -those who are gone, if you love me. There is something so sacred in -death, that, though it may be a weakness not to scan the actions of -the dead as we would do those of the living, yet it is a weakness I -could not part with. There is something beyond--above reason in man's -nature--something that distinguishes him more from the brute, raises -him far higher above it. It is that feeling which is called by the -Word of God, _charity_; (very different from that to which we men give -the name;) and if we are forbidden to censure our living enemies, how -much more our dead friends! In this matter there has been some -mistake; the will is dated ten years ago, when all the circumstances -were very different, when no unfortunate dissensions had arisen, when -I was myself a mere stripling. So let that pass; and now let us go. As -I walk along I will tell you my plans. Do not attempt to dissuade or -advise me; for my resolution is taken, and all I require is help." - -"I wish to Heaven you would have something more," rejoined Lockwood, -earnestly. - -"What is that?" inquired Chandos. - -"Why, the five hundred pounds," answered the other. "I can make no use -of it, indeed. I have no need of it. I am like a tree that has grown -into a certain shape, and can take no other. I have enough, Sir, for -all my wants and wishes. That is what few men can say, I know; but I -can from my heart; and when I get the money I shall not know what to -do with it. I shall only be put out of my way, and, perhaps, be -tempted to play the fool." - -"No, no," answered his guest, "I neither can nor will take that which -was justly destined for you. Besides, I do not need it, I am not so -destitute as you suppose. Something--a pittance indeed, but still -something--was secured to me long ago, and it no one can take from me. -But, come; as we walk along, we will talk more." - -And they did talk as they walked along, earnestly, eagerly, and took -more than one turn out of the way because their conversation was not -done. At length, however, they directed their course in a straight -line across the park, and in a few minutes Winslow Abbey stood before -them. Many of my readers who know the part of the country in which I -live must have seen it, some few perhaps wandered all over it; but for -those who have not, I must describe it as it appeared before the eyes -of Lockwood and his companion. - -Winslow Abbey was one of the few buildings of Richard the Third's -reign. It was not of the most florid style of even that time, and much -less so than that of Richard's successor; but still there was -wonderful lightness and grace in the architecture. Some parts of the -building, indeed, were older and heavier than the rest, but rich and -beautiful notwithstanding. These were principally to be found in the -abbey church, which was quite in ruins, mantled with green ivy, and -fringed with many a self-sown ash. Growing in the midst of the nave, -and rising far above, where the roof had once been, was a group of -dark pines, waving their tops in the wind like the plumes upon a -hearse. Who had planted them no one knew; but the record might well -have passed by, for their size bespoke the passing of a century at -least. There, ruin had fully done his work, apparently without one -effort from man's hand to stay his relentless rage; but such was not -the case with the rest of the building. Old and somewhat decayed it -certainly was; but traces were evident, over every part, of efforts -made, not many years before, to prevent the progress of dilapidation. -In the fine delicate mullions, in the groups of engaged columns, in -the corbels and buttresses, in the mouldings of the arches, were seen -portions of stone, which the hand of time had not yet blackened; and -here and there, in the ornamental part, might be traced the labours of -a ruder and less skilful chisel than that which had sculptured the -original roses, and monsters, and cherubims' heads, scattered over the -whole. The ivy, too, which, it would seem, had at one time grown so -luxuriantly as to be detrimental, had been carefully removed in many -places, and trimmed and reduced to more decorative proportions in -others. Where the thin filaments of the plant had sucked out the -mortar, with the true worldly wisdom which destroys what it rests on -to support itself, fresh cement had been applied; and though some -years had evidently passed since these repairs had been made, the -edifice was still sound and weather tight. - -Projecting in the centre was a large pile, which had probably been the -Abbot's lodging, richly decorated with mitre, and key, and insignia of -clerical authority; for the Abbot of Winslow had been a great man in -his day, and had sat in Parliament amongst the peers of the realm. On -either side were large irregular wings, with here and there a mass -thrown forward nearly on the line of the great corps de logis, and -more richly ornamented than the parts between; but all, as I have -said, beautifully irregular, for one of the great excellencies of that -style of building is the harmonious variety of the forms. From either -angle of the façade ran back long rows of lower buildings, surrounding -a court with cloisters, external and internal; and on both sides the -deep beech woods came boldly forward, offering, in their brown and -yellow tints, a fine contrast to the cold gray stone and the green -ivy. All that appeared on the mere outside of the building, was of -centuries long gone by, or, at least, appeared so to be. Even the -terrace in front, raised by a step or two above the surrounding -park.--though probably abbots and monks had passed away ere it was -levelled--had been made to harmonize with the Abbey by a screen of -light stone-work in the same style. But through the small-paned -windows of the building, the notions of modern times peeped out in -efforts for that comfort which we so much prize. Shutters of dark oak -were seen closed along the front, except in one room, where three -windows were open, and rich damask curtains of deep crimson flapped in -the November wind. - -Chandos halted on the terrace, and gazed round. How many sensations -crowd on us when we first see again in manhood the places we have -known and loved in youth! But whatever were those in the young man's -bosom, they vented themselves in but one expression. "Pull it down!" -he exclaimed, in a tone at once melancholy and indignant. "Pull it -down!" - -"Who, in the name of folly and wickedness, would ever think of such a -thing?" cried Lockwood. - -"It has been spoken about, nevertheless," answered Chandos; "and he, -who had the bad taste to propose it, has now the full power to do it. -But let us go in: the house seems well enough; but the park is in a -sad neglected state." - -"How can it be otherwise?" was Lockwood's answer, as he led the way -across the terrace towards one of the doors near the eastern angle of -the building. "There is but one keeper and one labourer left. They do -all they can, poor people; but it would take twenty hands to keep this -large place in order. But the house is better, as you say; and the -reason of that is, that, when Sir Harry was here last, just about five -years ago, though he only stayed one day, he saw with his own eyes -that everything was going to ruin. He therefore ordered it to be put -in proper repair. But the park he took no notice of; and it has gone -to rack and ruin ever since." - -As he spoke, he pushed back a small door, plated with iron, and -studded with large nails, hardly wide enough for two persons to pass -at a time and pointed at the top, to fit the low arch of the -stone-work. A narrow passage, guiltless of paint or whitewash, led to -what had been the abbot's kitchen, in times long gone. It formed now -the sitting-room of the good keeper and his wife, who had been put in -to take care of the house. In honour, however, of an expected guest, -the cloth, which was already laid, although it wanted near an hour of -one, was spread in the housekeeper's room adjoining. - -The good dame, who with a little girl fifteen or sixteen years of age, -her niece, was busied in hospitable cares, viz., in the spitting of -the already plucked teal, made a courtesy to Chandos on being caught -in the fact, which had nearly run the poor bird in her hands through -the body in a sense and direction totally different from that which -she intended. But Chandos soon relieved her from any little temporary -embarrassment, by saying, that he would walk through the house with -Lockwood, till dinner was ready. - -A flight of steps led them up to paved galleries and halls, many in -number, confused in arrangement, and not altogether convenient, except -for the purposes for which they were originally destined. Chandos -seemed to need no guide, however, to the labyrinth; and it must be -observed, that the only use of Lockwood, as his companion, seemed to -be to exchange an occasional sentence with him, and to open the -window-shutters of the different rooms, to admit the free air and -light. - -"Let us go this way, Lockwood," said his younger companion; "I wish to -see the library first; and the best way will be through the glazed -cloister, round the inner court." - -"How well you remember it!" said Lockwood. "But I fear you will find -the library in bad order; for the people left in the place do not know -much about books." - -Nevertheless, Chandos hurried on, and entered a long, broad, -stone-paved passage, which had been ingeniously fitted up, so as to -defend those who passed along from the wind and weather. This gallery, -or cloister, ran along three of the internal sides of the building, -only interrupted at one point by a large hall-door, through which -carriages could pass from the terrace to the inner court; and, -threading it quickly, Chandos and his companion reached a door at the -opposite angle, which, however, was not to be opened easily. The key -Lockwood had not got; but, pushing back a lesser door to the left, -which was unlocked, they found their way through a small, elegantly -fitted-up study to another door of the library, which did not prove so -stubborn. In this little study, or reading-room, were six old oak -chairs, curiously carved, and covered with rich crimson velvet; a -sofa, evidently modern, but worked by a skilful, and, doubtless, -expensive upholsterer, so as to harmonize with the other furniture; a -writing-table, of old oak, with bronze inkstands, lamps, penholders, -and some little ornaments of the same metal; and two small bookcases, -with glazed doors, which covered and discovered the backs of a number -of splendidly-bound books. - -"This is all mine, Lockwood," said Chandos, gazing round with some -pleasure. "It is left to me so distinctly, that there can be no cavil -about it, or there would be a cavil, depend upon it. The words -are:--'The library, with all the furniture, books, pictures, busts, -and other articles of every kind whatsoever in the room so called; and -also everything contained in the small writing-room adjoining, at the -time of the testator's death.'" - -"I'll make an inventory of them," said Lockwood, with a cheerful air. -"The library, too? Why, that's a fortune in itself." - -His younger companion mused for several moments, with his hand on the -library-door. "That is true," he said; "I never thought of that. And -yet it were a painful fortune, too, to turn to any account; for it -would go hard with me, ere I sold the old books, over which I have -pored so often. However, Lockwood, take you an inventory, as you say: -and in the mean time, I will consider how I am to dispose of all these -things. I shall never have a house big enough to put those bookcases -in." - -"You can't tell," answered Lockwood. "What you are going to try first, -you will soon get tired of; and then you will take some other course, -and may raise yourself to be a great man, yet. You have had a good -education, been to Eton, and college, and all that; and so you can do -anything you please." - -Chandos shook his head sadly, and replied: "The road to high fortune, -my good friend, is not so easily travelled now as once it was. So many -are driving along it, that there is no room for one to pass the -other." - -"There's another reason besides that," answered Lockwood, "why we see -so few mount high now-a-days. It's all like bread and butter at a -school; there's but a certain portion of butter for the whole; and if -the number of mouths be increased, it must be spread thinner. However, -as I have said, you can do what you like; for you are young, -determined enough for anything, and have a good education, so you may -be a great man, if you like." - -"You have had a good education too, Lockwood," replied the other. - -"Ay, but not so good as yours," said his companion. "Mine has been -picked up anyhow; and a man never makes much of that. Besides, you -have always been accustomed to keep company with gentlefolks; and I am -a boor. Education means something else than cramming a man's head with -Greek and Latin, or mathematics either; and, moreover, I don't want to -be a great man, if I could. To me it would be as disagreeable, as you -will find being a little one." - -"Well, well, we have settled that question," said Chandos; "and for -the future God will provide." - -He then walked up to one of the large bookcases, carved like the -screen of an old church, took down a volume so covered with dust that -the top looked as if it were bearing a crop of wool, opened it, and -read a few lines mechanically. Lockwood stood near, with his arms -folded on his broad chest, gazing at him with a thoughtful look, then, -tapping him lightly on the arm, he said, "You have forgotten one -thing: you will have to receive all these fine things some day soon; -how will that square with all your fine plans?" - -Chandos took a moment or two to reply; for it would seem, he had not -indeed considered the subject. "I will tell you, Lockwood," he said; -"I will give you an order to receive them in my name. I shall be near -at hand, to do anything more that may be necessary." - -"But what am I to do with them?" asked Lockwood, frightened at the -idea of such folio volumes, and awful bookcases. "But I will tell you -what I can do," he added, a moment afterwards. "There's the young -parson over at Northferry, he's a good young man and kind, I have -always heard, though I don't know him, and has a large house not yet -half furnished. He'll give them place, I'm sure. We can talk of that -afterwards. But it must be the good folks' dinner hour, by this time; -and keepers have huge appetites." - -"Well, let us go back," said Chandos, with a sigh. "But we can walk -through the rooms. It will not take us longer." - -"The base and the perpendicular are always in their sum more than the -hypotenuse," replied Lockwood, drily. "But doubtless they are not so -ravenous as to grudge a few minutes to look at places you have not -seen for so long, and may never see again.--Odd's life, pull the place -down! They must be mad!" - -Chandos made no answer, but walked on, passing from room to room, -along the wide front of the building. He gazed around him as he went -with a slow pace, but only twice he stopped. Once it was to look at a -picture; that of a lady in a riding habit. It was an early portrait by -Sir Thomas Lawrence, with great breadth and power, and some careless -drawing and want of finish, in subsidiary parts. But the face was full -of life. The liquid eyes, with the clear light streaming through the -cornea, and illuminating the iris, seemed gazing into your heart. The -lips spoke to you; but there was a sadness in the tones, which poured -melancholy into the gazer. - -"Ay, she had an unhappy life of it, poor thing," said Lockwood, at -once interpreting the expression in the portrait, and the feelings in -his companion's heart. "I, of course, had no reason to love her; but -yet, I grieved for her from my soul." - -Chandos turned abruptly round, laid his left hand upon Lockwood's -shoulder, and seemed about to reply almost bitterly. But then he -stopped suddenly, looked him full in the face, with the finger of his -right hand extended to his companion's breast, and with a sad shake of -the head, moved away. The next time he stopped, it was before a small -work-table, which he gazed at for a minute or two, and then said, "If -there is a sale, Lockwood, as I dare say there will be, I should like -to have that. Purchase it for me; it cannot sell for much." - -He then quickened his pace, and proceeded without a pause to the -abbot's kitchen. There was apparent, however, as he went along, a -quivering of the lip at times, and an occasional wide expansion of the -nostril, which made Lockwood think that strong emotions were busy -within him. Whatever they were, he threw off his gloom when he joined -the good keeper and his wife at their meal; and though not gay, he -chatted with the rest, and sometimes laughed; ate their good cheer -with a hearty appetite, and drank more than one glass of old ale. The -dinner was over, and they were sitting, about two o'clock, with that -pause for digestion, the necessity for which all animals feel, when a -grating sound, as of carriage wheels, was heard; and going to the -window, the three men saw a post-chaise, dragged on slowly by two -sorry jades, through the loose stuff of the long-neglected road. - -"My goody! who can that be?" cried the keeper's wife, looking over her -husband's shoulder. - -"It is Roberts, the steward," said Chandos, with a grave face. "Do not -let him be brought in here, Lockwood. I will see him afterwards; but -it must be alone." - -Lockwood nodded his head significantly, and went out with the keeper, -who hurried to the principal entrance of Winslow Abbey, towards which -the chaise directed its course. - -"Don't say anything at present of the young gentleman being here," -whispered Lockwood to the keeper, as the latter unbolted the great -doors. An acquiescent nod was the reply, and the next moment Mr. -Roberts approached the entrance. - -I must pause, both upon the character and appearance of that person; -for he was not an ordinary one. Richard Roberts was diminutive in -person, though exceedingly well formed; most of his features were -plain; and he was a good deal marked with the small-pox; but his eyes -were fine, large, and expressive; and his brow was both broad and -high. He had been educated as an attorney by his father, who was an -attorney also; but the father and the son were different. The father -was a keen, shrewd, money-making man, who had no scruples within the -law. He had married the daughter of a country banker, and treated her -very harshly from the hour the bank broke. He had been very civil -before. She bore all patiently; for she had a very high sense of duty, -which she transmitted to her son; but she died early; for she was too -gentle and affectionate to endure unkindness long. The young man -submitted to his father's pleasure, though the desk and the red tape -were an abomination to him; and he went on studying deeply till he was -out of his clerkship, when he entered into partnership with his -father. The father, who was a thick-necked man, ate too much, and -drank too much, at a hot corporation-dinner; and a thin alderman--for -there are such things--remarked, that Roberts had eaten and drank -enough that night to serve him his whole life. So it did, too; for, -just as he was peeling his third orange after dinner, and somebody was -getting up to make a speech, which nobody was likely to attend to, Mr. -Roberts leaned amicably upon his next neighbour's breast; and that -gentleman at first imagined--notwithstanding the improbability of the -thing--that Roberts was drunk. When he was set up in his chair again, -he moved not, except to fall slowly to the other side; and then it -began to strike people, that a man might be dead instead of drunk, -even at a corporation-dinner. So it proved; and the firm was changed -from "Roberts and Son," to "Richard Roberts." To the surprise of -everybody, however, the whole business of Mr. Roberts's office was -wound up within three months, and the office closed. Every one knew, -that the old man had been of a money-making turn; but still, they -argued, that he could not have left enough for young Roberts to turn -gentleman upon. This was true; and shortly after he accepted the -situation of steward and law-agent to Sir Harry Winslow, rejecting all -fees, and doing the whole business for a moderate fixed salary, which, -with what his father had left him, was sufficient for his ambition. -Thus he had gone on for five-and-twenty years. The tenants were always -well pleased with him; for he forced no man to take a lease, when an -agreement for one would do as well; but never refused a lease when it -was required. Sir Harry was not always well pleased; for there was a -rigidity about Mr. Roberts, and about his notions, which did not quite -suit him; but Mr. Roberts, like an indispensable minister, was always -ready to resign. He was now a man of more than fifty years of age, -with very white hair, very black eyebrows, and a pale, thoughtful -complexion; and, as he walked up from the chaise to the house, his -step, though not exactly feeble, had none of the buoyancy of youth and -strong health about it. - -"Good morning, Garbett. Good morning, Mr. Lockwood. You have got my -letter, I hope?" - -"Not till this morning, Mr. Roberts," answered Lockwood; "although I -should have had it last night, if the postman would but take the -diagonal line, instead of two sides of a parallelogram." - -Roberts smiled gravely and entered the house, saying: "Mankind will -choose devious ways, Lockwood; but, at all events, I hope you were -satisfied with the information I conveyed. I thought it best to put -your mind at ease at once." - -"Oh! it was never uneasy," answered Lockwood. "I have always my hands -and my head, Mr. Roberts, and I know how to make use of them. But I -suppose you have come to seal the things up here." - -"Not exactly," answered Roberts; "only a little business connected -with my situation, which I trust to get over by to-morrow morning." - -"Will your honour like any dinner?" asked Garbett, the keeper. "My old -woman can get it ready for you in a minute." - -"Not just yet," answered Roberts; "about four o'clock, perhaps; but I -must get through some business first. Show me the way to the late Sir -Harry's business-room, Garbett. It is so long since I was here, that I -almost forget it." - -The keeper did as he was desired; and Mr. Roberts, requiring pen and -ink, and apparently wishing to be left alone, Lockwood and Garbett -left him; and the former rejoined Chandos in the housekeeper's room. -After time had been given for the gamekeeper to supply the steward -with writing materials, and the voice of the former was heard in the -adjoining kitchen, Chandos walked away straight to the room where -Roberts was shut up, and remained there for nearly an hour. At the end -of that time the door opened; and Chandos shook the steward by the -hand, saying: "I shall see you on Saturday, Roberts, for the last -time, perhaps, for months, or years; but I trust entirely to you, to -take care that whatever rights I have are duly protected." - -"That I will do, you may depend upon it, Sir," replied the steward; -"and, perhaps,--But no matter; things must take their course according -to law; for we have no power, unfortunately, over men's hearts." - -Chandos turned away; and the steward remained gazing after him till he -was lost in the turning of the inner cloister. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - - -We have histories of almost everything that the earth contains, or -ever has contained--of kings, and bloody battles; (almost inseparable -from kings;) of republics, and domestic anarchy; (inseparable from -republics;) of laws, rents, prices; (Tooke has despatched prices;) of -churches, sects, religions; of society--that grand, strange, -unaccountable compound of evil and good; where men's vices and -virtues, ever at war, are made mutually to counteract each other, and -bring about an equilibrium balanced on a hair; always vibrating, -sometimes terribly deranged, but ever returning to its poise. But, -thank Heaven! we have not absolutely histories of everything; and, -amongst others, we have not a history of opinion. The world, however, -is a strange place; the men and women in it, strange creatures; and -the man who would sit down to write a true history of opinions, -showing how baseless are those most fondly clung to, how absurd are -those most reverently followed, how wicked are some of those esteemed -most holy, would, in any country, and in any age, be pursued and -persecuted till he were as dead as the carrion on which feeds the -crow; nay, long after his miserable bones were as white as an -egg-shell. I am even afraid of the very assertion; for the world is -too vain, and too cowardly, to hear that any of its opinions are -wrong; and we must swim with the stream, if we would swim at all. -There is one thing, indeed, to be said, which justifies the world, -although it is not the ground on which the world acts--that he who -would upset the opinions established, were he ten times wiser than -Solon, or Solomon either, would produce a thousand evils where he -removed one. It is an old coat that will not bear mending; and the -wearer is, perhaps, right to fly at every one who would peck it. -Moreover, there is _primâ facie_, very little cause to suppose that he -who would overthrow the notions which have been entertained, with -slight modifications, by thousands of human beings through thousands -of years, is a bit more wise, enlightened, true, or virtuous, than the -rest; and I will fairly confess, that I have never yet seen one of -these moral knights-errant who did not replace error by error, folly -by folly, contradiction by contradiction, the absurdities of others by -absurdities of his own. Nay, more; amongst all who have started up to -work a radical change in the opinions of mankind, I have never heard -but of one, the universal adoption of whose views, in their entirety, -would have made the whole race wiser, better, and happier. He was God -as well as man. Men crucified him; and, lest the imperishable truth -should condemn them, set to work to corrupt his words, and pervert his -doctrines, within a century after he had passed from earth. Gnostics, -monks, priests, saints, fathers, all added or took away; and then they -closed the book, and sealed it with a brazen clasp. - -Still there are some good men withal, but not wise, who, bold, and -somewhat vain, set at nought the danger of combatting the world's -opinion, judge for themselves, often not quite sanely, and have a -pride in differing from others. Such is the case, in a great degree, -with that old gentleman sitting at the breakfast-table, on the -right-hand side, with the light streaming through the still green -leaves of plants in a fine conservatory, pouring on his broad bald -head and gray hair. I do not mean the man so like him, but somewhat -younger, who is reading a newspaper at the end of the table, while he -takes his coffee, colder than it might have been, if he had contented -himself with doing one thing at one time. They are brothers; but very -different in habits, thoughts, and views. The organ of reverence, if -there be such an organ, is very large in the one, nearly wanting in -the other; and yet there are some things that the elder brother does -reverence, too--virtue, honour, gentleness, purity. Now, he would not, -for the world, shock the ears of those two beautiful girls, his -brother's daughters, with many of the notions which he himself -entertains. He reverences conscientious conviction, even where he -differs; and would not take away a hope, or undermine a principle, for -the world. - -The elder girl asked him if he would take any more coffee. "No, my -Lily," he answered, (for he was poetical in speech and mind,) "not -even from your hands, love;" and rising for a moment from the table, -with his hands behind his broad burly back, he moved to the window, -and looked into the conservatory. - -"What makes you so grave, dear uncle?" asked the other girl, -following; "I will know; for I am in all your secrets." - -"All, my Rose?" he said, smiling at her, and taking one of the rich -curls of her hair in his hand. "What heart ever lays bare all its -secrets? One you do not know." - -"Indeed!" she cried, sportively. "Then confess it this instant. You -have no right to have any from me." - -"Listen, then," he answered, pulling her to him with a look of -fatherly affection, and whispering: "I am in love with Rose Tracy. -Don't tell Lily, for I am in love with her too; and unfortunately, we -are not in Turkey, where polygamy gives vast scope to the tender -passions." - -"What is he saying about me?" asked Emily Tracy, the elder of the -nieces, who caught the sound of her own abbreviated name. "Do not -believe a word he says, Rose; he is the most perfidious of men." - -"I know he is," replied her sister; "he is just now sighing over the -prohibition of polygamy, and wishing himself in Turkey." - -"Not if you were not with me, Rose," cried her uncle, with a hearty -laugh that shook the room. "Why should I not have a whole garden of -roses--with some lilies--with some lilies too? Ha, ha, ha!" - -"It is always the way with men who never marry at all," said Emily; -"they all long for polygamy. Why do you not try what a single marriage -is like, my dear uncle, before you think of multiplying it?" - -"Because two panniers are more easily borne than one, my Lily," -answered her uncle, laughing again. - -The two girls united to scold him; and he replied with compliments, -sometimes hyperbolical, sometimes bitter, and with much laughter, till -his brother was roused from his deep studies, laid down the newspaper, -drunk his coffee, and joined them at the window. - -"Well, Walter," he said, "I see those amusing Frenchmen have given a -verdict of guilty, with extenuating circumstances, against another -woman who has poisoned her husband with arsenic. He was kind, tender, -affectionate, the evidence shows; forgave her a great many offences; -and treated her with anything but harshness, though she certainly was -not the best of wives. She poisoned him slowly, quietly, deliberately, -that she might marry a paramour, who had already corrupted her. Yet -they find 'extenuating circumstances.'" - -"To be sure," answered General Tracy. "Do you not see them, Arthur? -You say, he forgave her a great number of offences, and consequently, -did not do his duty to himself, or to her. But the truth is, these -Frenchmen think murder better than execution; and, after massacring -thousands of honest men, some forty or fifty years ago, will not now -put one guilty man to death, though his crime is proved by -irresistible evidence." - -"It is all slop," replied Mr. Arthur Tracy. "The word is, perhaps, a -little vulgar, but yet I repeat it, 'It is all slop.' I will write an -essay upon slop, someday; for we have just as much of it in England, -as they have in France; only we shelter murder under a _monomania_, -and the French under _extenuating_ circumstances. It is wonderful how -slop is beginning to pervade all classes of society. It already -affects even romance-writers and novelists. The people used to rejoice -in blood and murder, so that an old circulating library was like a -bear's den; nothing but gore and bones. But now one is sickened in -every page, with maudling sentimentality, only fit for the second -piece of a minor theatre. Love-sick dustmen, wronged and sentimental -greengrocers; poetic and inspired costermongers; with a whole host of -blind, lame, and deformed peasantry and paupers, transformed into -angels and cherubs, by the assistance of a few clap-trap phrases, -which have been already hackneyed for half a century on the stage. -Slop, slop, Walter; it is all slop; and at the bottom of every kind of -slop, is charlatanism." - -"Humbug, you mean," said his elder brother. "Why do you use a French -word, when you can get an English one, Arthur?" - -"If the men really wished to defend the cause of the poor," continued -Mr. Tracy, taking no notice of his brother's reproach, "why don't they -paint them and their griefs as they really are? Did you ever see, -Walter, in all your experience, such lackadaisical, poetical, -white-aproned damsels amongst the lower classes, as we find in books -now-a-days?" - -"Oh yes," said General Tracy; "I'll find you as many as you like, on -the condition that they be educated at a ladies' charity-school, where -they stitch romance into their samplers, write verses in their -copy-books, and learn to scrub the floors to etherial music.--But -come, my Flowers," he added, turning to his nieces, "will you take a -walk? and we will go and see some real cottages, and see some real -peasants." - -His proposal was willingly agreed to; and Mr. Tracy--who was of a -speculative disposition--was speculating whether he should go with -them, or not, when the butler entered and put his negative upon it, by -saying: "Please, Sir, here is a young man come to ask about the head -gardener's place." - -"I will see him in a minute," said Mr. Tracy. "Show him into the -library." - -While the father of the family, after looking at one or two more -paragraphs in the newspaper, walked into his library, to see the -person who waited for him, his two daughters had gone to put on -bonnets and shawls; and the old General sauntered out, through the -conservatory, to the lawn before the house. Nothing could be more -beautiful, or more tasteful, than the arrangements of the whole -grounds. Large masses of hardy exotics were planted round, now, alas! -no longer in flower; but a multitude of the finest and the rarest -evergreens hid the ravages which the vanguard of winter had already -made, and afforded shelter from the cutting winds to some few autumnal -flowers, which yet lingered, as if unwilling to obey the summons to -the grave. The old man gazed upon the gardens, and vacant parterres; -upon the shrubberies of evergreen, and upon the leafless plants beside -them; and a sad and solemn spirit came upon him as he looked. Poetry, -the magic mirror in the mind, which reflects all external things with -hues more intense than the realities, received and returned every sad -image, that the decay of nature's children presents, in colours more -profound and dark. He thought of the tomb, and of corruption, and of -the vanity of all man's efforts upon earth, and upon the sleep that -knows no waking, and the perishing of our very memory from among our -kindred and our race. The warm life that still throbbed high in his -old heart, revolted at the idea of cold extinction, he felt that it is -a terrible doom that rests upon all the children of the dust; but -threefold terrible, to the only being conscious of its inevitable -coming, filled with the first of the waters of life, instinct with -appreciation of all its excellence. He had been in battle, that old -man, he had faced the cannon and the bayonet, had heard the eager -balls whistle round his temples, screaming like vultures for his -blood; he had seen thousands dying about him; but he had never felt -what a dreary thing death is, as in the presence of those fading -flowers. - -At length the two girls joined him, and he put on a less thoughtful -air; but Rose, the youngest and the gayest, had a shadow on her brow; -he knew not from what. It was not altogether sad; but it was as if a -cloud had passed for a moment between her eyes and the sun, rendering -the deep blue more deep. - -The day was fine and bright, but cold; and a shrewd wind moved the dry -leaves about under the trees, making them whisper like ghosts as they -rustled past. The old man breasted the breeze, however; and his clear -rosy cheek seemed to glow only the more warmly in the spirit of -resistance. So, too, his mind opposed itself to the blast of chill -thoughts which had assailed him, and he laughed and jested with his -nieces, as they went, on the very subjects which had oppressed him -when alone. - -"Look, Lily," he said, "how all the children of the spring are -gathered into the grave of winter, already massed up to crumble down, -and be succeeded by others doomed to pass away after a brief space -like themselves! And thus we shall all tumble from our boughs and -wither. There, that faded thing is me, full of holes and scars as a -politician's conscience; and that Michaelmas-daisy is you, Lily, -blossoming upon the arm of winter." - -"You are lively, dear uncle," said Emily, laughing; "and Rose does not -seem gay, though she was so merry just now. You must have said -something very serious to her at the window, for she has been in a -reverie ever since we left the breakfast-room." - -"Faith, I was very serious," answered her uncle: "I offered her -marriage; but she said it was against the laws of the realm and the -common prayer-book, to marry your grandfather or your uncle. What is -it, Summer-flower, that makes you hang your head?" - -"Winter, I suppose, uncle," replied his younger niece. "But, if truth -must be told, I am not warm. Lest us walk more quickly, till we get -behind the grove, where there is shelter from this biting wind." - -They did walk on more quickly; and Rose, either by an effort, or -naturally, grew gayer. They passed through the grove, and out upon the -fields, then through lanes again, deep, between banks, with withered -shrubs above, when suddenly there came upon them a smell, pleasant in -winter, of burning wood, mingled with turf. - -"There are some of the yellow people near," said General Tracy. "Now, -Rose, is the time, if you would have your fortune told." - -"I should like it, of all things," cried the girl, gladly. "Dear -uncle, let us find them out, and hear what a trifle of husbands and -wives they will give us. You will come in for your share, depend upon -it; and a sweet delusive vision of polygamy and 'famed Turkie' will be -afforded you yet." - -"Oh! I am quite ready," said her uncle. "But, what say you, Lily?" - -"That I think it is always very foolish," answered Emily, "to have -anything to do with such people. If you believe them, they make you -uneasy, and play upon your credulity. If you do not believe them, why -give half-a-crown for imposition?" - -"Reasoned like Aristotle, dear Lily," exclaimed her uncle; "but there -is one point in philosophy which you have not taken into -consideration. Everybody has a certain portion of folly to expend, -which, like a boy's new guinea, burns his pocket till it is all gone. -Now I wish every one had as innocent a way of spending his -foolishness: so Rose and I will have our fortunes told. You shall do -as you like." - -"I am as glad of having half-a-crown in my pocket," cried Rose, "as a -housemaid when she first hears the cuckoo." - -While they had been speaking they had walked on through the lane to a -wider spot, where, under a yellow bank, with blackberries still -hanging above, like dark eyes amongst the withered leaves, rose up the -smoke of the forbidden pot. Two or three of the tents of Kedar were -seen under shelter of the high ground, dingy and begrimed with -manifold seasons of exposure, and apparently not large enough to hold -one of the bipeds which usually nestle in them in multitudes. The -reason given for an ostrich not sitting on its eggs (which is very -doubtful, by-the-by) might well be given for a gipsey not living in -his tent, _i. e_. because his legs are too long; but, not to discuss -the matter too philosophically, there were the tents, but no gipseys -in them. Nor were there many out of them in their immediate -neighbourhood; for only one was to be seen, and that a woman. Not the -slightest touch of Meg Merrilies, not the slightest touch of Lena, was -apparent in the worthy dame. She was a woman perhaps of six or seven -and twenty years of age, as yellow as a crow's foot, but with a good -warm glow shining through the golden russet. Her eyes were black as -sloes, and shining like polished jet. The features were all good, -though not as new as they once had been; very like the features of -figures found painted in Egyptian tombs, if ever you saw them, -reader--straight, yet not Grecian, and more resembling those of the -bust of the sybil than any others of classical lands and times. She -was still plump, and in good case, without having reached the full -amplitude (is that a pleonasm?) which it is probable she would attain, -and still farther removed from that state of desiccation at which she -would certainly arrive if she lived long enough. Her head was covered -with the peculiar straw bonnet, in the peculiar shape which has given -a name to a part of ladies' head gear; from her shoulders hung the red -cloak, and crossed upon her abundant bosom was a handkerchief of -crimson and yellow. She was not at all poetical or romantical, but a -very handsome woman notwithstanding. She was evidently a priestess of -Vesta, without vows, left to keep the sacred fire in, while the rest -of the sisterhood and brotherhood were absent upon different errands; -and as soon as she perceived a well-dressed party approaching, she -abandoned the flame, and came forward with her head bent coaxingly, -and her black eyes gleaming forth from beneath the raven hair. The -rapid look she gave to each, seemed enough to afford her every clue to -character she might want; and with vast volubility she cried, in a -musical but whining tone, "Cross my hand, dear ladies and gentleman; -cross my hand, pretty ladies--cross it with silver, or cross it with -gold, 'tis all the same; you have nice fortunes, I can see by the -corner of the eye. I shall have to tell you wonderful things, when I -look in your palms, I know, pretty ladies. And that old gentleman will -have half a dozen wives yet, for all his hair is so white, and -children like a covey of partridges." - -Rose laughed gaily, drew out her purse, and tendered her fair hand. -The gipsey woman, after having got her fee, took the rosy tip of the -long, taper middle finger, and gazed as seriously into the palm as if -she believed there was truth in her art. Perhaps she did, for -imposture is often like a charge of gun-powder, and acts as strongly -towards the breech as towards the muzzle. But when she had examined -the few soft lines for a minute, she shook her head gravely, saying, -"You will live long and happily, pretty lady, though there's a sad -cross about the beginning of the line of life; but the line goes -through, and then it's all clear; and, let me see--yes--you shall -marry a gardener." - -With a start, Rose drew away her hand, and her face became crimson; -while her sister and her uncle laughed aloud, with a little spice of -good-humoured malice. - -"Come," cried the old General, "there's a fine fate for you, Flower! -Now are you satisfied? It is true, depend upon it; it is true. These -Egyptians were always masters of mighty secrets; witness their rods -turned into serpents, though it was but to feast Aaron's rod. But this -brown lady of Egypt shall tell my fortune, too; for she looks - - - 'A palace - For crowned truth to dwell in--.' - - -Here, my sorceress, look at my palm, and see what you can make of -that! It has been crossed by many a piece of gold and silver in its -day, as well as your own." - -The woman resumed her examination; and studied the broad furrowed hand -attentively. At length she said, looking up in the old man's face, -"You shall live as you have lived, but not die as you have lived. You -shall not fall by fire or steel." - -"Nor lead?" asked the soldier. - -"No," she answered, "nor by accident of any kind; but by slow decay, -like a sick bird in a cage, or a sick horse in a stall; and you shall -see death coming for long days before he comes." - -"That's not pleasant," said General Tracy. "But what will become of my -half dozen of wives?" - -"They will all die with you," answered the woman with a grin, which -showed her white teeth to the back; "for no other wife will you have -than you now have." - -"Hard fate!" cried Walter Tracy, lifting up his hands and eyes, and -laughing--"six wives all in one day, and their husband, to boot! But I -understand how it is. They must be all Hindoos, and will burn -themselves at my funeral, poor things! Now, Emily, it is your turn." - -"Not I," replied the young lady, gravely; "I have not the slightest -inclination." - -"Ah, pretty lady," cried the gipsey, "do cross my hand, and I will -tell your beautiful fortune in a minute." - -"No, indeed, my good woman," replied Emily Tracy. "I am quite -contented to wait till God shows it to me. If I believed you could -tell, I should think it wrong to ask you; and as I do not believe you -can, it would be only foolish." - -The gipsey woman looked at her fiercely, and exclaimed, with an angry -and menacing voice, "You do not believe? I will make you believe. I -don't need to look in your hand. Your proud heart will be humbled--you -will marry a felon." - -"Come, come, this is somewhat too much," said General Tracy; "no -insolence, my good woman, or I may have occasion to punish it. Those -who are foolish enough to ask you questions, you may answer as you -will; but you have no right to say such things to those who make no -inquiries of you." - -"It is true, and so you will find," answered the woman, returning -sullenly to her pot; and without taking any further notice of her, the -party walked on. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - - -In the gray of the early morning a young man walked across the -country, near Winslow park. He was dressed like a respectable -countryman, with a good plain fustian coat upon his back, and leathern -gaiters on his legs. Robust and healthy, he went along at a quick -pace; but yet his look was not joyous, and his brow was stern. The -country rose gradually over gentle slopes at first, and then wooded -hills. Soon it reached a barer region, where downs extended far and -wide, and great hills were seen, scantily covered with short grass. No -trees; but here and there a stunted hawthorn, or solitary fir; no -hedgerows, no cultivated field were there, except where now and then -the traces of the plough were apparent in a dell, promising a thin -crop of barley or rye for the ensuing year. The air was cold and -invigorating, the sky clear, and the curlew, with its arched wings, -and wild whistle, skimmed away from the white patch of uncovered cliff -as the wayfarer passed by, even at a distance. He walked on, five--ten -miles; and then he passed through a gap in the hills where they had -been cut precipitously down, through chalk and flint, to give passage -to the cross-country road. When he had reached the middle of the gap, -another country was before him, lying beautiful and soft in the blue -morning. Cold might be the colouring, but dark, and fine, and clear. -There were woods, and fields, and two or three villages; and a small -river, down, down, several miles below. After walking on, gradually -descending, for about a quarter of an hour, the traveller saw a -finger-post, where the road divided. "To East Greys," said one limb. -"To Northferry," said the other; and he took the latter path. - -Two or three minutes after, he overtook an old man in very ragged -robes. His face was both yellow and dirty, like a copper pot which had -been used several times. In his hand he carried an old kettle without -a spout, filled with charcoal, and under his arm a basket and a pair -of bellows. He seemed very poor. - -"Won't you give a poor man something to help him on?" he said, in a -cracked voice, as the traveller turned round and looked at him. - -"My good friend, I am nearly as poor as yourself," replied the other; -"however, there is sixpence for you. - - - 'For the poor man alone, - To the poor man's moan, - Of his morsel a morsel will give, well a' day!'" - - -The travelling tinker took the money, and put it in his pocket, -saying, "Thank you, Sir. Do you know where a man could get something -to eat, and a pint of beer?" - -"No, indeed," answered the other; "I do not know this side of the -hills at all; and was just going to ask you the same question you have -put to me. I want very much to find some place where I can get food -and drink, for I am very hungry; and information, for I have several -questions to ask." - -The tinker winked his eye; and, with his peculiar intonation, which -from cold, or crying for half a century, "Old pots to mend!" was half -a whisper, and half a scream, he said, "I think I know where we can -find all, if you are not afraid to come with me." - -"Why should I be afraid?" asked the other. "I have very little to lose -but my skin, and it is not worth taking." - -"I don't know that," said the tinker. "It would do finely to mend my -bellusses. But, come along; your skin shall be quite safe, and all the -rest too. You shall have your sixpenn'orth, for giving the sixpence -kindly." - -The traveller walked on with him without deliberation, saying, "You -are going to a party of your own people, I suppose?" - -"Ay," answered the other; "there are two or three of our families down -here--some of the best of them; Stanleys, and others. They can't be -far; somewhere out of the way of the wind." - -With a few short sentences of this sort they went on for a mile and a -half further, and wound in amongst the woods and sandy lanes, which -now took place of the downs and chalk hills. Presently, the old man -pointed with his free hand, saying, "They are down there." - -"You must have known that before," said his companion. - -"Not I," rejoined the tinker. "I can see things that you cannot." - -In five minutes more Chandos was seated near the entrance of a -gipsey-tent, with his comrade of the way by his side; about a dozen -yellow people, of all ages, around; and a wild shaggy horse or two -cropping the scanty grass hard by. They were a set of people he made -himself at home amongst in a moment; and his introduction by the -tinker was quite sufficient to obtain for him a supply of provisions, -better than what his sixpence would have procured in any other place, -and more than double in quantity. There was one good-looking comely -dame, of about six-and-twenty, who seemed to regard him with peculiar -interest, and took care to see that his wants were attended to -liberally, both with meat and drink. But the curse of all small -communities, curiosity, was upon them; and every one asked him, -instead of answering his questions. Where he came from, whither he was -going, what was his business, what the object of his journey, was all -inquired into without the least ceremony. His answers were cheerfully -given, to all appearance. He told them, that he had come from a good -distance, that he was going to Northferry, and that he was about to -seek the place of head-gardener at the house of Mr. Arthur Tracy. - -"Oh, it is a beautiful place, surely," answered the brown lady, who -took so much care of him, and sat on his left hand. - -"And a capital farm-yard there is," rejoined a stout merry young -vagabond just opposite. "Such hens and turkeys, my eye!" - -"I shall have nothing to do with the farm-yard," answered Chandos, -with a smile and a nod; which the other understood right well, and -laughed at in return. - -"And so you are a gardener," whispered the woman, while the rest were -talking loud. "I've a notion you have had other trades in your day." - -"I never was of any other trade in my life," answered Chandos, boldly. -The woman looked at him through her half-closed eyes for a moment, and -then shook her head. - -"Are you fondest of roses or lilies?" she asked in the same tone. -"Lilies, I should think, by the colour of your hands." - -"There you are mistaken," said Chandos; "I prefer roses, much. But -tell me what you know of the place. Are they good, kind people there?" - -"Oh, yes!--Two queer coves are the old men; (Did you never see them?) -but good enough for that matter," was the brown lady's reply. "They -are not over fond of persecuting, and such things. And then, the two -girls are well enough to look at. The eldest seems cold and proud, and -I dare say she is; but she gave little Tim there a shilling one day. -She didn't know he was a gipsey, as they call us, because he's so -white; or she wouldn't, I dare say. But I can tell you what, my lad: -if you do not understand your gardener's trade well, I'd advise you -not to go there; for the old Squire knows every flower in the garden, -they tell me, by its christened name." - -Chandos laughed, and saying, "He won't puzzle me, I think," rose from -the turf. "I must go," he continued; "for you say it is three miles -yet, and I havn't time to spare." - -To say the truth, he did not feel quite sure that he would be -permitted to depart so easily; for it was very evident to him, that -one at least of the party had found out that his profession of -gardener was assumed for the nonce; and he might well fancy that she -suspected him of having more money on his person than he really had. -No opposition was made, however; and the old tinker, who seemed to be -a man of consideration with his clan, sent one of the boys to show the -traveller on his way to a finger-post, which would direct him further. - -The real distance in a straight line was not, in fact, more than two -miles; but the various turnings and windings which the road took -rendered it little less than the woman had said; and it was about ten -o'clock when he reached the back door of Northferry House, and stating -his object, asked for admission. The butler brought him into the hall, -and went, as we have seen in the preceding chapter, to ask if his -master would see the applicant. While he stood there, he gazed around -with some interest on the wide vestibule, the broad stone stairs, the -handsome marble columns, and the view through a pair of glass doors -into the garden beyond; but, whether he admired or not, his -contemplations were soon interrupted. The door of the breakfast-room -opened again, and while the butler held it back, two beautiful girls -came out, laughing gaily. There was a column in the way, which made -them separate, and the younger took the side of the hall, where he was -standing. Her eyes fell upon him, rested on his face, as if -spell-bound, and then her cheek turned first pale and next red. She -passed on in haste; but Chandos could see that she lingered behind her -sister on the stairs, and walked with her eyes bent down in deep -thought. He saw it with a faint smile. - -"Come with me, master," said the butler, as soon as he had closed the -door; "Mr. Tracy will see you in a minute." - -It was a large, fine room, into which Chandos was led, supported by -six marble columns like those in the hall. On three sides there were -books; on one, three windows down to the ground. And having been -introduced, he was left there to follow his own devices. His first -impulse was, to throw himself into a large easy chair; but then, -recollecting that was not exactly a gardener's place, and that it was -a gardener's place he was seeking, he rose up again, and walked to the -window, out of which he looked for about three minutes. That was all -very well, if he had remained there; for the windows fronted the -gardens, and he might be supposed to be contemplating the scene of his -expected labours. But Mr. Tracy did not appear very soon; the time -grew tedious; and once more forgetting what he was about, Chandos -walked up to one of the bookcases, and took out a large folio book, -in a vellum cover. He first looked at the title-page, where, printed -in all the luxury of amateur typography, stood the words--"Villa -Bromhamensis." He had never heard of the Villa Bromhamensis; and -turning over the leaves, he began to read some very fair Latin verses, -descriptive of the countryseat of a noble family now, I believe, -extinct. - -While he was thus engaged, the door opened behind him. He was not too -deeply interested not to hear it, and recalled to himself in a moment, -he was hurrying to put the book back in its place, with an air of some -confusion, when the bland voice of Mr. Tracy stopped him, saying, -"What have you got there, my good man? Do not be alarmed, I like that -people should take every opportunity of instructing themselves; but I -should wish to see the subject of your studies." - -Chandos gave up the book into his hands, with a low bow, and some -doubt as to the result of the investigation; but he was not altogether -without ready wit, and when Mr. Tracy exclaimed, with some surprise, -"Latin! Do you read Latin?" he answered, "Certainly, Sir. How should I -know my business else, when so many books are written upon it in -Latin?" - -"True, true," said Mr. Tracy, whose humour, by a lucky accident, was -exactly fitted by such a reply; and at the same time, he looked the -soi-disant gardener over, from head to foot. "You have made a good -choice, too," he added; "for my old friend here, has given a very -pretty description of a very nice place." - -"This, I should think, had the advantage, in point of ground, Sir," -replied Chandos, in a well-chosen tone, neither too humble nor too -elevated: "as that young plantation grows up, to cover the bare hill -side, it will be very beautiful." - -"I planted those trees five years ago, many of them with my own -hands," said Mr. Tracy, with pride in his own work, which he feared -might appear too plainly. "It is not very well done. You see, those -larches in another year, will hide that beautiful bit of distance." - -"One can never tell, Sir, how trees will grow up," answered Chandos, -who was now completely in his part; "but that will be easily mended. -Cut the back trees down that stand highest; and if you want to thicken -the belt below, plant it up with a few quick-growing pines. You can -move them at almost any age, so as to have it done without anybody -knowing it, except by seeing the hills again." - -"You seem to be a young man of very good taste," said Mr. Tracy; "but -come out with me, and we will see more clearly what you mean." He -opened the library window as he spoke, and they walked forth over the -lawn. Mr. Tracy asked many questions as they went, cross-examined the -applicant upon botany, and upon the more minute and practical part of -his art; found him at least theoretically proficient, and ended by -fearing that, notwithstanding his homely dress, he would prove too -complete a gardener for the wages which he intended to give. It was a -delicate point; for Mr. Tracy had a fondness for money. He was not a -miser, far from it; he was not even one of those men--they are almost -always vulgar men, in mind, if not in station--who love an economical -ostentation, who are lavish for show, and stingy in secret. But there -are a thousand shades in the passion of avarice, as well as in every -other, from the reasonable, the just, and the wise, to the senseless -self-abandonment to an all-consuming desire. Mr. Tracy had in his life -known what it is to need money; he had felt in youth the pressure, not -of actual want, but of straitened circumstances; and when his maternal -uncle's death put him in possession of a fortune, greatly superior to -his elder brother's, he retained a strong sense of the value of money, -and a passion for rapidly acquiring more. - -"Well, my good friend," he said, as they approached the house again, -"I am quite satisfied with your knowledge and experience in these -matters; and, I dare say, you have got testimonials of your character; -but I fear that you have imagined the place you are now applying for -to be better than it really is. It is merely that of head-gardener, in -the service of a gentleman of very moderate fortune. You would have an -under-gardener, and three labourers to assist; but your own wages -would not be so large as, perhaps, your acquirements may entitle you." - -Chandos replied, that whatever had been given to his predecessor would -content him; and produced a letter from Mr. Roberts, the steward of -Sir John Winslow, giving a high testimony to his general conduct, and -to his skill as a practical gardener. All was then soon arranged; Mr. -Tracy was anxious that his new servant should enter upon his duties as -soon as possible, for the predecessor had been dead some weeks; but -Chandos claimed four days for preparation, and made one or two -conditions; and having been shown the cottage which he was to inhabit, -took his leave, with the contract complete. - -It was done; the plan he had proposed to himself was so far executed: -and when, after quitting Northferry, he sat down in a small solitary -room of a little road-side inn, he began to laugh, and reconsider the -whole with calmer, and less impassioned thoughts, than he had -previously given to the subject. How different a thing looks when it -is done, and when it is doing! As soon as Fate buys a picture from any -man, she turns it with its face to the wall, and its back to the -seller, writes INEVITABLE upon it, with a piece of black chalk; and -the poor fool can never have the same view of it again. - -Chandos was a gardener--a hired servant--in that balanced state where -thirty shillings a-week is thrown into the scale against slavery, just -to prevent freedom from kicking the beam. A great many things had -entered into the concoction of the notable scheme which he had -pursued. There was the first vehement impulse of a noble but impetuous -disposition; a good deal of pride, a little philosophy, and a touch of -romance. He had determined to taste for a while the food of an -inferior station, to know feelingly how the lowly earn their bread, -and spend their lives; to see the things of humble condition not with -a telescope from a height, but with the eye close to the object, and -with a microscope, should need be. He had long been of opinion that it -would be no misuse of time, were every young man even of much higher -rank and pretensions than his own, to spend a year or more amongst the -labouring classes of society, taking part in their toils, sharing -their privations, learning in the school of experience their habits, -wants, wishes, feelings. Our ancestors used to send their children out -to a healthy cottage to nurse during their infancy, and, in many -cases, (not all,) ensured thereby to their offspring robust and hardy -constitutions, which could not have been gained in the luxurious -dwellings of the great and high. Chandos had fancied often that such -training might be as good for the mind as the body, had longed to try -it, had thought it would do him good, especially when he found false -views and cold conventionalities creep upon him, when he felt his -judgment getting warped to the set forms of class, and his tastes -becoming fastidious. Accident had fixed his resolution, and accident -had given the direction in which it acted. But there were -difficulties, inconveniences, regrets, which he had not thought of. We -never embrace a new state without remembering with longing some of the -advantages of the old one. He thought of being cut off from all -refined society, with sensations not pleasurable; he thought of being -discovered by old acquaintances with some sort of apprehension. But -then he remembered that he was little likely to be brought into -immediate contact with any of the great and high. He repeated to -himself that no one had a right to question his conduct, or control -his tastes. And in regard to refined occupations, to relieve the -monotony of manual labour, had he not books? could he not converse -with the dead? Besides, he had made one stipulation with Mr. -Tracy--well nigh the only one--that he should have a month's holiday -in the dead time of the year--to see his friends; such was the motive -assigned. But Chandos' purpose was to spend that month in London; to -re-appear for that period in his real character; to renew in it all -those ties that were worth maintaining, and to enjoy the contrasts of -a double life, combining the two extremes of society. His means might -be small, but for that purpose they were quite sufficient; and with -these consolatory reflections he finished his humble meal, and set out -upon his way again. - -He did not pursue the same way back which he had taken to come to -Northferry, for he was anxious to save time; and he had learned at the -public-house that there was a coach which passed upon the high-road at -about two miles distance, which would spare him a walk of ten miles, -and do in one hour what would take him two. He wound on then along -lanes, through which he had been directed for about ten minutes, and -was still buried in reveries, not altogether sweet, when he was -suddenly roused by a loud and piercing shriek. There was a break in -the hedge about fifty yards distant, showing, evidently, by the worn -sandy ground before it, the opening of a foot-path. The sound came -from that side, and Chandos darted towards it without further -consideration. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - - -There was a narrow broken path up the bank. There was a high stile at -the top. But Chandos was up the one and over the other in a moment. He -did not like to hear a scream at all, and still less a scream from a -woman's lips. When he could see into the field, a sight presented -itself not altogether uncommon in England, where we seldom, if ever, -guard against an evil till it is done, and never take warning by an -evil that is done. More than twelve years ago, a pamphlet was printed, -called, "What will the Government do with the Railroads?"--and in it -was detailed very many of the evils which a prudent and scientific man -could foresee, from suffering railways to proceed unregulated. It was -sent, I believe, by the author to a friend who undertook to answer it. -The answer consisted of two or three sheets of paper, folded as a -book, and bearing on each page the word "Nothing." The answer was -quite right. Government did _nothing_--till it was too late. - -People never tether dangerous bulls till they have killed someone; and -when Chandos entered the field, the first sight that met his eyes was -a tall, powerful old man on the ground, and two young and graceful -women at some distance: one still flying fast towards a gate, under -the first strong irresistible impulse of terror; the other, stopping -to gaze back, and wringing her hands in agony. Close by the old man -was an enormous brindled bull, with short horns, which was running -slowly back, with its eyes fixed upon the prostrate figure before it, -as if to make another rush at him as he lay; and at a short distance -from the bull was a ragged little boy, of some eight or nine years -old, who, with the spirit of a hero, was running straight towards the -furious beast, shouting loudly, in the vain hope, apparently, that his -infant voice would terrify the tyrant of the field. - -Luckily, Chandos had a stout sapling oak in his hand; and he, too, -sprang forward with the swift fire of youth. But before he could reach -the spot, the bull, attracted by the vociferations of the boy, turned -upon his little assailant, and with a fearful rush caught him on his -horns, and tossed him high into the air. The next moment, however, -Chandos was upon him. He was young, active, tremendously powerful, -and, though not quite equal in strength to bull-bearing Milo, was no -insignificant antagonist. He had a greater advantage still, however. -He had been accustomed to country life from his early youth, and knew -the habits of every beast of the field. The bull, in attacking the -boy, had turned away from both the old man and Chandos, and, with a -bound forward, the latter seized the savage animal by the tail, -striking it furiously with his stick. The bull at first strove to turn -upon him, or to disengage himself; but Chandos held on with a grasp of -iron, though swung round and round by the efforts of his antagonist; -and all the time he thundered blows upon it as thick as hail; now upon -its side, now upon its head, but oftener upon its legs; and still he -shouted--as, in the desperate conflict, his eyes passed over the -figures of the two ladies, or the old man, who was now rising slowly -from the ground--"Run! run!" - -How the combat was to end for himself, of course he knew not, for, -though staggering, and evidently intimidated by so sudden an attack, -the bull was still strong and furious; but Chandos had all his senses -in full activity, and when, after several fierce plunges to escape, -the animal again swung itself round to reach him, he aimed a -tremendous blow with his full force at the fore-knee, on which its -whole weight rested. The leg gave way under the pain, and the -monstrous beast rolled prostrate on the ground. - -Not a minute was to be lost: the bull was struggling up again; but the -instinct of self-preservation is strong, and in a moment Chandos drew -a knife from his pocket, and cut a sinew of the leg--although it was -with pain and a feeling almost of remorse that he did it. The animal -gave a sort of shrill scream, and instantly rolled over on its side -again. - -"There, that is done," said the young man, speaking to himself; and -then running up to the old gentleman, he inquired, "Are you hurt, -Sir?--Are you much hurt?" - -"A little--not much," said General Tracy; "but the boy--the boy! You -are a gallant fellow, upon my life; but so is that poor boy." - -The General received no reply, for Chandos was already by the side of -the boy. He gazed into his face as the little fellow lay upon his back -motionless. The dark hazel eyes were clear and bright, and the -complexion, bronzed with exposure, still showed a good ruddy glow in -the middle of the check. - -"He cannot be much hurt," thought Chandos, as he bent earnestly over -him; "there is none of the paleness of bodily suffering; and, thank -God! the after-crop of grass is long and thick. Well, my boy," he -continued aloud, "what has the bull done to you?" - -"Given me a skylarking," answered the boy, in a good strong voice. - -"But has he hurt you anywhere?" asked Chandos; while General Tracy -moved slowly up, and the two young ladies stood, trembling and out of -breath, at a distance. - -"No," said the little fellow; "he didn't poke me; he guv me a thump -under the arm, and I went over his head." - -"But why do you not get up then?" inquired Chandos. - -"Because it is comfortable to lie here; and because, when I try to get -up, my shoulder twinges," was the boy's answer. - -"Let me look," said Chandos; and turning him upon his side, he pulled -down the collar of the ragged jacket, when he evidently saw a -protuberance which was never put upon any mortal shoulder by nature. -It was dislocated. The grief of General Tracy was great for the poor -boy's misfortune, incurred in his defence; but he gave it no exuberant -expression. - -"You are a good boy," he said; "a very good boy; and you shall be -rewarded. Your shoulder will soon be well, and I will take care of -you. Who are your father and mother? We must send and let them know;" -and as he spoke, he looked round towards the bull, who, with a true -philosophical spirit, seemed, by this time, to have made up his mind -to his fate, and was lying quite still, with his fore quarters in the -natural position of a bull at rest, and his hind quarters thrown over -on one side, not altogether easy. His tongue was hanging out of his -mouth, too. - -"My mother is Sally Stanley," answered the boy; "and who my father is -I don't know." - -"Right," said the General, laconically; "right, to a proverb." - -"Did not I see you with the gipseys this morning?" inquired Chandos. -"Are you not little Tim?" - -"Yes," answered the gipsey boy; and the moment after he added, "there -comes farmer Thorpe. He'll be precious angry with you for hocking his -bull." - -"Then you are not the owner of the bull?" said General Tracy, turning -quickly to Chandos. - -"Oh, no, Sir," answered the other; "I was only passing by chance, and -heard a lady scream, which made me run to give help. I have just been -engaged as head-gardener to Mr. Arthur Tracy." - -"He should have engaged you as bull-driver," said the General, "as -bull-fighter, as matador." - -"Perhaps he may not have much work in that way, Sir," answered -Chandos; and was about to retire; but the General exclaimed, "Stay, -stay! What can we do with this poor lad? He is a fine fellow. I must -take care of him for life; for I rather think he has saved mine at the -risk of his own. I wish we could get him down to my brother's place; -for we must have his shoulder looked to, in the first instance." - -At that moment, a stout, black-browed, middle-aged man came across the -field, looked down at the bull for a moment, and then advanced, with a -sturdy and determined look, to General Tracy and Chandos, without -saying a word till he was close to them, when he exclaimed, with a -very menacing air, "Holla, Sirs, what have you been doing with my -bull?" - -"What has your bull, if that one be yours, been doing with us? is the -question which should be asked," replied General Tracy, turning sharp -upon him; but wincing dreadfully, as if the sudden movement gave him -great pain. - -"That's by the mark," answered the farmer, staring at the General -first, and at Chandos afterwards; as if the spirit of his own bull had -entered into him, and he was determined to toss them both. "He is a -brute beast, and accountable to no un; but them as ha' hocked un are -reasonable creeturs, and accountable to I. So, I say, what ha' you two -been doing with my bull?" - -"The first thing I did with him," answered Chandos, "was what I will -do to you, if you are insolent, master farmer. I gave him a good -thrashing. And in the next place, as there was no chance of saving my -life, and that of others, from him, if I spared him, I was obliged to -cut the tendon of his leg, in self-defence." - -"Oh! you thrashed un, did you?" said the farmer, pulling off his coat; -"and you'll thrash me, will you? Now, let's see." - -"I insist upon nothing of this kind taking place," said General Tracy, -seeing Chandos quietly deposit his stick on the grass. "Rose, my love, -run by that gate, to the Plough and Harrow public-house. The landlord -is a constable. Tell him to come here. I intend to give this man into -charge. I recollect hearing before of this bull being a dangerous -animal, and of farmer Thorpe having been warned to take proper -precautions. Be quick, Rose; for I will punish this man if I live." - -"Oh, that's to be the way, is it?" said the rude farmer, in a tone not -less insolent than ever; "if folks can't fight without constables for -their bottle-holders, that's not my plan; but I can tell you one -thing, old Tracy--for I know you well enough--I'll have the law of you -for doing a mischief to my bull; and this fellow I'll thrash heartily -the first time I can get him without a constable to back him. So, good -day to you all, and be damned." - -With this just, eloquent, and courteous speech farmer Thorpe resumed -his coat, and returned to the side of his bull. While General Tracy -remarked dryly to the two young ladies, who had now joined him, "We -came out, my flowers, to see a specimen of the real English peasant, -and we have found one, though not a very favourable one, it must be -confessed. But now, what is to be done with the poor boy. If I could -but get him down to the house, we would send for old Andrew Woodyard, -the surgeon." - -"I'd rather go home to mother," said the boy; "she'll put my shoulder -all right, in a minute." - -"Your mother is no more capable of putting that shoulder right, than -she is of flying through the air on a broomstick," replied the -General. - -"I will carry him down, Sir," said Chandos; "I was going to catch the -coach; but I must put off my journey till to-morrow, I suppose; for the -poor lad must be attended to." - -He accordingly lifted him up off the grass, and was about to carry him -down to Northferry House, in his arms; but little Tim, though by the -grimaces he made it was evident he suffered much pain, declared he -would rather walk, saying, that it did not hurt him half so much as -being "lugged along by any one." Chandos, who knew something of the -habits of his people, exacted a solemn promise from him, that he would -not attempt to run away; and, in return, assured him that his mother -should be sent for instantly. With this little Tim seemed satisfied; -and as they walked along, the General entered into consultation with -his nieces and Chandos, as to what was best to be done with the boy, -on his arrival; for he suddenly remembered a very fierce and -intractable prejudice which his brother had against all -copper-coloured wanderers. "The boy might pass well enough," he said, -"for he's as fair (very nearly) as an Englishman; but if his mother -and all his anomalous kindred, are to come down and visit him, we -shall have brother Arthur dying of gout in the stomach, as sure as if -he ate two Cantalupe melons before going to bed." - -It was finally settled, however, on the suggestion of Chandos, that -little Tim should be taken down to the head-gardener's cottage, which -was at some distance from the house, and he himself promised to remain -there the night, till the injuries the boy had received could be -properly attended to. - -In the council of war, which ended in this determination, it must be -remarked that Rose Tracy took no part, though her sister Emily did. -Rose said not one word, but came a little behind the rest, and more -than once she looked at Chandos, with a long earnest gaze, then -dropped into silent thought. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - - -About two o'clock in the day, Chandos sat in the cottage, which was -destined to be his future abode for some time, with the gipsey-boy Tim -seated on a chair beside him. The old General had gone up to the house -to send off a servant to the village surgeon; and the two young ladies -had accompanied their uncle, promising to dispatch the housekeeper -immediately to aid Chandos in his task. The boy bore the pain, which -he undoubtedly suffered, exceedingly well. He neither winced nor -cried; but remained quite still in the chair, and only repeated, from -time to time, that he should like to go to his mother. Chandos soothed -and quieted him with great kindness, and was in the midst of a story, -which seemed completely to engage the little man's attention, when the -door suddenly opened; and a tall, thin old man entered, whose whole -dress and appearance, showed him at once to be an oddity. His head was -covered with what much better deserved the name of a tile, than that -which sometimes obtains it, in our good city of London. It was a hat -with enormous brims, and the smallest possible portion of crown, so -that it was almost self-evident that the organs of hope and -veneration, if the old gentleman had any, must be somewhat pressed -upon by the top of the shallow box into which he put them. From -underneath the shelter of this wide-spreading beaver, floated away a -thin wavy pigtail of white hair, bound with black ribbon, which, as -all things have their prejudices, had a decided leaning to his left -shoulder in preference to his right. He had on a coat of black, large, -easy, and wrinkled, but spotless and glossy, showing that its original -conception must have been vast, and that the disproportion between its -extent, and the meagre limbs it covered, was not occasioned by those -limbs having shrunk away from the garment, with which they were -endued. The breeches fitted better: and, indeed, in some parts must -have been positively tight; for a long line of snow-white cambric -purfled up, like the slashings of a Spanish sleeve, which appeared -between the top of the breeches and the remote silk waistcoat, showed -that the covering of his nether man maintained itself in position by -the grasp of the waistband round his loins. An Alderney cow can never -be considered perfect, unless the herd can hang his hat on her -haunch-bone, while he makes love to Molly, milking her; and the -haunch-bones of worthy Mr. Alexander Woodyard, Surgeon, &c. were as -favourable to the sustentation of his culottes, without the aid of -other suspenders. Waistcoat and breeches were both black; and so, -also, were the stockings and the shoes, of course. These shoes were -tied with a string, which was inharmonious; for the composition of the -whole man denoted buckles. Round his neck, without the slightest -appearance of collar, was wound tight, a snowy white handkerchief of -Indian muslin. In fact, with the exception of his face and hands, the -whole colouring of Sandy Woodyard, as the people improperly called -him, was either black or white. His face, though thin and sharp as a -ferret's, was somewhat rubicund. Indeed, if any blood ever got up -there, it could not well get out again, with that neckcloth tied round -his throat, like a tourniquet: and the hands themselves were also -reddish; but by no means fat, showing large blue veins, standing out, -like whipcord in a tangle. - -To gaze upon him, he was a very awful looking person; to hear him -talk, one would have supposed him an embodied storm; so fierce were -his denunciations, so brutal his objurgations. But he had several good -qualities, with a few bad ones. He was an exceedingly good surgeon, a -very learned man, and the most sincere man upon earth--except when he -was abusing a patient or a friend, to their face. Then, indeed, he -said a great deal that he did not mean; for he often told the former, -when refractory, that they would die and he hoped they would, when he -knew they would not, and would have given his right-hand to save them; -and, the latter, he not unfrequently called fools and blackguards, -where, if they had been the one or the other, they would not have been -his friends at all. - -When Mr. Alexander Woodyard entered the room, in the head-gardener's -cottage, he gazed, first at the boy, and then at Chandos, demanding, -in a most irate tone, "What the devil have I been sent here for?--Who -is ill?--What's the matter, that I should be disturbed in the very -midst of the dissection of a field-mouse in a state of torpidity?" - -"If you are the surgeon, Sir," replied Chandos, "I suppose it was to -see this little boy that you were disturbed. He has--" - -"Don't tell me what he has," replied Mr. Woodyard. "Do you suppose -I don't know what he has better than you. Boy, put out your -tongue.--Does your head ache?--Let me feel your pulse." - -The boy did not seem to comprehend him at all; neither put out his -tongue, nor his wrist, and gazed at the old man with big eyes, full of -terror. - -"There, don't be a fool, little man," said the surgeon, taking him by -the arm, and making him shrink with pain. "Oh, oh! that's it, is it? -So, you have luxated your shoulder. We'll soon put it in, my dear. -Don't be afraid! You are a brave boy, I dare say." - -"That he is," answered Chandos; "for it was in endeavouring to defend -General Tracy from a bull, which had knocked him down, that he got -tossed and hurt." - -"Plague light upon that old fool!" cried the uncourteous doctor; "he's -always getting himself, or some one else, into a scrape. It is just -two years ago I had to cut four holes in his leg, where he had been -bit by a mad dog, because he was as mad as the dog himself, and -insisted that the beast was quite sane, contrary to the opinion of the -whole village. When doggy bit his best friend, however, he became -convinced he was mad--though, if biting one's friends were a sign of -madness, we should have to cage the whole world. I had my revenge, -however, for I cut away deep enough--deep enough, till the old fool -writhed. He wouldn't roar, as I wished; but never a bullet went into -his old carcase, (nor ever will,) that made a larger hole than either -of the four that I made.--And now he has had to do with a mad bull! I -will answer for it, he went up and patted its head, and called it a -curly-pated old coxcomb--Didn't he, boy?" - -"No," replied little Tim, boldly, "he didn't. He knocked at farmer -Thorpe's big bull with his stick, when it ran after the ladies; and -the bull poked him down; for it did not get him on his horns, like it -did me." - -"That's a good boy--that's a good boy," replied the old man; "always -tell the truth, whoever says the contrary. Now, master what's your -name, we'll have his jacket off; for, though there seems but little of -it, still it may be in the way. You look strong enough, and can help, -I dare say; though I don't know who the devil you are--but mind, you -must do exactly what I tell you, neither more nor less. If you do, -I'll break your head, and not mend it. Put your arms round the boy's -waist." - -Chandos did as he was directed, after having taken the little fellow's -jacket off; and the worthy surgeon then proceeded to replace the -dislocated arm in the socket, an operation which required more -corporal strength than his spare frame seemed to promise. He effected -it skilfully and powerfully, however, giving the poor boy as little -pain as possible; but, nevertheless, making him cry out lustily. - -"Ay, that's right; roar!" cried the doctor. "That's the very best -thing you can do. It eases the diaphragm, my lad, and keeps the lungs -in play. I never saw any good come of a silent patient, who lets you -cut him up without saying a word. They all die; but your roarer is -sure to get well. There--there, it's in! Now, give me that bandage, my -man; we must keep it down tight, for the muscles have had an awful -wrench. It's all over, my dear--it's quite done, and you shall have a -shilling for bellowing so handsomely. You're a good little man for not -kicking me in the stomach, as a great lubber once did, who should have -known better. How do you feel now?" - -"Oh, quite comfortable since it went _snack_," answered the boy. - -The old gentleman laughed, saying, "Ay, '_snack_' is a pleasant sound -in a case of dislocation. You see it is when the round end of the -bone--;" and he was going on to explain to Tim and Chandos the whole -process and causes of going '_snack_,' which is very different, it -would seem, in the plural and singular number, when a voice was heard -without, exclaiming "Where's my boy?--What has happened to my boy?", -and the gipsey woman who had sat next to Chandos when he was at the -encampment in the lane rushed in, with her glittering black eyes -flashing like stars with excitement and agitation. "Where's my boy?" -she screamed again, before she had time to look around; and then, -seeing the little fellow in the chair, she exclaimed, "Oh, Tim, what -are they doing to you?" and was running forward to catch him to her -heart, when Mr. Woodyard waved her back with his left hand, while he -held the last fold of the bandage with his right. "Keep back, you -tawny baggage," he cried, "If you come near him till I've done, I'll -bruise you. Sit still, you little infernal bit of Egypt, or I'll -strangle you with the end of this thing. Hold him tight, young man, or -he'll have the joint out again, by--!" And the old gentleman, who had -been a naval surgeon in his day, added a very fierce nautical oath: -one of those which were unfortunately current in all mouths on board -ships of war in his youthful years. - -The gipsey woman stopped at once, and made a sign to the boy, who was -instantly as still as a ruin; but the old surgeon continued to abuse -her most atrociously, till he had finished bandaging the arm, calling -her every bad name that a fertile imagination and a copious vocabulary -could supply. It is wonderful, however, how quick is sometimes the -conception of character amongst the lower classes, especially those -who are subject to any kind of persecution. The poor woman stood -perfectly calm; a faint smile crossed her lip at the old man's -terrible abuse, as if a feeling of amusement at his affected violence -crossed the deeper emotions which filled her large black eyes with -tears. She said not a word in reply; she showed no sign of anger; and -when at length all was done, and, patting the boy's head with his -broad skinny hand, Mr. Woodyard said, in another voice, "There, you -little dog, you may go to your mammy now," she started forward, and -kissed the surgeon's hand--even before she embraced her child. She had -understood him in a moment. - -A short time was passed by mother and son in tenderness, wild and -strange, but striking; she kissed his eyes and his lips, and held him -first at a distance, then close to her heart; she put her hands upon -his curly head, and raised her look upwards, where hope and -thankfulness seek Heaven. Then she asked all that had happened; and -with simple prattle the boy told her how he had seen the bull attack -the old General, and had run to frighten it. And the woman laughed and -cried at her child's courage and his folly. But when he went on to -say--after relating how he had found himself flying in the air,--"Then -that man came up, and caught him by the tail, and whacked him till he -tumbled down," she turned to Chandos, and kissed his hand too. - -"But the best of it all, mammy," cried the boy, who entered into the -spirit of his own story, "was when farmer Thorpe came up, and bullied -the two men as they were looking at me; and how that one told him he -would whack him as he had whacked the bull, if he did not cut his -quids." - -"So farmer Thorpe bullied, did he?" cried the woman, "He's a tiger: -but snakes even bite tigers." And she added something in a low voice, -which sounded to Chandos's ear, "Let him look to his farm-yard." - -Certain it is that the next night passed distressfully to the poultry -of farmer Thorpe. When he looked in the morning, where many a turkey -had been fattening for Christmas, and capons and fowls strutted proud, -he found feathers but not fowls. The geese, indeed, were spared, -Heaven only knows why; but from the imperial black bubblyjock down to -Dame Partlet's youngest daughter, all the rest were gone. Yet there -was a large fierce dog in the yard, as fierce as his master or his -master's bull. There are, however, always in this world _moyens de -parvenir_; and the fierce dog was found to have made himself very -comfortable during the cold wintry night with feathers which must have -been plucked off his tender flock under his nose. What a picture of - - - "A faithless guardian of a charge too good!" - - -However, putting the morality of the thing out of the question, the -fact is curious, as the first recorded instance of a dog using a -feather-bed. - -The whole of the last paragraph is a huge parenthesis; and as it is -not easy to get back again after such an inordinate digression without -a jump or an hiatus, we will take the latter, and end the chapter -here. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - - -"There now, my good woman, you have hugged the boy enough," said Mr. -Woodyard; "you have kissed my hand, and the young man's; and the next -thing is to put the child to bed, and keep him there for the next -three days. I will see that he is taken care of; but mind you don't -give him any of your neighbours' hens, or hares, or partridges; not -because he or his stomach would care a straw whether they were stolen -or not; but because he must not eat animal food, however it is come -by." - -"Mayn't I take him up to my own people?" asked the woman, with an -anxious look. - -"Why! you lawless baggage, would you kill the child?" exclaimed the -surgeon, fiercely. "I tell you that he has been tossed by a bull, had -a severe shock to his whole system, has got his shoulder dislocated, -requires perfect quiet and careful attendance, cool food, and an -equable temperature, to prevent inflammation; and you talk of taking -him up to a set of jolly beggars, in rotten tents, to sleep upon the -ground, drink gin, and be stuffed with stolen poultry. You must be mad -to think of such a thing; or not his mother at all; which I have a -notion is the case, for he's as white as you are dingy." - -The woman looked at him gravely for a moment, and shook her head with -a gesture of deep feeling, saying, as she laid her hand upon her -heart, "It matters little what you think; I feel that I am his mother. -But will the gentlefolks let him bide here?" - -"Here come some of them, and they can answer for themselves," answered -the surgeon, pointing to the cottage window, before which General -Tracy and his eldest niece were passing, on their way to the door. - -"Well, Doctor, what is the state of the case?" asked the old officer, -as he came in; "how is the poor boy?" - -"A dislocated shoulder and a good shake," replied the surgeon, -abruptly; "only a proper punishment for a mite like that trying to -frighten a bull from goring an obstinate old man, who will go through -a field where an animal known to be vicious is roaming at large. I -hope, with all my heart, that some of your bones are broken." - -"Your hopes are vain, Doctor," said Walter Tracy: "all my bones are as -sound as ever they were: only a little soreness of my back, where the -cursed beast struck me." - -"Ay, you will have lumbar abscess," said the surgeon; "and a good -thing too. But the imp must be put to bed. Here is his yellow-faced -mother wants to carry him off to her filthy tents, where he would be -dead in three days." - -"That must not be," said General Tracy. "So you are his mother, my -good woman. I am glad you have come down, for I want to speak with -you." - -"Let the boy be put to bed first, before you begin gossiping," cried -Mr. Woodyard; "you can say all you have to say after. Here, young man, -take his things off; though there is not much to take. His trousers -and shoes are all that is needful; for as to a shirt, there is none to -dispose of." - -"Well, what of that?" cried the gipsey woman, sharply. "I suppose you -had not a shirt on when you were born." - -"No, indeed," answered Mr. Woodyard, gravely. "What you say is very -true. Naked we came into the world, and naked shall we go out of it; -so that it does not much matter whether we have shirts on while we are -here or not. Nevertheless, I will send him up something of the kind -from our school in the village; for I have somehow a notion, perhaps -erroneous, that he will be more comfortable when he has got some clean -calico about him." - -"I don't think it," replied his mother; "he never had such a thing in -his life." - -"Well, we'll try it, at all events," returned Mr. Woodyard. "But now -let us have quiet, and obey orders." - -The boy was accordingly undressed, and placed in the gardener's bed; -and then, while the surgeon looked him all over, to ascertain that -there was no other injury, General Tracy took the gipsey woman to the -door of the cottage, and spoke to her for several minutes in a low -tone. His words brought the tears into her eyes, and the nature of -them may be derived from her reply. - -"God bless you, gentleman," she said. "I dare say, to be rich, and -well brought up, and sleep in houses, and all that, is very nice when -one is accustomed to it, and better than our way of doing; but for my -part I should not half like it for myself. It is very kind of you, -however; and as to the boy, I suppose it is for his good. But I can't -part with him altogether. I must see him when I like. And if after he -has tried both, he likes our sort of life better than yours, he must -come away with me." - -"Let him give it a fair trial, though," said General Tracy. "He is a -brave little fellow, with a heart like a lion. I look upon it that in -reality he saved my life; for if the bull had not run at him, it would -have gored me as I lay; and therefore I wish to do for him what I can. -He shall have a fair education, if you leave him with me; and I will -at once settle upon him what will put him above want. Of course, I -never think of preventing you from seeing your own child; but you must -promise me not to try to persuade him that your wandering life is -better than that which he will have an opportunity of following. Deal -fairly with the boy; let him judge for himself, and pursue his own -inclinations." - -"That I will promise," answered the woman, in a decided tone; "for -what will make him happiest, will make me happiest." - -"Then go at once and talk to his father about it," continued General -Tracy; "let him promise the same thing, and all the rest will soon be -settled." - -"His father!" said the woman, with a sad and bitter laugh. "I wonder -where I should find his father? No, no, gentleman, there is no one to -be talked to about it but myself, Sally Stanley. He has never known -what it is to have a father, and his mother has been all to him." - -When, after a few more words, they went back into the cottage again, -they found Emily Tracy sitting by the boy's bedside, and holding his -hand in hers, with the little face turned sparkling up to her -beautiful countenance, while with a smile at his eagerness she told -him some childish story, to engage his attention during the time that -Mr. Woodyard was employed in examining his spine. The gipsey woman -gazed at the two for a moment in silence; then, creeping up to the -young lady's side, she knelt down, and, with her favourite mode of -expressing thankfulness, kissed her hand. "I am sorry I said what I -did this morning," she whispered. "May God avert it!" - -Emily started, and gazed on her earnestly. She had not suffered the -woman's angry words of the morning to weigh upon her mind in the -least. She had regarded them merely as a burst of impotent rage, and -never fancied that Sally Stanley had attached any importance to them -herself. But what she now said had a totally different effect. Emily -saw by her look and manner that the woman really believed in the dark -prophecy she had uttered; and there is something in strong conviction -which carries weight with it to others, as well as to those who feel -it. Emily was troubled, and for an instant did not reply. At length -she said, sweetly, "Never mind, my good woman. Forget it, as I shall -do. But do not give way to anger again towards those who have no -intention of offending you. I trust your little boy will soon be well; -and I am sure my uncle will reward him for so bravely seeking to -defend him at the risk of his own life." - -"God bless you, and him too!" said the gipsey woman. "There is no fear -of my boy. He will do well enough. I knew he would meet with some harm -when he went out in the morning; but I knew too that it would not be -death, and would end in his good. So I only warned him to be careful, -and let him go." - -All the woman's words were painful to Emily Tracy; for there is a germ -of superstition in every heart; and, in spite of good sense and every -effort of reason, a dull sort of apprehension sprang up in her bosom -regarding the bitter announcement which had been made as to her future -fate. Its very improbability--its want of all likelihood in her -station and position, seemed but to render more strange the woman's -evident belief that such an event as her marriage with a felon would -actually take place. That the very idea should enter into her mind had -something of the marvellous in it, and easily excited those feelings -of wonder which are strongly akin to superstition. - -Emily did not like to let her thoughts dwell upon the subject; and -after telling her tale out to the boy, and making some arrangements -with the housekeeper, who came down at the moment, so as to ensure -that the little fellow should have the attendance of some woman, she -thanked Chandos in graceful terms for the gallant assistance he had -rendered in the morning, and proposed to her uncle that they should -return home. - -Emily remained grave and thoughtful, however, during the whole day, -and Rose was also very much less gay than ordinary; so that when Mr. -Tracy, who had been out all the morning on business, returned towards -dinner time, he found the party who had left him a few hours before as -cheerful as a mountain stream, more dull than perhaps he had ever seen -it. - -Before dinner but little time was given for narrative, and at dinner a -guest was added to the party who has been mentioned incidentally once -before. This was the young clergyman of Northferry, a man of about -eight and twenty years of age, but who had been the incumbent of the -parish only three or four months. Mr. Fleming was always a welcome -visitor at Mr. Tracy's house, it must be said to all parties. It was -not indeed because he was Honourable as well as Reverend; but because -few men were better calculated to win regard as well as esteem. -Handsome in person, there was a sort of harmony in his calling, his -manners, and his appearance, which was wonderfully pleasing. Mild and -engaging in demeanour, he was cheerful, though not perhaps gay; never -checking mirth in others, though giving but moderate way to it -himself. Yet his conversation, though quiet and calm, was so rich with -the stores of thought, that it was brilliant without effort, and light -even in its seriousness. Perhaps no man was ever so well fitted for -the profession which he had chosen; but I must not be mistaken, I mean -well fitted both as regarded his own destiny and that of others. In -the first place he loved it, and in the next he estimated it justly. -He was an aristocrat by family and by conviction; and he regarded an -hierarchy in the church as the only means of maintaining order and -discipline therein, of stimulating to high exertion every member, and -checking every tendency to neglect or misconduct. He had not the -slightest touch of the democratic tendencies usually attributed to -what is called the low church, but yet he had neither pride with him -nor ambition. He was perfectly contented with a small rectory of four -hundred a-year, with a congregation generally poor, and no prospect -either of display or advancement. His private fortune was sufficient, -not large; but it was enough with his stipend to maintain him in the -rank in which he was born, and he asked no more. Had a bishopric been -offered to him, he would certainly have refused it. In the next place -he had little vanity, and detested eloquent sermons. He sought to -convince and instruct, and belaboured night and day to qualify himself -for those tasks; but his language was as simple as his mind. If a -figure would now and then find place, it was because it sprung -naturally from a rich imagination, and was so clear, so forcible, so -just, that, like the rest of his discourses, there was no mistaking in -the least what he advanced. He never tried to enlist the fancy, and -seldom to engage the feelings of his hearers on his side. The latter -he regarded as engines, to be used only on great occasions, in order -to carry convictions into active effect; and he spared them purposely, -feeling that he had within the power of rousing them when it might be -necessary, and could do so more surely by rousing them rarely. Then he -was a charitable man in the enlarged, but not the licentious sense of -the word. He had vast toleration for the opinions of others, though he -was firm and steadfast in the support of his own. Thus anger at false -views never even in the least degree came to diminish the efficacy of -his support of just ones. He fearlessly stated, fearlessly defended -his own principles, but never disputed, and was silent as soon as a -quibble or a jest took the place of argument. There was moreover a -truth, a sincerity, an uprightness in his whole dealings and his whole -demeanour, which had a powerful influence upon all who knew him. To -every man but the most vain it became a natural question--"If one so -vigorous in mind, so learned, and so wise, is thus deeply impressed -with the truth of opinions different to my own, is there not good -cause for re-examining the grounds of those I entertain?" And thus his -arguments obtained more fair consideration than vanity generally -allows to the views of those who oppose us. - -Even General Tracy, who differed with him profoundly, always listened -with respect, seldom indeed entered into discussion with him, and -never disputed. Not that he altogether feared the combat, for such was -not the case; nor that he was convinced entirely, for he still held -out on many points; but because he was thoroughly impressed with a -belief of his young friend's reasonable sincerity, and reverenced it. -Besides, General Tracy was a gentleman; and no gentleman ever, without -a worthy object, assails opinions which another is professionally -bound to sustain. - -Such was the guest then at Mr. Tracy's dinner table; and there, as -soon as the first sharp edge of appetite was taken off, the adventures -of the morning were once more spoken of, and General Tracy, in a -strain half serious, half playful, recounted the dangers which he and -his nieces had encountered. The young clergyman's eyes instantly -sought the face of Emily Tracy with a look of anxiety. He did not look -to Rose also, which was not altogether right perhaps; at all events, -not altogether equitable, for both had run the same risk. - -"Well," continued Walter Tracy, "Emily ran and Rose ran; but I thought -it beyond the dignity of my profession to run before a single enemy, -though he was defended by a horn-work--perhaps lumbago had to do with -it as well as dignity, if the truth must be told. But our worthy -friend soon applied a cataplasm to my lumbago more effectual than any -of Sandy Woodyard's; for in two minutes I was sprawling. Master Bull -then thought he might as well take room for a rush, and ran back five -or six steps to gore me the more vigorously; when suddenly a new -combatant appeared in the field, in the shape of a little urchin, not -so high as my hip, who made at the enemy with all sorts of shrieks and -screams, so that if the beast did not think it was the devil come to -my rescue, I did. But the poor boy fared ill for his pains; for just -as I was scrambling up, I saw something in the air, small and black, -with a great many legs and arms flying about in all directions, just -like a spider in a web between two cabbages; and down came the poor -child, with a fall which I thought must have dashed his brains out." - -"Good Heaven!" cried Mr. Tracy, "was he hurt? Was he not killed?" - -"Hurt, he certainly was," answered his brother; "and killed most -likely, both he and I would have been, but--as in the story of -Camaralzaman, which some heathen of the present day has changed into -Kummer al Zemaun, or some other horrible name, violating all the -associations of our childhood, the true temple of Cybele to the -heart--no sooner was one army disposed of than another appeared. Up -ran a man with a stick in his hand, a stout, tall, powerful country -fellow, in a fustian jacket; (Rose held down her head and smiled, -without any one remarking her;) and, seizing our friend the bull by -the tail, thrashed him for some five minutes in a most scientific -manner. He must have been used to belabouring bulls all his life, like -a Spanish _matador_; for nothing but long practice would have made him -so proficient in an art not very easy to exercise. Rose, my flower, -what are you laughing at?" - -"I think it was enough to make any one laugh," answered Rose, "to see -how foolish the representative of our nation looked while he was -receiving such a cudgelling. I was too frightened to laugh then, my -dear uncle; but here, by the side of this table, I can enjoy the joke -at my ease." - -"It was no joke then, indeed," said General Tracy; "for it was a -matter of life and death between the brave lad and the bull. He had no -resource in the end, however, but to hamstring him, which he also did -most scientifically; and I believe that more than one of us has to -thank him for being here at this moment. It turned out that the man -was your new gardener, Arthur; and we must really see what can be done -for him. As to the gallant little gipsey boy, I have taken care of him -myself, and will provide for him." - -This last announcement roused curiosity, and brought on explanations, -in the course of which a good deal of what has been already told was -detailed, with several other particulars which have not seemed -necessary to relate. - -"And did the woman really seem doubtful as to whether she should -accept your offer or not?" asked Mr. Tracy. - -"Yes, she did," replied his brother. "And I am not quite sure that she -was not in the right. It is a very moot point with me, brother Arthur, -whether civilization tends to the happiness of the individual, -whatever it may do for society in general. When I offered what I did, -I thought, not that I was doing the boy a favour, for a man never does -another a favour; but that I was showing my gratitude for his -self-devotion and the real service he had rendered me, when I proposed -to put him in a position which I myself from my prejudices valued; but -when I came to consider the woman's doubts, I began to inquire, and to -doubt also, whether he would be happier in the one state than the -other." - -"You proposed to give him a good education," said the young clergyman; -"and if you did so, he would assuredly be happier; for he would be -wiser and better." - -"And yet, 'Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise,'" replied -General Tracy. - -"Ignorance of evil, granted," answered Fleming. "But could that be -assured to him in the life he was likely to lead? Can it be assured to -any man in any course? I think not." - -"Perhaps not," answered Walter Tracy; "but yet I have many doubts, my -young friend, whether the amount of evils of any kind is greater or -less (to the individual) in a civilized or uncivilized state of -society. These gipsies, were it not their misfortune to be placed -amongst nations in a different condition to themselves, would be one -of the happiest races on the face of the earth. Nomadic from their -very origin, they would wander about hither and thither, feeding their -sheep, or their cattle, or their horses, and pilfering a little. I -dare say, from their neighbours, if they had any; but where the rights -of property are very ill defined, a little pilfering is not very evil -in its consequences; and with a thin population there is no -opportunity of carrying it on to a great extent. Besides, I believe, -that almost all the bad qualities of the gipsey proceed from his -position. His hand is against every man's, because every man's hand is -against him. He is a wanderer amongst settled tribes; a stern adherer -to his ancient forms, amongst a people whose only constancy is that of -a cat to the house in which it is kittened; a despiser of the -civilization which, as he has constant proof before his eyes, does not -make those who are blessed (or cursed) with it a bit more wise, merry, -or virtuous than himself. It is very natural, therefore, that he -should despise the institutions and dislike the men, amongst whom he -is so located only for a short time. For my part, I only think it -wonderful, that these good people do not commit more crimes than they -do; and that our purses and our lives are not taken, instead of our -poultry, and the lives of our ducks and geese. I begin almost to think -it a sin and a shame to withdraw that bold boy from his freedom -amongst hedges and ditches, to poke him into a dull, fusty school; and -to cut him off from those blessings, of which he has learned the value -and tasted the enjoyment." - -Mr. Fleming smiled. "If the mother were really doubtful," he said, "it -would be very easy for you, my dear Sir, to remedy the error you -regret. But I cannot help thinking, that for the sake of the jest, you -are taking a much narrower view of such questions than your mind would -otherwise lead you to. You seem, General, to consider the individual -as only born for the individual. But let me ask you, Is he not placed -here for much more than that? I would not push my notion, on the -subject to any of the extreme lengths which some of the gentlemen who -have called themselves philosophers have done. I do not look upon man -merely as a part of a great machine, one of the wheels or pulleys, or -cogs, of the instrument called society, and that he is bound to -regulate all his thoughts, feelings, and actions by one precise rule, -for the benefit of the country in which he lives, or even for the more -extended fellowship called society. There is a certain degree of -individual liberty, surely, due to all men; and, to a certain point, -they have a right to consult their own happiness, even by indulging -their whims and caprices, provided they are not detrimental to others. -The Spartan code and the Prussian system to me both equally tending to -take from man many of his highest qualities and rights; but still, to -a certain degree, man is bound to his fellow-man, as well as to God. I -say, _as well as to God_, because I know that there are some persons -who may not see that the one duty is a consequence of the other. But I -fear I am preaching out of the pulpit," he continued, with a laugh; -"and I must be forgiven as for an infirmity. The habit of preaching, I -fear, is a very encroaching one, which, with the authority that the -calling of teacher gives, renders many of us somewhat domineering in -society." - -"No one can say that of you," answered Walter Tracy, "But I must -defend myself. I was certainly speaking of the boy's individual -happiness, not of his duty to society." - -"Can the two be separated?" asked Horace Fleming, in a thoughtful -tone. "I have always myself considered that the greatest amount of -happiness on earth, is only to be obtained by the performance of all -duties. I should be sorry to part with that conviction." - -"I doubt not it is just," answered General Tracy gravely; "and I would -not seek to take it from you even if I did; for it is a pleasant one, -and a most useful one. But I will only remark in passing, that the -most difficult of all points in ethics, is to define what duties are. -So many of those things that we call duties are but conventional -opinions, that I fear a rigid scrutator of the world's code of -obligations would soon strip moral philosophy very bare. As to society -itself, its rules are very much like the common law of England; a code -of maxims accumulated during centuries, by different races, and under -different circumstances, often contradictory, often absurd, -continually cruel, frequently unjust and iniquitous in practice, even -when theoretically right, and yet cried up by those who gain by them -as the perfection of human wisdom, to which all men must submit their -acts, and most men do submit their reason. Of one thing I am very -certain, that the aims and objects of society at present, the -tendencies which it encourages, and the rewards which it holds out, -are all opposed most strongly not only to that end which it professes -to seek, but to that religion the excellence of which you are not one -to deny--nor I either, be it remarked. Its tendencies, I contend, are -anything but 'to produce the greatest amount of good to the greatest -number,' which philosophers declare to be its object; its result is -anything but to produce 'peace and goodwill amongst men,' which is the -grand purpose of the Christian religion." - -Mr. Fleming was silent; for he felt that, though he differed in some -degree, there was a certain amount of truth in the assertion. But Mr. -Tracy exclaimed, "I do not understand you, Walter. In what respect -does society so terribly fail?" - -"In a thousand," answered General Tracy, abruptly. - -"But an instance, but an instance," said his brother. - -"Look around," replied the other; "do you not see, wherever you turn, -even in this very land of ours, which is not the worst country in the -world, that wealth gives undue power? that it is not the man who -labours in any trade who gains the reward of industry? that the -produce of labour is not fairly divided between the labourer and the -wealthy man who employs him? that the laws which regulate that -division are framed by the wealthy? and that an inordinate authority -has fallen into the hands of riches, which keeps the poor man from his -rights, drowns his voice in the senate, frustrates his efforts in the -market, defeats his resistance to oppression, whether it take a lawful -or unlawful form?" - -"Pooh, pooh, Walter," replied Mr. Tracy; "this is all an affair of -legislation and political economy, and has nothing to do with -society." - -"All laws spring from the state of society in which they are formed, -brother," replied Walter Tracy; "and political economy is but the -theory of certain dealings between man and man. But that society must -be a fearful and iniquitous conspiracy where a few are rolling in -riches, living in luxury, and rioting in idle wantonness, upon the -produce of other men's labour who are suffering all the ills of -extreme poverty, if not actually perishing for want. It is a gross and -terrible anomaly, brother Arthur, to see the great mass of a people -nearly destitute; to see many even dying of starvation; to see the -honest and the industrious man unable, by the devotion of his whole -time, and the exertion of all his energies, to obtain sufficient food -for his family;--and yet to see enormous wealth, which, if the fruits -of labour were fairly divided, would feed whole provinces of artizans, -accumulating in the hands of a few men supported entirely by the -labour of others. It is, I say, a gross and terrible anomaly; and it -will bring its curse sooner or later." - -"But you surely would not advocate an agrarian law," said Mr. Fleming. -"That chimera has been slain a thousand times." - -"Far from it!" exclaimed the old officer. "I would touch none of what -are called the rights of property; but I would drive to the winds that -most absurd of all false pretences, invented by the rich for the -purpose of oppressing the poor; namely, that it is wrong and dangerous -to interfere between master and workman. I contend, that instead of -wrong and dangerous, it is right and safe; it is just and necessary. -It is right to defend the weak against the strong; it is safe to -ensure that despair does not give overwhelming vigour to the weak. But -the question is not, what I would do. I was asked for an instance of -the evils of the society in which we live. I have given you one, -Arthur; but if that does not suit you, I could give a thousand others. -I could show how that society, of which you are so fond, is wicked and -iniquitous in every different direction, towards the rich as well as -the poor; how it encourages vice and depresses virtue; how it leagues -with crime and scouts honesty. I could point to the same course -pursued towards man, and more especially towards woman." - -"Let us run away, dear uncle," cried Rose, "before we are brought upon -the carpet. I am of an excessively rebellious disposition, as you well -know; and I am afraid if I hear any more of such doctrines, I shall -revolt against the powers that be." - -"The revolt of the roses!" cried her uncle, laughing; and very glad to -change the subject, though it was a hobby. "Heaven forbid such a -catastrophe amongst the flowers! But who would you revolt against, my -Rose? Against the gardener, eh?" and he looked shrewdly from her to -Emily, who smiled also. Rose coloured more than the occasion seemed to -warrant; but Mr. Tracy, who was not in the secret of the gipsey's -prophecy, joined in with high praises of his new gardener's science -and taste. - -"He is a stout, good-looking, courageous fellow, as ever lived," said -General Tracy. "Pray, where did you pick him up, Arthur? He is not -from this part of the country, I should imagine, by his tone and -manners; for we are not the most polished, either in demeanour or -language." - -"He came to apply this morning," answered Mr. Tracy; "and brought high -testimonials both of skill and character, from Roberts, the steward of -Sir Harry Winslow, who is dead, you know. I suppose he has served over -at Elmsly Park, though I never thought of inquiring; for I was so much -pleased with him, in every respect, that I engaged him at once." - -"Upon my word, things are going on very favourably, Rose," whispered -General Tracy to his niece, in good-humoured malice. "Few sons-in-law -are received with such prepossessions." But he suddenly perceived that -Rose's fair face bore a look of much distress, and stopped at once in -his career of raillery, though not without some surprise. - -A pause ensued, only interrupted by Mr. Tracy drinking wine with the -young clergyman, and a few quiet words between Fleming and Emily; and -then Rose Tracy asked, with a sort of effort, "How long has Sir Harry -Winslow been dead, papa?" - -"I only heard of it yesterday," replied Mr. Tracy. "The funeral is to -take place the day after to-morrow, I hear." - -"He was a very singular man, was he not?" inquired the young lady. - -"Very," answered her father, laconically; "and by no means a good one. -I knew little of him, never having met him but twice, and then on -county business. But his haughtiness was insufferable, and his manners -like ice." - -"Perhaps," said Mr. Fleming, "he knew that he was not liked or -respected. For I have often remarked that men who have placed -themselves in a position which prevents others from desiring their -society, affect to reject that which they cannot obtain." - -"The fox and the grapes," said Emily, with a smile. - -"As old as Ćsop!" remarked her uncle; and there the conversation on -that head dropped. Soon after, the dinner came to an end, and the -whole party returned to the drawing-room. Mr. Fleming asked Emily to -sing, and seemed delighted with the sound of her voice. General Tracy -sat beside Rose and teazed her; but not about the gardener any more. -And Rose, after having been very thoughtful for some time, suddenly -resumed all her good spirits, sung with her sister, laughed with her -uncle, played a game at chess with her father, and was beat with -perfect good humour. But on the following morning when General Tracy -asked her, before breakfast, to go down with him to the cottage to see -the gipsey boy, she at first made some objection. They were alone. "My -dear Rose," said her uncle, "this is nonsense. You do not suppose for -one moment, that though I might joke you on that silly woman's -prophecy, I could think it would have the least effect upon your -mind." - -"Oh dear, no!" answered Rose, "I am not so foolish as that, dear -uncle; and if it will give you any pleasure, I will go. But the -gardener has nothing to do with it," she added with a gay smile; "for -I happen to know he is not there, and does not take possession for -some days. My maid told me so this morning, without my asking any -questions; so your wicked smile has no point:" and away they went to -the cottage. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - - -A fine, tall, broad-fronted house, massy in architecture, and -placed upon a commanding height, in a beautiful park, had all the -window-shutters closed along the principal façade, though a number of -people going in and coming out showed that it was not empty. There was -no attempt at decoration to be seen in the building. All was plain, -solid, and severe. Some dark pines on either hand harmonized with the -sternness of the mansion; and the brown oaks and beeches behind -carried off the lines to the wavy hills above. Everything was neat and -in good order around; the trees carefully confined to their exact -proportions near the house, the lawns close mowed, the gravel walks -free from the least intrusive weed. The gardens, with their long lines -of green and hot houses, showed care and expense; and from a distance -one would have supposed that the whole open ground of the park had -been lately subject to the scythe, so smooth and trim did everything -look. - -Within was death. - -In the state drawing-room, with crimson curtains sweeping down, and -panelling of white and gold, upon a rich Axminster carpet, and -surrounded by furniture of the most gorgeous kind, stood the dull -trestles, bearing the moral of all--the coffin and the pall: splendour -and ostentation and luxury without; death and foulness and corruption -within. It was a still homily. - -The library adjoining was crowded with gentlemen in black--they called -it mourning--and they were eating and drinking cake and wine. Why -should they not?--They would have done the same at a wedding. A little -beautiful spaniel stood upon his hind legs to one of the mourners for -a bit of cake. It was thrown to him; the dog caught it, and the -_mourners_ laughed. It was all very well. - -Suddenly, however, they put on graver faces. Heaven! what a machine of -falsehood is the face! The tongue may lie now and then--the face lies -every minute. There was a little bustle at the door, and several of -those near made way, speaking a few words to a young gentleman who -entered, clothed, like the rest, in black, but with mourning written -on his face. Where have we seen that face before? Is it Chandos? -Surely it is. But yet how different is the air and manner; with what -grave, sad dignity he passes on towards the spot at the other side of -the room where Roberts, the steward, is standing, unconscious of his -entrance! And who is that who stops him now, and shakes hands with him -warmly, yet with a timid, half-averted eye--that pale young man with -the waving fair hair around his forehead? Hark! Chandos answers him. -"Well, quite well, Faber, I thank you. I have not been far distant; -but I must speak to Roberts for a moment, and then," he added, slowly -and solemnly, "I must go into the next room." - -"You had better not, Sir," said Mr. Faber, the late Sir Harry -Winslow's secretary, speaking in a low, imploring tone; "indeed you -had better not." - -"Do not be afraid, Faber," replied Chandos, "I have more command over -myself now. I was too impetuous then. I was rash and hasty. Now I am -calm; and nothing on earth would provoke me again to say one angry -word. I shall ever be glad to hear of you, Faber; and you must write -to me. Address your letters to the care of Roberts; he will be able to -forward them." - -He was then moving on; but the young man detained him by the hand, -saying, in a whisper, "Oh, think better of it, Chandos. Be reconciled -to him." - -"That may be whenever he seeks reconciliation," answered Chandos; "but -it will make no difference in my purposes. I will never be his -dependent, Faber; for I know well what it is to be so." - -Thus saying, he turned away, and spoke a few words to the steward; -after which, with a slow but steady step, he walked towards the door -leading to the great drawing-room, opened it, and passed through. Many -an eye watched him till the door was closed; and then the funeral -guests murmured together, talking over his character and history. In -the meantime he advanced through the drawing-room, and stood by the -coffin of his father. Then slowly inclining his head to two men who -stood at the opposite door, he bade them leave him for a moment. They -instantly obeyed; and Chandos knelt down and prayed, with one hand -resting on the pall. In a minute or two he heard a step coming, and -rose; but did not quit the room, remaining by the side of the coffin, -with his tall head bowed down, and a tear in his eyes. The next -instant the opposite door opened quickly and sharply, and a man of two -or three and thirty entered, bearing a strong family likeness to him -who already stood there, but shorter, stouter, and less graceful. -Though the features were like those of Chandos, yet there was a great -difference of expression--the fierce, keen, eager eye, with its small, -contracted pupil, the firm set teeth, and the curl at the corner of -the mouth, all gave a look of bitterness and irritability from which -the face of the other was quite free. - -The moment the new comer's eyes rested on Chandos, the habitual -expression grew more intense, deepening into malevolence, and he -exclaimed, "You here, Sir!" - -"Yes, I am, Sir William Winslow," answered the younger man. "You did -not surely expect me to be absent from my father's funeral!" - -"One never knows what to expect from you or of you," replied his -brother. "I doubt not, you have really come for the purpose of -insulting me again." - -"Far from it," replied Chandos, calmly. "I came to pay the last duty -to my parent; to insult no one. It is but for a few hours that we -shall be together, Sir William: let us for that time forget everything -but that we are the sons of the same father and mother; and by the -side of this coffin lay aside, at least for the time, all feelings of -animosity." - -"Very well for you to talk of forgetting," answered Sir William -Winslow, bitterly. "I do not forget so easily, Sir. The sons of the -same father and mother!--Well, it is so, and strange, too." - -"Hush! hush!" cried Chandos, waving his hand with an indignant look; -and, not knowing what would be uttered next, he turned quickly away, -and left the room. - -"Oh, he runs," said Sir William Winslow, whose face was flushed, and -his brow knit. "But he shall hear more of my mind before he goes. He -said before them all that he would never consent to be dependent on -one who was a tyrant in everything--to my servants--even to my dogs. -Was that not an insult?--I will make him eat those words as soon as -the funeral is over, or he shall learn that I can and will exercise -the power my father left me to the uttermost. It was the wisest thing -he ever did to enable me to tame this proud spirit. Oh, I will bring -it down!--Sons of the same father and mother! On my life, if it were -not for the likeness, I should think he was a changeling. But he is -like--very like; and like my mother, too. It is from her that he takes -that obstinate spirit which he thinks so fine, and calls resolution." - -As he thus thought, his eyes fell upon the coffin; and he felt a -little ashamed. There is a still, calm power in the presence of the -dead which rebukes wrath; and Sir William Winslow looked down upon the -pall, and thought of what was beneath with feelings that he did not -like to indulge, but could not altogether conquer. He was spared a -struggle with them, however; for a minute had hardly passed after -Chandos had left him, when a servant came in, and advanced to whisper -a word in his master's ear. - -"Well, I am ready," replied Sir William, "quite ready. Where are all -the carriages? I do not see them." - -"They have been taken into the back court," said the man. - -"Well, then, I am quite ready," repeated the baronet, and retired, but -not by the door which led to the room where the guests were assembled. - -Half an hour passed in the gloomy preparations for the funeral march. -The callous assistants of the undertaker went about their task with -the usual studied gravity of aspect, and, at heart, the cold -indifference of habit to all the fearful realities which lay hid under -the pageantry which their own hands had prepared out of plumes and -tinsel, and velvet and silk. Then came the display of hearse and mutes -and plume-bearers, and the long line of carriages following with the -mourners, who were only in the mercenary point better than the hired -mourners of more ancient days. And the people of the village came out -to stare at the fine sight; and amongst the young, some vague -indefinite notion of there being something solemn and awful under all -that decoration might prevail; but with the great multitude it was but -a stage-procession. - -None thought of what it is to lay the flesh of man amongst the worms, -when the spirit has winged its flight away where no man knoweth. - -To one person, indeed, amongst those who were carried along after the -corpse, the whole was full of awe. He knew that his father had lived -as if the world were all: he knew not if he had died in the hope of -another; and the lessons early implanted in his heart by a mother's -voice, made that consideration a terrible one for him. Then, too, the -gaping crowd was painful to him. And oh, what he felt when the little -village boys ran along laughing and pointing by the side of the -funeral train! - -They reached the gates of the churchyard, which was wide and well -tenanted; and there the coffin had to be taken out, and Chandos stood -side by side with his brother. Neither spoke to, neither looked at, -the other. It was a terrible thing to behold that want of sympathy -between two so nearly allied at the funeral of a father; but the eye -that most marked it, saw that the one was full of deep and sorrowful -thoughts, the other of fierce and angry passions. - -The moment after, rose upon the air, pronounced by the powerful voice -of the village curate, those words of bright but awful hope, "I am the -resurrection and the life, saith the Lord, he that believeth in me, -though he were dead, yet shall he live, and whosoever liveth and -believeth in me, shall never die." That solemn and impressive service, -the most beautiful and appropriate, the most elevating, yet the most -subduing that ever was composed--the burial office of the English -church--proceeded; and Chandos Winslow lost himself completely in the -ideas that it awakened. But little manifested were many of those -ideas, it is true; but they were only on that account the more -absorbing; and when the words, "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust -to dust; in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal -life," sounded in his ears, a shudder passed over him as he asked -himself--"Had he such a hope?" - -Most different were the feelings of the man who stood by his side. The -customs of the world, the habits of good society put a restraint upon -him; but, with a strange perversion of the true meaning of the words -he heard, and a false application of them to his own circumstances, he -fancied that he was virtuous and religious when he refrained, even -there, from venting his anger in any shape upon its object; and heard -the sentences of the Psalmist, as a. sort of laudation of his own -forbearance. When the clergyman read aloud: "I will keep my mouth as -it were with a bridle, while the ungodly is in my sight," he fancied -himself a second David, and reserved his wrath for the time to come. - -At length all was over; the dull shovelsfull of earth rattled upon the -coffin; the last "Amen" was said; and the mourners took their way back -towards the carriages, leaving the sexton to finish his work. But when -Sir William Winslow had entered the coach with two other gentlemen, -and the servant was about to shut the door, he put down his head, and -asked in a low but fierce voice, "Where is my brother? Where is Mr. -Chandos Winslow?" - -"He went away, Sir William, a minute ago," replied the servant. "He -took the other way on foot." - -Sir William Winslow cast himself back in the seat, and set his teeth -hard; but he did not utter a word to any one, till he reached Elmsly -Park. His demeanour, however, was courteous to those few persons who -were on sufficiently intimate terms to remain for a few minutes after -his return; and to one of them he even said a few words upon the -absence of his "strange brother." His was the tone of an injured -man; but the gentleman to whom he spoke was not without plain, -straightforward good sense; and his only reply was, "Some allowance -must be made, Sir William, for your brother's modification at finding -that your father has left him nothing of all his large fortune; not -even the portion which fell to his mother, on the death of her uncle." - -"Not, Sir, when my father desired me in his will to provide for him -properly," said Sir William Winslow. - -"Why, I don't know," answered the other in a careless tone. "No man -likes to be dependent, or to owe to favour that which he thinks he -might claim of right. I have heard, too, that you and Mr. Winslow have -not been on good terms for the last four or five years; but nobody can -judge of such matters but the parties concerned. I must take my leave, -however; for I see my carriage, and I have far to go." - -Sir William Winslow made a stiff how, and the other departed. - -"Now send Roberts to me," said the heir of immense wealth, as soon as -every one of his own rank was gone, speaking of his father's steward -and law-agent, as if he had been a horse-boy in his stable. But the -footman to whom he spoke informed him that Mr. Roberts was not in the -house. Sir William Winslow fretted himself for half-an-hour, when at -length it was announced that the steward had arrived. He entered with -his usual calm, deliberate air; and was advancing towards the table at -which the baronet sat, when the latter addressed him sharply, saying, -"I told you, Mr. Roberts, that I should require to speak with you -immediately after the funeral." - -"I have come, Sir William," replied the other, calmly, "as soon as -important business, which could not be delayed, would permit me; and I -had hoped to be here by the time most convenient to you. I did not -know that the gentlemen who returned with you would go so soon." - -"You have kept me half-an-hour waiting, Sir," replied Sir William; -"and I do not like to be kept waiting." - -"I am sorry that it so occurred," answered the steward. "May I ask -your commands?" - -"In the first place, I wish to know, where is my brother Chandos?" -said the baronet, "I saw him speaking to you in the churchyard." - -"He did, Sir," replied Roberts, "and he has since been at my house. -But where he now is I cannot tell you." - -"Oh, he has been arranging all his affairs with you, I suppose," said -Sir William Winslow, with a sneer; "and, I suppose, hearing from you -of my father being supposed to have made another will." - -"No, Sir William," replied the steward, perfectly undisturbed. "He did -arrange some affairs with me; gave me power to receive the dividend -upon the small sum in the funds, left him by Mrs. Grant, amounting to -one hundred and sixty-two pounds ten, per annum; and directed me what -to do with the books and furniture, left him by your father. But I did -not judge it expedient to tell him at present, that I know Sir Harry -did once make another will; because, as you say he burnt it -afterwards, I imagined such information might only increase his -disappointment, or excite hopes never likely to be realized." - -"You did right," answered the baronet. "I saw my father burn it with -my own eyes; and I desire that you will not mention the subject to him -at all. It is my intention to let him bite at the bridle a little; and -then, when his spirit is tamed, do for him what my father wished me to -do. Have you any means of communicating with him?" - -But Mr. Roberts was a methodical man; and he answered things in order. -"In regard to mentioning the subject of the later will, Sir William," -he said, "I will take advice. I am placed in a peculiar position, Sir: -as your agent, I have a duty to perform to you; but as an honest man, -I have also duties to perform. I know that a will five years posterior -to that which has been opened, was duly executed by your father. I -think you are mistaken in supposing it was burnt by him, and--." - -"By him!" cried the baronet, catching at his words, "do you mean to -insinuate that I burnt it?" - -"Far from it, Sir William," was the reply of the steward. "I am sure -you are quite incapable of such an act; and if I had just cause to -believe such a thing, either you or I would not be here now. But, as I -have said, my position is a peculiar one: and I would rather leave the -decision of how I ought to act to others." - -"You have heard my orders, Sir; and you are aware of what must be the -consequence of your hesitating to obey them," rejoined the baronet, -nodding his head significantly. - -"Perfectly, Sir William," answered Mr. Roberts; "and that is a subject -on which I wish to speak. When I gave up practice as an attorney, and -undertook the office of steward or agent to your late father, I would -only consent to do so under an indenture which insured me three months -clear notice of the termination of my engagement with him and his -heirs, &c.; during which three months I was to continue in the full -exercises of all the functions specified in the document of which I -beg leave to hand you a copy. This I did require for the safety of -myself and of those parties with whom I might enter into engagements -regarding the letting of various farms, and other matters which a new -agent might think fit to overset, unless I had the power of completing -legally any contracts to which your father might have consented, -though in an informal manner. Your father assented, and had, I -believe, no cause to regret having done so; as, without distressing -the tenantry, the rental has been raised twenty-seven per cent, within -the last fifteen years. Your father was pleased, Sir William, to treat -me in a different manner from that which you have thought fit to use -within the last week; and I therefore must beg leave to give you -notice, that at the termination of three months I shall cease to be -your agent. The indenture requires a written notice on either part; -and therefore I shall have the honour of enclosing one this -afternoon." - -Sir William Winslow had listened, in silent astonishment, to his -steward's words, and the first feeling was undoubtedly rage; but Mr. -Roberts was sufficiently long-winded to allow reflection to come in, -though not entirely to let anger go out. The baronet walked to the -window, and looked out into the park. Had Mr. Roberts been in the -park, he would have seen the muscles of his face working with passion; -but when Sir William, after a silence of two or three minutes, turned -round again, the expression was calm, though very grave. - -"Do not send in the notice," he said; "take another week to consider -of it, Roberts. I have had a good deal to irritate me, a good deal to -excite me. I am, I know, a passionate and irritable man; but--. There, -let us say no more of it at present, Roberts. We will both think -better of many things." - -It is wonderful how often men imagine that by acknowledging they are -irritable, they justify all that irritation prompts. It affords to the -male part of the sex the same universal excuse that nervousness does -to so many women. I am quite sure that many a lady who finds her way -into Doctors' Commons, fancies she broke the seventh commandment from -pure nervousness. - -Mr. Roberts was not at all satisfied that Sir William Winslow's -irritability would ever take a less unpleasant form; but nevertheless, -without reply, he bowed and withdrew. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - - -Our variable skies had cast off their wintry hue, and assumed almost -the aspect of summer. Cloud and storm had passed away. Sleet and rain -no longer beat in the face of the traveller; and though November was -growing old, yet the melancholy month showed himself much more mild -and placable in his age than in his youth: there was a bright, warm -smile in the sky, and the sun towards midday was actually hot. There -was a great deal of activity and bustle in the gardens of Mr. Tracy. -The sage old folks in the neighbourhood remarked, that a new broom -swept clean; and the head-gardener was certainly seen from day-break -till sunset in every part of the extensive grounds, directing the -labours of the men under him, and preparing everything against the -wintry months that were coming. Mr. Tracy was delighted. For the first -time he saw all his own plans proceeding rapidly and energetically; -for the gardener, with more sound tact than gardeners usually have, -applied himself to execute, alone, what his master proposed or -suggested, but took care it should be executed well, and as rapidly as -possible. - -A new spirit seemed to come into the whole house with the new -gardener. Everybody, but one, although it was certainly an -unpropitious season of the year, seemed to be seized with the mania of -gardening. Old General Tracy himself, after having been confined for -four or five days to his room, by the consequences of his intimacy -with farmer Thorp's bull, which he had at first neglected, but was -afterwards compelled to remember, might be seen with a spade in his -hand delving with the rest. Mr. Tracy and Emily were constantly here -and there in the grounds, conversing with the head-gardener, and -laying out plans for immediate or future execution; and the only one -who, like the warm beams of summer, seemed to abandon the garden as -winter approached, was Mr. Tracy's youngest daughter Rose, whose -visits were confined to the morning and the evening, when a task, to -which she had accustomed herself from her childhood, and which she had -no excuse for neglecting now, called her down to the end of what was -called "the ladies' walk." This task was, indeed, a somewhat childish -one; namely, to feed a number of beautiful gold and silver fishes -collected in a large marble basin, and sheltered from snow and frost -by a not very bad imitation of a Greek temple. - -There is a very mistaken notion current, that fish are not -overburdened with plain common sense. We have too few opportunities of -observing them to judge; but Rose's gold and silver fish certainly -displayed considerable discrimination. One would have thought that -they knew the sound of her beautiful little feet; only fish have got -no ears. However, as her step approached, they were sure to swim in -multitudes towards her, jostling their scaly sides against each other, -and evidently looking up with interest and pleasure. They did not do -the same to any one else. They came indeed, but came more slowly, if -Emily approached; and hovered at a timid distance from the side if -anything in a male garb was seen. - -Two or three times, whilst standing by the side of the basin, Rose saw -the head-gardener pass by; but he took no further notice of her, than -merely by raising his hat, with a bow, which might have suited a -drawing-room as well as a garden. - -Rose had become very thoughtful--not at all times--for when she was -with the rest of the family, she was as gay as ever; but when she was -in her own room with a book in her hand, the book would often rest -upon her knee unread; and her eyes would gaze out of the window upon -the far prospect, while the mind was very busy with things within -itself. There was something that puzzled Rose Tracy sadly. What -could she be thinking of? Strange to say, Rose was thinking of the -head-gardener; yet she never mentioned his name, even when all the -rest were praising him, marvelling at his taste, at his information, -at his manners for a man in that rank of life. She never went near the -places where he was most likely to be found; and a fortnight passed -ere she exchanged a single word with him. - -At length, one morning, a short conversation, of which it may be -necessary to transcribe only a few sentences, took place at breakfast -between her father and her uncle; which worked a great change in Rose -Tracy. - -"It certainly is the most extraordinary will that ever was made," said -Mr. Tracy; "and so unjust, that I cannot think it will be maintained -in law. He leaves his whole property to his eldest son, towards whom -he showed nothing but coldness and dislike for many years, and leaves -the second actually nothing but a mere recommendation to his brother's -favour. Now, the whole Elmsly property, to the amount of at least -seventeen thousand a-year, came to him in right of Lady Jane; and it -is generally the custom for the mother's property to descend to the -younger children." - -"At all events, they should have a fair share of it," answered old -Walter Tracy. "For my part, I would do away with the law of -primogeniture altogether. It is a barbarous and unnatural law. But -perhaps Sir Harry, in his eccentric way, left verbal directions with -his eldest son." - -"Not at all, not at all," answered Mr. Tracy. "I understand from -Lawrence Graves, who is their near relation, that Sir William declares -he has no instructions whatever but those contained in the will. And, -as Mr. Winslow and his brother have not been upon good terms for some -years, the young gentleman refuses absolutely to receive any thing -from him whatever." - -"Then, in Heaven's name! what will become of him," exclaimed Emily, -"if he is left penniless?" - -"He might have done well enough in many professions," said the -General, "if this had occurred earlier. But he is three or four and -twenty now; too old for the army; and both the church and the bar are -sad slow professions; requiring a fortune to be spent before a -pittance can be gained." - -"What will become of him no one knows," rejoined Mr. Tracy. "But it -seems, he set out for London, with a bold heart, declaring he would -carve his way for himself; and be dependent upon no man." - -"A fine bold fellow--I like him!" cried the General. "Lily, my love, -another cup of coffee, and more cream, or I will disinherit you." - -When breakfast was over, Rose ran up to her own room, locked the door, -and sat down and cried. "Then this was the cause," she murmured: "and -he must think me unkind and mean." - -About two o'clock that day, Rose went out in a little park phćton, -with a small postillion upon the near blood-horse. She had several -things to do in the neighbouring village, about two miles distant: -some shops to visit; a girls' school to look into; and one or two -other matters of lady life. Horace Fleming, too, came up and talked to -her for a few minutes, standing by the side of the phćton. - -The horses, one and both, agreed that it was very tiresome to be kept -standing so long in the streets of a dull little place like that. As -soon as they were suffered to go on, they dashed away in very gay -style towards their home; but Rose was not likely to alarm herself at -a little rapid motion, and the fastest trot they could go did not at -all disturb her. Horses, however, when they are going homeward, and -get very eager, are sometimes more nervous than their drivers or -riders. All went well, then, through the first mile of country roads, -and narrow lanes; but about a quarter of a mile further, a man very -like farmer Thorpe--Rose did not see distinctly, but she thought it -was he--pushed his way through the trees, on the top of the low bank, -just before the horses. Both shied violently to the near side; the -small postillion was pitched out of the saddle into the hedge; and on -the two beasts dashed, no longer at a trot, but a gallop, with the -rein floating loose. Rose Tracy did not scream; but she held fast by -the side of the phćton, and shut her eyes. It was all very wrong, but -very natural, for a woman who knew that there were three turns on the -road before the house could be reached, and there, a pair of iron -gates, generally closed. She did not wish to see what her brains were -going to be dashed out against, till it was done, nor to fly further -when the phćton overset than necessary; and therefore, she did as I -have said. But after whirling on for two or three minutes, turning -sharp round one corner, and bounding over a large stone; she felt a -sudden check, which threw her on her knees into the bottom of the -phćton, and heard a voice cry, "So ho! stand, boy, stand! so ho! -quiet, quiet!" and opening her eyes, she saw the horses plunging a -little and endeavouring to rear, in the strong grasp of the -head-gardener, who held them tight by the bridles, and strove to -soothe them. One of the under-gardeners was scrambling over the -palings of her father's grounds, where the other had passed before; -and in a minute the two fiery bays were secured and quieted. - -"I hope you are not much hurt or terrified, Miss Tracy," said the -head-gardener, approaching the side, while the other man held the -reins; and Rose saw a look of eager interest in his eyes, and heard it -in his voice. - -"Terrified, I am, certainly, Mr.--Mr. Acton," she said, hesitating at -the name; "but not hurt, thank God! though, I believe I owe my life to -you." - -"I was much alarmed for you," he answered; "for I feared when I saw -them coming, as I stood on the mound, that I should not be in time. -But had you not better get out and walk home. I will open the -garden-gate; and then go and look for the boy. I hope the wheels did -not go over him, for I suppose he fell off." - -"I trust he is not hurt," answered Rose, allowing him to hand her out. -"The horses took fright at a man in the hedge, and threw him; but I -think he fell far from the carriage." - -"Here he comes, Miss," cried the under-gardener; "here he comes, a -running. There's no bones broke there." - -So it proved: the boy came with a face all scratched, and hands all -full of thorns; but otherwise uninjured, except in temper. -Vanity, vanity, the great mover in half--half! might I not say -nine-tenth's?--of man's actions; what wonderful absurdities is it not -always leading us into! All small postillions are wonderfully vain, -whether their expeditions be upon bright bays or hobby horses; and if -they be thrown, especially before the eyes of a mistress, how -pugnacious the little people become! The boy was inclined to avenge -himself upon the horses, and made straight to their heads with his -teeth set, and his knotted whip, newly recovered, in his hand; but the -under-gardener was learned in small postillions, and taking him by the -collar, before he could do more than aim one blow at the poor beasts, -he held him at arm's length, saying, "Thou art a fool, Thomas. The -cattle won't be a bit better for licking. They did not intend to make -thee look silly when they sent thee flying." - -"Thomas," cried the voice of Rose, "for shame! If you attempt to treat -the horses ill, I shall certainly inform my father." - -"Why, Miss, they might have killed you," answered little vanity, -assuming--she is own sister to Proteus--the shape of generous -indignation. - -"Never mind," answered Rose. "I insist upon it, you treat them gently -and kindly; or depend upon it you will be punished yourself." - -"Half the vicious horses that we see, Miss Tracy," said the -head-gardener, "are made so by man. We are all originally tyrants, I -fear, to those who cannot remonstrate; and the nearer we are to the -boy in heart and spirit, the stronger is the tyrant in our nature. It -is sorrow, disappointment, and sad experience that makes us men." - -He had forgotten himself for a moment; and Rose forgot herself too. -She looked up in his face and smiled as no lady (except Eve) ever -smiled upon a gardener, without being a coquette. - -They both recovered themselves in a minute, however; and, walking on -in silence to the garden-gate, about three hundred yards further up -the lane, the gardener opened it with his key and then saw her safely -till she was within sight of the house. Rose paused for a moment, and -smiled when he had bowed, and retired. "This cannot go on," she said. -"I may as well speak to him at once, now I know the circumstance; for -this state of things must come to an end. I owe him life, too; and may -well venture to do all I can, and proffer all I can, to console and -assist him. My father, I am sure, would aid him, and my uncle too, if -he would but confide in them." And with half-formed purposes she -returned to the house, and horrified and delighted her sister, who was -the only person she found at home, with an account of her danger and -her deliverance. - -About an hour and a half after, Rose Tracy stood by the basin of -gold-fish, with her little basket of fine bread crumbs in her hand. -The fishes were all gathered near in a herd, looking up to her with -more than usual interest in their dull round eyes--at least so it -might have seemed to fancy. Her fair face, with the large, soft, -silky-fringed eyes, was bent over the water; the clusters of her dark -brown hair fell upon her warm cheek, which glowed with a deeper hue, -she knew not why. The light green hat upon her head seemed like the -cup of a bending rose; and any one who saw her might have fancied her -the spirit of the flower whose name she bore. - -With a careful and equitable hand she scattered the food over the -surface of the water; and never were brighter colours presented by the -finny tenants of the pond of the half marble king of the black -islands, than her favourites displayed as they darted and flashed, -sometimes past, sometimes over each other, while a solitary ray of the -setting sun poured through the evergreens, passed between the columns, -and rested on the surface of the water. - -A slow, quiet, firm step sounded near; and Rose's cheek became a -little paler; but she instantly raised her head, and looked round with -a sparkling eye. The head-gardener was passing from his daily -avocations towards his cottage. Rose paused for a minute, with a heart -that fluttered. Then she beckoned to him, (as he took off his hat -respectfully,) and said aloud, "I want to speak with you." - -He advanced at once to her side, without the slightest appearance of -surprise; and Rose held out her hand to him. - -"I have to thank you for saving my life," she said in a hurried and -agitated tone--much more agitated than she wished it to be, or thought -it was; "and I believe we have all to thank you for saving the life of -my dear uncle. But I should take another time and means of expressing -my gratitude, had I not something else to say. I have a sadly -tenacious memory. Let me ask you frankly and candidly--have we not met -before you came here?" - -The head-gardener smiled sorrowfully; but he answered at once. "We -have, dear Miss Tracy, in other scenes and other circumstances. We met -at the Duchess of H----'s: a day which I shall never forget, and which I -have never forgotten. And I had the happiness of passing more than one -hour entirely with you. For, if you remember, the crowd was so great -that we could not find your aunt; and you were cast upon tedious -company as your only resource." - -Rose smiled, and answered not the latter part of his reply; but with a -varying colour, and in broken, embarrassed phrase, went on as -follows:--"You thought I had forgotten your appearance, Mr. Winslow; -but, as I have said, I have a sadly tenacious memory, and I -recollected you at once. I could not conceive what was the cause of -what I saw--of why or how you could be here--in--in such -circumstances--and it puzzled and--and embarrassed me very much; for I -thought--I was sure--that if I mentioned what I knew, it might be -painful to you--and yet to meet often one whom I had known in such a -different position, without a word of recognition--might seem--I do -not know what, but very strange." - -"I thank you deeply for your forbearance," replied Chandos, "and I -will beseech you, dear Miss Tracy, not to divulge the secret you -possess to anyone. If you do, it will force me immediately to quit -your father's service, and to abandon a scheme of life--a whim, if you -will, which--" - -"My father's service!" cried Rose, eagerly. "Oh, Mr. Winslow, why -should you condemn yourself to use such words. It is only this morning -that I have heard your history; but indeed, indeed, such a situation -becomes you not. Oh, be advised by one who has a title--the title of -deep gratitude, to obtrude advice. Tell my father, when he comes -to-morrow to thank you for saving his child's life, who you are. He -already knows how hardly, how iniquitously you have been used, and -this very day was expressing his sense of your wrongs. Oh tell him, -Mr. Winslow! You will find him kind, and feeling, and ready, I am -sure, to do anything to counsel and assist you. Pray, pray do!" and -Rose Tracy laid her fair beautiful hand upon his arm in her eager -petitioning. - -Chandos took it in his and pressed it, not warmly, but gratefully. -"Thank you; a thousand times thank you," he answered. "Such sympathy -and such kindness as you show, are worth all the assistance and the -encouragement that the whole world could give. Yet forgive me for not -following your advice. I am poor, Miss Tracy; but not so poor as to -render it necessary for me to follow this humble calling for support. -I am quite independent of circumstances. A relation left me sufficient -for existence some years ago. My father bequeathed me a fine library -and some other things of value. But it is my wish to try a different -mode of life from that to which I have been accustomed. I will confess -to you," he added, "that when I came here, I had no idea you were Mr. -Tracy's daughter, or perhaps I should not have come--" - -Her colour varied, and he went on--"The same causes," he said, with a -rapid and hasty voice, "which, had my expectations, reasonable or -unreasonable, been fulfilled, might have brought me hither eagerly, -would, in changed circumstances, have prevented me from coming. But -enough of this. I will not trouble you with all my motives and my -views--call them whims, call them follies, if you like; but I will -only say that I wish, for a short time, to give my mind repose from -the daily round of thoughts to which every man moving in one -particular circle alone is subject, which grind us down and fashion -our very hearts and spirits into artificial forms, till we deem -everything that is conventional right, and, I fear, are apt to imagine -that everything which is natural is wrong. I wish to see all objects -with different eyes from those with which I have hitherto seen them; -or, perhaps, to use a more rational figure, I would fain place myself -on a new spot in the great plain of society, whence I can obtain a -sight of the whole under a different point of view. I have looked down -at the world from the hill, dear Miss Tracy, I am determined now to -look up at it from the valley." - -Rose smiled with a look of interest, but yet a look of melancholy; and -shaking her head she answered, "You will soon be found out for a -mountaineer; they are already wondering at you." - -"That I cannot help," replied Chandos. "But at all events give me as -much time as possible; and if you would really oblige me, do not -mention to any one who and what I am. Let me be the gardener -still--except when, perhaps, at such a moment as this, you will -condescend to remember me as something else." - -"Oh, I am bound to keep your secret," said Rose; "or, indeed, to do -much more, if I knew how. But my father must express both his own and -his daughter's gratitude for the preservation of her life; and in the -meantime I will of course be silent as to your name and character. But -had I not better, Mr. Winslow, let you know, if I perceive any -probability of your being discovered?" - -"That would indeed be a great favour," replied Chandos; "for -circumstances might occur which would render discovery not only -painful, but highly detrimental." - -"Then I will give you warning of the first suspicion," answered Rose. -"And now farewell; for it is nearly dark, and the dinner bell will -soon ring." - -Chandos bent down his head, and kissed her hand. It was the first act -touching in the least upon gallantry which he had permitted himself; -but it called the colour into Rose's cheek; and with another farewell, -she left him. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - - -It was evening. The cottage fire blazed bright and warm. Two tallow -candles were upon the table; for Chandos loved light, and burnt two -tallow candles. Moreover, the people of the hamlet thought him a great -man because he did so. Such is the appreciation of the world--such -the all-pervading influence of the spirit of the country and the -times--such the admiration of money in the _United_ Kingdom! of Great -Britain and Ireland, that the neighbouring peasantry thought him a -much greater man than the last head-gardener, because he burnt two -tallow candles, and the last burnt only one. Take it home to you, ye -gentlemen in Grosvenor-square. Your services of gilded plate, your -rich dinners, your innumerable lackeys, (none below six feet two), -which gain you such envious reverence from those who use Sheffield -plate, and content themselves with a foot-boy, is nothing more than -the burning of two tallow candles, in the eyes of your inferiors in -wealth. Be vain of it, if you can! - -There was a neat row of books upon a shelf, against the little parlour -wall. Many related to gardening; but there was Shakespeare and Milton, -Ben, Beaumont and Fletcher, Herrick and Donne, and Cowley. Ranged -near, too, were seen, in good old bindings, Virgil and Horace, Lucan, -Tibullus, Martial, and Cicero. Ovid was not there; for Chandos had no -taste for gods and goddesses _en bagnio_. Homer and Lucretius were put -behind the rest, but where they could be got at easily. - -There were tea-cups and saucers on the table; and the old woman who -had been hired to keep his house orderly, and attend upon little Tim, -after he had become a denizen of the cottage, was boiling the water in -the adjoining kitchen. - -"Great A," said Chandos; and, out of a number of pasteboard letters on -the floor, the boy brought one, saying, "Great A. It looks like the -roof of a house." - -"Great B," repeated his self-installed master; and the boy brought -great B, remarking that it was like two sausages on a skewer. For -every letter he had some comparison; and it is wonderful how rapidly -by his own system of mnemonics he had taught himself to recollect one -from the other. - -"Now for the little bit of catechism, Tim," said the young gentleman; -"then a piece of bread-and-jam, and to bed." - -The boy came and stood at his knee, as if it had been a father's, and -repeated a few sentences of the First Catechism, in answer to -Chandos's questions; and the young gentleman patted his head, gave him -the thick-spread bread-and-jam, and was dismissing him to the care of -Dame Humphreys, when the room-door was quietly pushed open--it had -been ajar--and the tall, fine form of Lockwood appeared. - -"Ah, Lockwood! good evening," said Chandos. "Why, you are a late -visitor.--But what is the matter? You seem agitated." - -"Nothing, nothing. Sir," answered the other. "Only, to see you and the -little boy, put me in mind of my poor mother; and how she used to cry -sometimes when she was teaching me my catechism, long before I could -understand that it made her think that she had been wronged, and had -done wrong, too, herself. But who is the lad? if it be not an -impertinent question. He's not one of your own angles?" - -"I do not understand you, Lockwood," replied Chandos, in some -surprise. "If you mean to ask, whether he is a child of mine, I say, -'Certainly not.' Do you not see he is eight or nine years old?" - -"I call all children angles," answered Lockwood, smiling, "because -they are the meeting of two lines. You, for instance, are an isosceles -angle, because the two sides are equal. I am not, you know; which is a -misfortune, not a fault. But whose son is the boy? He seems a fine -little fellow." - -Chandos explained, and his explanation threw Lockwood into a fit of -musing. During its continuance, his half-brother had an opportunity of -examining what it was which had effected, since they last met, a -considerable difference in his personal appearance; and at length he -interrupted his meditation by observing, "I see you have let your -whiskers grow, Lockwood." - -"Yes," replied the other. "Yours pleased me; and so I determined to be -_barbatus_ also. Why men should shave off their beards at all I cannot -divine. Saints and patriarchs wore them. All the greatest men in the -world have worn them, with the exception of Newton, Moses, Mahomet, -Friar Bacon, King Alfred, and Numa Pompilius, were all bearded, as -well as Bluebeard, that strict disciplinarian, with Mr. Muntz, and his -brother, the Shah of Persia, and Prester John, who, if we knew his -whole history, was probably the greatest man amongst them. But -whiskers must do for the present. Perhaps I shall come to a whole -beard in time. I have brought you a leash of teal, and some news; for -which you shall give me a cup of tea." - -"I can give you a bed, too," answered Chandos; "for, thanks to your -good care, all the rooms are furnished now." - -"Not for me," answered Lockwood: "I am back by moonlight. The goddess -rises at eleven, I think; and I will be her Carian boy to-night--only -I will not sleep, but walk while she kisses my brow." - -Another cup was brought, and Chandos added some more tea to the -infusion. His companion seemed in a somewhat wandering mood of mind, -and many were the subjects started before he came to the news which he -had to tell. "What capital tea!" he said. "Mine is but sage and sloe -leaf to this. How we go on adulterating! There is not a thing -now-a-day that we eat or drink which is pure. Good things become -condemned by the foul imitations which men sell for them; and the -cheatery of the multitude robs the honest man of his due repute. -Instead of standing out in bright singularity, he is confounded in the -mass of rogues. Short measure, false weights, diminished numbers, -forged tickets, fictitious representations, adulterated goods, and -worthless fabrications, are the things upon which the once glorious -British trader now thrives. But it is only for a little day. Found -out, he will soon be despised; despised, neglected; and neglected, -ruined--or, at least, if it touches not this generation, it will the -next." - -"But, my good friend, it is not the British trader or manufacturer -alone," answered Chandos; "I can tell you, by having travelled a good -deal, that it is the spirit of the age, and pervades the whole world, -except in its most uncivilized districts. You can depend upon nothing -that you buy. A rich traveller orders his bottle of Champagne at an -inn, and is charged an enormous price for a deleterious beverage -prepared within half-a-dozen yards of the spot where he drinks it, -though that may be five hundred miles from Champagne. A spirit drinker -requires a glass of brandy, gets some fermented juice of the potato, -and is charged for _old Cognac_. Another asks for Saxony linen, and -receives a mixture of cotton and lint that is worn out in half the -time which would be required to use the article he paid for. Every man -in Europe, with a very few exceptions, thinks only of present gain, -without regard to honesty or future reputation." - -"He will kill the goose with the golden eggs," said Lockwood. - -"He cares not for that," answered Chandos. "The grand principle of -action in the present day was developed nearly forty years ago, when -one of a family, the wittiest perhaps that ever lived, and the one -which most quickly seized the feelings of their times, asked, 'What -did posterity ever do for me?' That is the secret of everything -strange that we see around us. Each man lives alone for his own -earthly life: he cares not either for those who come after, or for -remote reputation, or for a world that is to come. In regard to the -first, he thinks, 'They will take care of themselves, as I have done.' -In regard to the second he says, 'It is a bubble that, as far as I am -concerned, breaks when I die.' In regard to the third, his ideas are -indefinite; and while he admits that there may be an hereafter, he -takes his chance, and says, 'A bird in the hand is worth two in the -bush.'" - -"Ay, so it was with Mr. Parkington, the rich manufacturer who bought -Greenlees, close by Winslow, and died there," said Lockwood. "When he -was upon his death-bed, the parson of the parish went to console him, -and talked of the joys of Heaven. He spoke too finely for the old -spinner, I've a notion; for after he had told him of eternal happiness -in the knowledge and love of God, the sick man raised his gray head -and said, 'Thank you, thank you, Mr. Wilmington; but, after all, _Old -England fur my money!_'" - -Chandos could not refrain a smile. "Too true a picture," he said, "of -the mind of a money-getting man. But the state of our society is in -fault in giving such a bias to human weakness. We are taught from the -earliest period of our lives to think that the great object of -existence is money, and what money can procure. The whole tendency of -the age, in short, is material; and political economists, while -systematizing one class of man's efforts, have (unwittingly, I do -believe) left out of all consideration the higher and more important -duties and efforts which his station in creation imposes upon him. -Were man but the most reasoning of animals, such systems might do very -well; but for those who believe him to be something more, who know, or -feel, or hope that he is a responsible agent, to whom powers are -confided in trust for great purposes, a system that excludes or omits -all the wider relations of spirit with spirit, which takes no count of -man's immortal nature, which overlooks his dependence upon God and his -accountability to Him, is not only imperfect, but corrupt. It may be -said that it teaches man but one branch of the great social science; -and that to mix the consideration of others with it, would but -embarrass the theories which in themselves are right; but when a -system affects the whole relations of man with his fellow-creatures, -such an argument is inadmissible, upon the broad ground of reason, if -it be admitted that man is more than a machine, and most vicious, if -it be allowed that he is an accountable being under a code of laws -divine in their origin. These two questions are inseparable from every -argument affecting the dealings of man with man. Let those who reason -either admit or deny our immortality. If they deny, they may be right, -I say nought against it; and their reasoning regarding the machine, -_man_, would in most instances be very fair;--but if they admit, they -must take a wider grasp of the subject, and show that their doctrines -are compatible with his responsibility to God." - -"It would be wide enough and difficult enough," answered Lockwood. -"But it is a science of which I understand nothing. It seems to have -taught us more of the acquisition of wealth, than the acquisition of -happiness; and to lead inevitably to the accumulation of money in few -hands, without tending to its after-distribution amongst many. This is -all I have seen it do yet." - -"And that is a great evil," replied Chandos. - -"A great evil, indeed," answered Lockwood, laughing. "For instance: -your brother is a great deal too rich; and it would be a capital -thing, if his property were distributed." - -Chandos thought for a moment or two, very gravely, and then replied: -"I envy him not, Lockwood. Perhaps you may think it strange; but, I -assure you, what I am going to say is true: I would a great deal -rather be as I am, with the poor pittance I possess, than my brother -with his thoughts and feelings, and all his wealth. There must be -things resting on his mind, which, to me at least, would embitter the -richest food, and strew with thorns the softest bed." - -"Ah, I know what you mean," answered Lockwood; "I heard of it at the -time: seven or eight years ago. You mean that story of Susan Grey, the -Maid of the Mill, as they called her, who drowned herself." - -Chandos nodded his head, but made no reply; and Lockwood went on, - -"Ay, I remember her well; she was as pretty a creature as ever I saw, -and always used to put me in mind of the ballad of the 'Nut-brown -Maid.' You know, the old man died afterwards. He never held up his -head after your brother took her away. He became bankrupt in two -years, and was dead before the third was over. And the ruins of the -mill stand upon the hill, with the wind blowing through the plankless -beams, as through a murderer's bones in chains on a gibbet. But, after -all, though it was a very bad case, Sir William was but following his -father's example. The Greeks used to say, 'Bad the crow, bad the egg!' -and he trod in Sir Harry's footsteps." - -"No, no, no!" said Chandos, vehemently; "my father might seduce, -but he did not abandon to neglect and scorn. He might carry -unhappiness--and he did--to many a hearth; but he did not, for the -sake of a few pitiful pounds, cast off to poverty and misery the -creature he had deluded. I know the whole story, Lockwood. This was -the cause of the first bitter quarrel between my brother and myself. I -was a boy of but seventeen then. But often I used to stop at the mill, -when out shooting, and get a draught of good beer from the miller, or -his pretty daughter. I was very fond of the girl, not with an evil -fondness; for, as I have said, I was a boy then, and she was several -years older than myself. But I thought her very beautiful and very -good, blithe as a lark, and, to all appearance, innocent as an early -summer morning. I saw her but two days before she went away; I saw -her, also, on the very day of her death, when she returned, pale, -haggard, in rags that hardly hid the proofs of her shame, to seek some -compassion from him who had ruined and deserted her; ay, and driven -her mad. It was I, who went in and told him she was in the park; and I -did so fiercely enough, perhaps. He called me an impertinent fool; but -went out to speak to her, while I ran hastily to my own room to bring -her what little store of money I had; for I doubted my brother. What -passed between them I do not well know; but, when I came to where they -stood in the park, under the lime trees, not far from the high bank -over the river, my brother's face was flushed and his look menacing; -he was speaking fiercely and vehemently; and in a moment the girl -turned from him and ran away up the bank. I followed to console and -give her assistance, never dreaming of what was about to happen; but -when I came up, I found some labourers, who were at work there, -running down the little path to the river side. One of them had his -coat and hat off, and, to my surprise, plunged into the water. But I -need not tell you more of that part of the story; for you know it all -already. I went back to the house, and straight to my father's room, -and I told him all. There, perhaps, I was wrong; but indignation -overpowered reflection, and I acted on the impulse of the moment. A -terrible scene followed: my brother was sent for; my father reproached -him bitterly for his ungenerous abandonment of the poor girl. He again -turned his fury upon me, and struck me; and, boy as I was, I knocked -him down at a blow before my father's face. Perhaps it is a just -punishment for that violence, that to his generosity my fate in life -was left. But yet it is very strange; for my father never forgave him; -and me he was always fond of." - -"Very strange, indeed," answered Lockwood. "But this brings us by a -diagonal line to what I have got to tell you. Mr. Roberts has been -over at the Abbey for these last two days, and is putting all things -in order. A number of the tenants have been sent for, especially those -who have not got leases, but stand upon agreements; and he has given -them to know, that he is likely to quit your brother's service at the -end of three months." - -"Indeed!" exclaimed Chandos. "I am sorry for that. But yet it does not -much surprise me. He and William are not made to act together. What -else has he done?" - -"Why, he has behaved very well," answered Lockwood; "and I believe he -is an honest man. He left the people to judge for themselves, whether -they would demand leases upon their agreements, or not. But it has got -abroad, that the Abbey is to be immediately pulled down, all the -furniture sold, and perhaps the estates sold too. At all events, the -park is to be divided into two farms; though Mr. Roberts laughed and -said, he did not know who would take them, with my rights of free -warren over both." - -Chandos leaned his head upon his hand, and closed his eyes with a look -of bitter mortification. "This is sad," he said, at length: "the fine -old Abbey, which has been in our family for three centuries! Well, -well! Every one has a bitter cup to drink at some time; and this, I -suppose, is the beginning of mine. Everything to be sold, did you say, -Lockwood? The family pictures and all?" - -"All of them," answered Lockwood; "everything but what is left to you: -that is, the furniture of those two rooms and the books." - -"I must have my mother's picture, let it cost what it will," said -Chandos. "I will write to Roberts about it, if you will give him the -note." - -"Oh, there is time enough," rejoined his half-brother; "the sale won't -take place for some weeks yet. In the mean time we must think of -placing the books and bookcases, and all the rest of the things, in -some secure place; and next time I come over, I will go and talk to -Mr. Fleming about it. Here is the inventory I took of the things. -Roberts went over it with me and signed it, as you see. He says, you -may be rich enough after all; for, besides the books, which he -estimates at seven thousand pounds, he declares that the marble things -in the library are very valuable; and calls the little pictures in the -study, gems. I don't know what he means by that; for to me, they seem -as exactly like places, and things, and people I have seen a hundred -times, as possible. There's an old woman looking out of the window, -with a bottle in her hand, that, if the dress were not different, I -could swear, was a picture of my grandmother. However, he vows -it is worth a mint of money, though it is not much bigger than a -school-boy's slate." - -"The Gerard Dow," said Chandos, smiling. "It is very valuable, I -believe; but I am so covetous, that I do not think I can make up my -mind to part with any of them. You must see to their being well packed -up, Lockwood; for the least injury to such pictures is fatal. The -books also must be taken great care of, especially those in the glazed -bookcases." - -"Ay; but have you got the keys?" asked Lockwood. "Mr. Roberts was -asking for them, and says he does not know where they are." - -"I have them not," answered Chandos; "I never had. My brother has -them, most likely." - -"No," answered Lockwood; "he gave all the keys belonging to the Abbey -to Mr. Roberts; and these are not amongst them. But the locks can -easily be picked. I have always remarked, when people die, or change -their house, the keys go astray. But there's some one tapping at the -door; and so I shall go." - -"Stay, stay," cried Chandos; "I should like to write that note to -Roberts at once: I would not have that picture of my mother go into -other hands, for all I possess. Come in!" and as he spoke, the door of -the room opened, and the head of the gipsey-woman, Sally Stanley, was -thrust in. - -"You are not afraid of a gipsey at this time of night, master -gardener?" said the woman with a smile. "I want to see my boy, and -give him a kiss; for we are off at day-break to-morrow." - -Lockwood stared at her, with a sort of scared look, as if her race -stood higher in his fears than estimation, and shook his head -suspiciously; while Chandos replied: "No, no, Sally, I am not afraid. -Go into that room; and the old woman will take you to your boy. He is -getting on very well, and knows his alphabet already." - -The woman nodded her head, well pleased; and, with a glance from the -face of Chandos to that of his guest, walked on towards the door of -the kitchen. - -"Now, Chandos," said Lockwood, "let me have the note." - -The young gentleman raised his finger as a caution to his half-brother -not to mention aloud the name which he no longer bore. But the warning -was too late; the name was pronounced, and the gipsey-woman heard it. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - - -Time flew rapidly with both Chandos Winslow and Rose Tracy. They knew -not what had thus now plumed the great decayer's pinions for him. -Chandos thought that, in his own case, it was, that he had assumed one -of those old primeval occupations which in patriarchal days made the -minutes run so fast that men lived a thousand years as if they had -been but seventy. There was nothing for him like the life of a -gardener. - -Rose was somewhat more puzzled to account for the cheerful passing of -the minutes. When she had been a hundred times more gay, which was, -upon a fair calculation, some six weeks before, she had often called -the hours lazy-footed loiterers; but now they sped on so fast--so -fast--she hardly knew that the year was nearly at the end. She was now -as much in the garden as her father, her sister, or her uncle. -Whenever they were there, she was with them. When they talked to the -head-gardener, she talked to him too; and sometimes a merry smile -would come upon her warm little lips, of which her companions did not -well see the cause. But Rose was seldom in the garden alone--never -indeed but at the two stated times of the day when she went to feed -her gold-fishes. That she could not help. It must be deeply impressed -upon the reader's mind--ay, and reiterated, that from childhood this -had been her task; and it was quite impossible that she could abandon -it now--at least, so thought Rose. - -Every morning, then, and every evening, she visited the little basin, -and hung over her glossy favourites for several minutes. Well was she -named--for she was like her name--and very seldom has the eye of man -beheld anything more fair than Rose Tracy as she looked down upon the -water under the shade of the marble dome above: the soft cheek like -the heart of a blush rose, the clustering hair falling like moss over -her brow, the bending form, graceful as the stem of a flower. - -I know not how fate, fortune, or design had arranged it; but so it -was, that the hours when Chandos returned to his cottage, either in -the morning to breakfast, or in the evening to rest, were always a few -minutes after the periods when Rose visited the basin; and his way at -either time was sure to lie near that spot. If Emily was with her, as -sometimes happened, the head-gardener doffed his hat and passed on. If -Rose was alone, Chandos Winslow paused for a time, resumed his station -and himself, and enjoyed a few sweet moments of unreserved intercourse -with the only person who knew him as he really was. - -The strange situation in which they were placed, their former meeting -in a brighter scene, the future prospects and intentions of one, at -least, of the parties to those short conversations, furnished a -thousand subjects apart from all the rest of the world's things, which -had the effect that such mutual stores of thought and feeling always -have--they drew heart towards heart; and Chandos soon began to feel -that there was something else on earth than he had calculated upon to -struggle for against the world's frowns. - -Yet love was never mentioned between them. They talked confidingly and -happily; they did not know that they met purposely; there was a little -timidity in both their bosoms, but it was timidity at their own -feelings, not in the slightest degree at the fact of concealment. She -called him Mr. Winslow, and he called her Miss Tracy, long after the -names of Chandos and Rose came first to the lip. - -The quiet course of growing affection, however, was not altogether -untroubled--it never is. A gay party came down to Mr. Tracy's, to eat -his dinners and to shoot his pheasants. There were battues in the -morning, and music and dancing in the evening; and the wind wafted -merry sounds to the cottage of the gardener. Chandos was not without -discomfort; not that he longed to mix again in the scenes in which he -had so often taken part, to laugh with the joyous, to jest with the -gay. But he longed to be by the side of Rose Tracy; and when he -thought of her surrounded by the bright, the wealthy, and the great; -when he remembered that she was beautiful, graceful, captivating, one -of the co-heiresses of a man of great wealth; when he recollected that -there was no tie between him and her, he began to fear that the -bitterest drops of the bitter cup of fortune were yet to be drank. - -He knew not all which that cup might still contain. - -When they went not out early to shoot, the guests at Northferry House -sometimes would roam through the grounds, occasionally with their -inviter or his daughters, occasionally alone; and one day, when an -expedition to a high moor in the neighbourhood, where there was -excellent wild shooting, had been put off till the afternoon, a gay -nobleman, who fluttered between Emily and Rose, perfectly confident of -captivating either or both if he chose, exclaimed as they all left the -breakfast table, "I shall go and talk to your gardener, Tracy. Such a -fellow must be a curiosity, as much worth seeing as a bonassus.--A -gardener who talks Latin and quotes poetry! Upon my life you are a -favoured man! Will you not go and introduce me, Miss Tracy, to this -scientific son of Adam, whom your father has told me of." - -"Excuse me, my lord," answered Emily, "your lordship will need no -introduction. I have a letter to write for post." - -"Will not the fair Rose take compassion on me, then?" asked Viscount -Overton. "Who but the Rose should introduce one to the gardener?" - -"Roses are not found on the stalk in the winter, my good lord," -replied General Tracy for his niece, who, he saw, was somewhat -annoyed. "But I will be your introducer, if needful, though, according -to the phrase of old playwrights and novelists, a gentleman of _your -figure_ carries his own introduction with him." - -"General, you are too good," replied the other, with an air of mingled -self-satisfaction and persiflage. "But really that was an excellent -jest of yours--I must remember it--Roses are not found _on the stalk_ -in the winter! Capital! Do you make many jests?" - -"When I have fair subjects," answered Walter Tracy, with perfect good -humour. "But let us go, Viscount, if you are disposed. We shall find -Mr. Acton in the garden at this time. It is a pity you are not an -Irishman; for he is the best hand at managing a bull I ever saw." - -As they went, the story of the adventure with Farmer Thorpe's wild -beast was related, much to the delight of Lord Overton, who was a man -of a good deal of courage and spirit, though overlaid with an -affectation of effeminacy; and by the time it was done, they were by -the side of Chandos. General Tracy informed the head-gardener who the -noble lord was, and jestingly launched out into an encomium of his -taste for and knowledge of gardening. - -"I can assure you, Mr. Acton," said Lord Overton, in a tone of far too -marked condescension, "that, though the General makes a jest of it, I -am exceedingly fond of gardening, and both can and do take a spade or -rake in hand as well as any man." - -"I am glad to hear it, my lord," replied Chandos, who did not love -either his look or his manner; "our nobility must always be the better -for some manly employments." - -The Viscount was a little piqued, for there certainly was somewhat of -a sneer in the tone; and he replied, "But I hear that you, my -good friend, occasionally vary your labours with more graceful -occupations--studying Latin and Greek, and reading the poets, -thinking, I suppose, 'Ingenuas didicisse fideliter, artes, emollit -mores, nec sinit esse feros.' I dare say you know where the passage -is." - -"In the Eton Latin Grammar," answered Chandos, drily; and turning to -one of the under-gardeners, he gave him some orders respecting the -work he was about. - -"He does not seem to have had his manners much softened," said Lord -Overton in a low voice to Walter Tracy. But the General only replied -by a joyous peal of laughter; and, though the peer would not suffer -himself to be discomfited, and renewed the conversation with Chandos, -he could win no sign of having converted him to a belief, that he was -at all honoured by his condescension. - -"He's a radical, I suppose," said Lord Overton, when they turned away. -"All these self-taught fellows are radicals." - -"No, there you are mistaken, my good lord," answered Walter Tracy; "he -is a high tory. That is the only bad point about him." - -"Ah, General! you always were a terrible whig," said the Viscount, -with a shake of the head. - -"And always shall be," replied his companion, with a low and somewhat -cynical bow; "though the great abilities I see ranged on the other -side may make me regret that I am too old and too stiff to change." - -"Oh, one is never too old to mend," said Lord Overton; "and one never -should be too stiff. That harsh, violent, obstinate adherence to party -is the bane of our country." - -"Surely your lordship has no occasion to complain of it in our days," -observed the General. "If one read the speeches of the present men, -delivered twenty, fifteen, ten years ago, and mustered them according -to their opinions of that date, where should we find them? But I am no -politician. It only strikes me that the difference of the two great -parties is this, if I may use some military phraseology: the whigs, -pushing on, bayonet in hand, are a little in advance of their first -position. Their opponents are scattered all over the field, some -fighting, some flying, and more surrendering to the enemy. But, to -return, this young man, as I have said, seems to me a very rabid -tory--I beg your pardon--but a very honest fellow, notwithstanding." - -"The two things are quite compatible, General," said the Viscount, -stiffly. - -"Oh, perfectly," replied Walter Tracy. "As long as tories remain -tories they are very honest people; but when they have turned round -two or three times, I do not know what they are." - -Lord Overton did not like the conversation, and changed it; and the -two gentlemen returned to the house. Not many days after he took his -departure for London, not quite able to make up his mind whether Rose -or Emily, or either, was qualified by wealth, beauty, and grace to -become Viscountess Overton. After three days thought in London, he -decided that neither was, upon the consideration of the great moral -objection that exists to men of rank marrying _Misses_, especially -where that most horrible denomination is not corrected by the word -honourable before it. If Emily had been even a maid of honour, so that -her name might have appeared in the newspapers as the Honourable Miss -Tracy, he might have consented; but as it was, he judged decidedly it -would be a _mesalliance_, although Mr. Tracy's direct ancestors stood -upon the rolls of fame, when his own were herding cattle. - -He saved himself a very great mortification; for, to be rejected when -a man mistakenly thinks he is condescending, is the bitterest draught -with which false pride can be medicined. - -Both Emily and Rose Tracy were very glad when the peer was gone, for -his fluttering from one to the other (though he annoyed Emily most) -had much the same effect as having a bee or large fly in the room; but -there was another person in the neighbourhood who rejoiced still more, -and that was Horace Fleming. He had dined twice at Mr. Tracy's while -the party of visitors were there, and he did not at all approve of -Lord Overton's attentions to Emily. Chandos Winslow was not sorry, for -although he had not such definite cause for uneasiness as Fleming, yet -that little god of love, whom we hear so much of, and so seldom see, -is not only a metaphysical god, but a very irritable god too. The -sight of Rose Tracy had always been pleasant to him during the whole -time he had been in Mr. Tracy's service. Her beautiful little ancle -and tiny foot, as she walked along the paths, had to his fancy the -power of calling up flowers as it passed. Her smile had seemed to him -to give back summer to the wintry day; the light of her eyes to -prolong the sunshine, and make the twilight bright. In the morning she -was his Aurora, in the evening his Hesperus; and in a word, in the -space of six weeks and a day, Chandos Winslow had fallen very much in -love. But it must be remarked, that the odd day mentioned, was far -detached from the six weeks, dating nearly one year before. It had -been an epocha which he had always remembered however--one of the -green spots in the past. A lovely and intelligent girl, fresh, -and unspoiled by the great corruptor of taste, feeling, and -mind--fashionable society--had been cast upon his care and attention -for several hours, in a crowd which prevented her from finding her own -party at a fęte. They had danced together more than was prudent and -conventional, because they did not well know what else to do; and the -little embarrassment of the moment had only excited for her an -additional interest over and above that created by youth, beauty, -grace, and innocence. At the end of the evening, she had passed from -his sight like a shooting star, as he thought, for ever. But he -remembered the bright meteor, and its rays sometimes even had visited -him in sleep. Thus that day had as much to do with the love of the -case as the far-detached six weeks; though they had served to ripen, -and perfect, and mature a passion of which but one solitary seed had -been sown before. - -Four days after Lord Overton had departed, and three after the rest of -the guests had taken flight, Chandos saw Rose through the trees come -along towards the marble basin with a quicker step than usual. The -little velvet and chinchilla mantle was pressed tight over her full, -fine bosom, to keep out the cold wind of the last day of the year; but -there was an eager look in her bright eyes which made him think that -her rapid pace had other motives than mere exercise; and he, too, -hurried his steps, to reach the spot to which her steps tended, at the -same time as herself. Just as they both approached it, however, one of -the under-gardeners came up to ask a question of his superior officer. -He got a quick but kindly answer; but then he asked another; and that -was answered too. The devil was certainly in the man; for, having -nothing more to say to Chandos, he turned to Rose, and inquired -whether she would not like the screens put up to keep the pond from -the cold wind; and by the time he had done, General Tracy appeared, -and took possession of his niece's ear. - -Rose went away with a slower step and less eager look than she came. -But Chandos took care to be near the little basin at the time of -sunset, marking out some alterations in the surrounding shrubs which -he intended to propose against the spring. When Rose appeared, Emily -was with her; and Chandos was again disappointed. He showed the two -fair girls, however, what he intended to suggest to their father; and, -for one single moment, while Emily, taking the basket, scattered some -crumbs to her sister's favourites, Rose followed the head-gardener to -a spot which he thought might be well opened out, to give a view -beyond; and then, she said, in a low, hurried tone, "I am going to do -what perhaps is not right; but I must speak to you to-morrow morning, -at all risks. I will be here half-an-hour earlier than usual;" and -with limbs shaking as if she had committed theft, Rose left him, and -hurried back to her sister, ere Emily well perceived that she had left -her side. - -They were two sisters, however; loving like sisters, trusting like -sisters, with barely a year between them; and though they knew that -the one was younger, the other elder, they hardy felt it; for Lily was -gentle and unpresuming, though firm as she was mild. She took nought -upon her; and though she acted as the mistress of her father's house, -yet Rose seemed to share her authority, and more than share her power. -Emily pretended not to question or to rule her sister; and, had she -been suspicious, she would have asked no questions: but she suspected -nothing. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - - -"Fie, for shame!" cries the old lady so exceedingly smartly dressed -in the corner, whom one who did not see her face, or remark her -figure, but who only looked at her gay clothing, would take to be -twenty-three, though forty added to it would be within the mark--I -mean the old lady with the nutmeg-grater face, so like the portrait of -Hans Holbein's grand-aunt, which figures in many of his wood-cuts, -but, especially in the accouchement of the Burgomaster's wife of -Nuremburg. "Fie, for shame! What a very improper thing for a young -lady, like Miss Rose Tracy, to make an appointment with her father's -head-gardener. It is a breach of three of the Commandments!" (Let the -reader sort them.) "It is indecent, dangerous, abominable, terrible, -disgraceful, contrary to all the rules and regulations of society! -What a shocking girl she must be!" - -I will not defend her; I know that all the old ladies, in whatever -garments, whether bifurcate or circumambient, will reasonably cry out -upon Rose Tracy; but let us for a moment hear what it was that induced -her to perform that which the philosophers and critics of Lambeth, and -especially those nearest to the door of the famous peripatetic school -of the Bricklayers'-arms, would call "a very young trick." - -"Well, Arthur, what news do you bring us from the other side of -the hills?" asked General Tracy, when his brother appeared at the -dinner-table, on the second day after the departure of his last guest. - -"Why, that the Abbey estate is certainly to be sold," replied Mr. -Tracy. "I met Sir William at the court-house; and he informed me that -it was his intention to dispose of the property in lots. He was -particularly civil, and said, whatever arrangement might be necessary, -either for my convenience or that of this part of the county, he would -willingly make: so that the land required for the new road from H---- to -Northferry, will not cost more than the mere worth of the ground at a -valuation. I have seldom met with a more gentlemanly man, at least in -manners." - -"The heart may be a very different affair," said General Tracy. - -"Of that we may discover something more in a few days," answered the -other brother; "for I have asked him hereto settle the whole of this -affair with me, as the Germans say _unter vier Augen_; and he comes -here on Friday next, to spend a few days." - -Emily made no remark. She would have been very well satisfied to be -without the company of Sir William Winslow; for from all she had at -different times heard of him, she had not conceived a high opinion of -him. But she cared little about the matter, Rose, however, was alarmed -and agitated on Chandos's account; and she conjured up all sorts of -fears--lest she should not have an opportunity of giving him notice of -his brother's coming--lest he should not be able to avoid him--lest -they should meet and quarrel, and a thousand other _lests_, with which -it is unnecessary to embarrass the page. - -Turn we rather to the early hour at which she hastened down to her -little marble basin, where her gold-fish were certainly not expecting -her at that precise moment. Some one else was, however; and in that -expectation he had taken care that no such interruptions should occur -as on the preceding day. Dear Emily's graceful limbs were still in -soft repose too, or at least not clad in any presentable garments; -and, therefore the two had all the world of the little glade to -themselves. - -Rose, however, trembled more with agitation than fear. There were -doubts in her mind, doubts as to her conduct, doubts as to her -feelings; and those doubts were continually asking, "What stirred the -bosom of the Rose so powerfully?" a very unpleasant question, which -she was not inclined to answer. - -Chandos saw the agitation, and thought it very beautiful; for it made -her eye sparkle, and the colour of her cheek vary, and gave a -quivering eagerness to the half-open lips. Admiration was the first -feeling as he saw her come; but then some degree of anxiety to know -the cause of her emotion succeeded, and he advanced a step or two to -meet her. - -"Oh, Mr. Winslow," said Rose, as she approached; "I fear you must -think this very strange of me; but I made you a promise that if ever I -saw any likelihood of your being discovered, I would give you -immediate notice; and I must keep my promise before anything else." - -"And does such a likelihood exist?" asked Chandos, in some alarm; -"does any one suspect?" - -"Oh no," replied Rose; "but your brother is down at Winslow Abbey, or -in the neighbourhood; and my father has asked him here for a few days. -He comes on Friday." - -Chandos mused for a moment or two; and at length a faint and -melancholy smile came upon his fine countenance. "I know not well what -to do," he said at length, in a thoughtful tone, looking up in Rose's -face as if for counsel. - -"I thought it would embarrass you very much," she answered; "and I was -most anxious to tell you yesterday; but some obstacle always presented -itself, so that I was obliged to risk a step, which I am afraid will -make you think me a strange, rash girl." - -"A strange, rash girl!" said Chandos, gazing at her till her eyelids -fell, and the colour came up in her cheek. "A kind, noble, generous -one, rather; who will not let cold ceremonies stand in the way of a -good action, or mere forms prevent the fulfilment of a promise." He -took her hand and pressed his lips upon it; and then, looking into her -eyes, he added abruptly--"O, Rose, I love you dearly--too dearly for -my own peace, perhaps--and yet why should I fear? Rasher love than -mine has been successful; and one gleam of hope, one word of -encouragement will be enough to give me energy to sweep away all the -difficulties, to overcome all the obstacles, which seem so formidable -at a distance--nay, dear one, do not tremble and turn pale; surely you -must have felt before now that I love you--you must have seen even on -that first day of our meeting, which we both remember so well, that I -could love you, should love you, if we were to meet again." - -"I must go," said Hose in a low voice; "indeed, I must go." - -"Not yet," said Chandos, detaining her gently. "Sit down upon this -bench and hear me but for a moment; for my whole future fate is in -your hands, and by your words now will be decided whether by efforts, -stimulated and ennobled by love, I raise myself high in the world's -esteem, and recover that position in society of which I have been -unjustly deprived; or whether I linger on through a despairing life -without expectation or exertion, and leave my wayward fate to follow -its own course, without an attempt to mend it." - -"Oh do not do so, Chandos," replied Rose Tracy, raising her eyes for -the first time to his. "Make those great and generous efforts; put -forth all the powers of a fine, high mind; control by strong -determination the adverse circumstances that seem to have set so -strongly against you; and depend upon it you will be enabled to stem -the torrent which seems now so black and overwhelming." - -She spoke eagerly, enthusiastically; and her words were full of hope -to Chandos Winslow's ear--of hope; because he felt that such interest -could not be without its share of love; ay, and the very figure which -in her eagerness she used, recalled to his mind the swimming of the -stream near Winslow Abbey, which in its consequences had brought him -even where he then was. - -"I will stem the torrent, Rose," he answered, "I will swim the stream; -but I must have hope to welcome me to the other bank. I came hither -with a dream of other things; but you have given me new objects, new -inducements. Take them not from me, Rose; for the light you have -given, once extinguished, and all would be darkness indeed." - -"What would you have me say?" answered Rose, holding out her hand to -him frankly. "Were I to make any promises, were I to enter into any -engagements without my father's consent, you yourself would -disapprove, if you did not blame, and would not value a boon -improperly granted, or would always remember I had failed in one duty, -and doubt whether I would perform others well. You must not, Chandos, -no, you must not ask me to say or do anything that would lower me in -your opinion:" and she added, in an under tone, "I value it too -highly." - -"Not for the world," cried Chandos eagerly; "for even to ask it would -sink me in your esteem; but only tell me this, Rose, only give me this -hope--say, if I return qualified in point of fortune and expectations, -openly to ask your hand of your father, and gain his consent, may I -then hope?" - -The colour varied beautifully in her cheek, and this time she did not -look up; but, with her eyes bent down on the pebbles at her feet, she -said in a low, but distinct voice, "The objection shall not come from -me--I must not say more, Chandos," she continued in a louder tone; -"you must not ask me to say more. I know not on what your hopes and -expectations of success are founded; but you shall have my best wishes -and prayers." - -"Thanks, thanks, dearest," answered Chandos, kissing her hand: "my -hopes are not altogether baseless of advancement in any course I -choose to follow. I have had an education which fits me for almost any -course; and although I know that, in this hard world, the possession -of wealth is the first great means of winning wealth, that poverty is -the greatest bar to advancement in a country which professes that the -road to high station is open to every one, still I have quite enough -to sustain myself against the first buffets of the world. A relation, -thank God, left me independent. My father's will adds property, which, -when sold, will amount to eight or ten thousand pounds more; and with -the dear hopes that you have given me, I will instantly choose some -course, which upon due consideration may seem to lead most rapidly to -the end in view. I have relations, too, powerful and willing, I -believe, to serve me; and with their aid and my own efforts I do not -fear." - -"But what will you do at present?" said Rose anxiously. "If your -brother comes, of course he will recognise you. I have heard he is -very violent in temper, and I fear--" - -"Nay, have no fears," answered Chandos; "We must not meet at present. -But I stipulated with your father for a month's leave of absence at -this season of the year; and, although I have lingered on here, if the -truth must be told, to sun myself in the light of those dear eyes from -day to day, yet I almost resolved to spend one month, at least, of -every year, resuming my right character, in London. I will now claim -your father's promise, as little remains to be done here. Long ere I -return, my brother will be gone; and by that time too I shall have -fixed upon my future course of life, so as to communicate to you all -my schemes for the future. I will speak to Mr. Tracy this very -morning: and to-morrow, if he does not object, will take my departure. -But before then I shall see you again; is it not so, Rose?" - -"I dare say it will be so," she answered, with a faint smile: "there -has been seldom a day when we have not met. I begin to judge very -badly of myself; but I can assure you, I had no notion of what you -were thinking of till--till within these last few days, or I should -have acted differently, perhaps." - -"Ob, do not say so," replied her lover. "Why would you make me believe -you less kind, less gentle than you have shown yourself? Why say that -if you had known how great was the happiness you gave, you would have -deprived me of the brightest consolation I could have, under many -sorrows and disappointments." - -"If it consoled you I shall be more contented with myself," said Rose. -"But now I must go, Chandos; for indeed if any one were to catch me -sitting here talking to you, I should die of shame." - -"All that could then be done," answered her lover, "would be to tell, -that Thomas Acton is Chandos Winslow, and to say how he and Rose Tracy -met one bright day many months ago, and how she passed hours leaning -upon his arm amongst gay bright folks, who little suspected that he -would one day turn out a gardener." - -Rose laughed, and gave him her hand, only to be covered with parting -kisses; and, while she walked thoughtfully and with a much moved heart -back to the house, Chandos paused for full a quarter-of-an-hour to -gaze upon a bright and beautiful view, full of summer sunshine, and -life and light, which had suddenly opened before him in the world of -fancy. Oh what immense and uncountable wealth lies hid in the chambers -of a castle in the air! In youth we are all chameleons, and our lands -and tenements are as unsubstantial as our food. - -When he had lived in cloudland for a while, Chandos went round the -grounds, gave various orders, directions, and explanations; and then, -following the path which Rose had pursued--he loved to put his feet -on the same spots where hers had trod--he too went up to the house, -and desired to speak with Mr. Tracy. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - - -Amongst a crowd of persons who were waiting to get into the train, at -the--station of--railway, was one exceedingly well dressed young man -in deep mourning. He was tall, perhaps standing six feet in height, or -a little more, exceedingly broad over the chest, with long and -powerful arms, and a small waist. His features were fine, and the -expression of his countenance though very grave, was engaging and -noble. He had a first-class ticket, and got into a carriage in which -were already three other passengers. One was a tall middle-aged man, -with a dull-coloured handkerchief, high up, upon his chin; another, a -young dandified looking person, not very gentlemanly in appearance; -and the third, was a short personage, with an air of great importance, -a tin case, and a large roll of papers and parchments, tied up with a -piece of green ribbon. His face was round, his figure was round, his -legs were round, and his hands were round. In short, he would have -looked like a congeries of dumplings, if it had not been for the -colour of his countenance, which equalled that of an autumnal sun seen -through a London fog. Round and rosy countenances are not generally -the most expressive; and there was but one feature in that of this -worthy personage, which redeemed it from flat insipidity. That was the -eye; black, small, twinkling, ever in motion, it was one of the -shrewdest, cunningest little eyes that ever rolled in a human head. -There was not a vestige of eyebrow above it--nothing but a scalded red -line. There was very little eyelash around it, but yet it is wonderful -how it twinkled, without any accessories: a fixed star, shining by its -own light; and yet the simile is not a good one, for it was anything -but fixed, glancing from person to person, and object to object as -fast as it could go. - -When the stranger entered the carriage, this round gentleman was -holding forth to him in the dark handkerchief, upon some subject which -seemed to be provocative of that very troublesome quality, called -_eloquence_; but, nevertheless, without for one moment interrupting -his declamation, he had in an instant investigated every point of his -new fellow-traveller's exterior, while he was getting in, and had -doubtless made his own comments thereon, with proper sagacity. - -"It matters not one straw, my dear Sir," said the round man, with -infinite volubility, "whether it be the broad gauge or the narrow -gauge, whether it be well-constructed or ill-constructed, whether -well-worked or ill-worked, what are its facilities, whence it comes, -whither it goes, or any other accidental circumstance whatever. It is -a railroad, my dear Sir--a railroad, _in esse_ or _in posse_; and a -man of sense never considers a railroad, except under one point of -view, videlicet, as a speculation. That is the only question for any -man--How is it as a speculation? Is it up or down? Has it had its -_up?_--And here I must explain what I mean by having its _up_. Every -railroad that can be conceived, will, and does rise in the market, to -a certain height, at some time. Let me explain: By a certain height, I -mean a height above its real value. Well, it is sure to reach that -height at some time. All things are relative, of course. For instance, -and by way of illustration: Suppose some ingenious surveyor, with the -assistance of an engineer in some repute--say, Brunel, Cubit, -Vignoles--and a railway solicitor, were to start the project of a -railway to the Canary Islands. A number of stupid fellows would at -once say, 'That is impossible!' and scrip would be very low. But then -the projectors would wisely put a number of influential names in the -direction. The least scrap of writing in the world, will suffice to -justify you in putting a man's name in the direction; and if you -cannot get that, you take it for granted that he will support so -excellent a scheme, and put him on without. Well, _the rail to the -Canary Islands_ is before the public for some time--scrip very -low--perhaps no quotations--but two or three knowing ones are well -aware that it will have _its up_, and they buy. It gets rumoured that -Rothschild has bought, or Goldschmid has bought, or any other great -name has bought; scrip begins to rise. The bill goes in to the Board -of Trade--not the slightest chance of its being recommended--never -mind! There's an immense deal of bustle, an immense deal of talk: one -man says, it is folly; another, that it is a bubble--but then comes -some one and says, 'Look at Rothschild, look at Goldschmid, look at -the list of directors.' Scrip goes up! People begin to bet upon its -passing the Board. Scrip goes up! The last minute before the decision -arrives; and then, or at some period before or after, it may be said -to have its _up_. Then all wise men sell, and scrip goes down. If it -is a very bad job, it goes down, down, down, till the whole thing -bursts. If, however, it is feasible, with good and sturdy men -concerned, it will go on varying, sometimes high, sometimes low, for -months or years. But I would never advise any one to have to do with -such a line as that. The very worst and most impracticable are always -the best speculations." - -"I do not understand that," said the man in the dull handkerchief. "I -made ten thousand clear in one day by the Birmingham, which, after -all, is the best line going." - -"You might have made a hundred thousand if it had been the worst," -answered the man of rounds. "You say you don't understand it. I will -explain--I am always ready to explain. On uncertain lines, very -uncertain indeed, there is always the most fluctuation. Now the -business of a speculator is to take advantage of fluctuations. You -will say it is not safe, perhaps; but that is a mistake. The -speculation in the bad-line business can be reduced to a mathematical -certainty, as I proved to the worthy gentleman with whom I have been a -doing a little business this morning, Mr. Tracy, of Northferry. He -preferred good lines, and thought them both safer and more right and -proper, and all that sort of thing. So I only dealt with the safeness; -for, after all, that is the question with a speculator; and I showed -him that the very worst lines have their up at some time; it may not -be very great, but the difference between it and the down is greater -always than in good lines. 'Suppose, my dear Sir,' I said, 'that the -fifty-pound share is at first at ninety per cent. discount; then is -the time to buy. You never suppose that it will rise to par; but when -the surveying is all done, the notices are served, the forms all -complied with, and after a tremendous bustle--always make a tremendous -bustle, it tells on the market--and, after a tremendous bustle, you -have got your bill into the Board of Trade, the share is sure to go up -till it sticks at seventy or seventy-five per cent, discount. Then -sell as fast as possible, and you gain more than cent. per cent. upon -your outlay.' There is no scheme so bad upon the face of the earth -that it cannot be raised full ten per cent. with a little trouble. Let -a man start a line to the moon, and if I do not bring it up ten per -cent. from the first quotations, my name is not Scriptolemus Bond." - -"You must have made a good thing of it, Mr. Bond, I suppose," said the -man in the handkerchief. - -"Pretty well, pretty well!" answered the other with a shrewd wink of -the eye; "not quite up to Hudson yet; but I shall soon be a head of -him, for he does nothing but dabble with paltry good lines. I have -enough in this box to make three men's fortunes;" and he rapped the -tin case by his side. - -How the real Charlatan does vary its operations in different ages! -This same man, a century ago, would have been selling pills and -powders at a fair. His attention, however, was at this point called in -another direction, by the tall, elegant stranger in mourning, who had -lately come in, inquiring in a quiet tone, "Pray, Sir, does Mr. Arthur -Tracy speculate much in railroads?" - -"No man more," answered Mr. Scriptolemus Bond. "Are you acquainted -with him, Sir?" - -"I have seen and conversed with him several times," replied the other; -"but we are no farther acquainted." - -"Well, Sir, Mr. Tracy is a lucky man," said Mr. Bond; "he has -several hundred thousands of pounds in some of the most promising -speculations going. Too much in the good lines, indeed, to get as much -out of it as possible; but he has this morning, at my suggestion, -embarked in an excellent affair. 'The diagonal North of England and -John-o'-Groats-House Railway.' The fifty-pound share is now at -seventeen and sixpence, and I'll stake my reputation that in six weeks -it will be up at five pounds; for a great number of capital people are -only waiting to come in when they see it on the rise. Now the very -fact of Mr. Tracy having taken five hundred shares will raise them ten -or twelve shillings in the market; so that he might sell to-morrow, -and be a gainer of fifty per cent. Oh, I never advise a bad -speculation. I am always sure, quite sure. Would you like to embark a -few hundred pounds in the same spec as your friend, Sir? I have no -doubt I could get you shares at the same rate, or within a fraction, -if you decide at once. To-morrow they will probably be up to twenty or -five-and-twenty. How many shall I say, Sir?" and Mr. Scriptolemus took -out his note-book. - -"None, I thank you," answered Chandos Winslow; "I never speculate." - -"Humph!" said the other; and turning to the dandified young man in the -corner, he applied to him with better success. The youth's ears had -been open all the time, and the oratory displayed had produced the -greater effect, because it was not addressed immediately to him. - -No further conversation took place between Chandos Winslow and Mr. -Scriptolemus Bond. The latter found that he was not of the stuff of -which gentlemen of his cloth make conveniences, and, what is more, -discovered it at once. Indeed, it is wonderful what tact a practised -guller of the multitude displays in selecting the materials for his -work. - -At the London terminus, the young gentleman got into a cabriolet, and -took his way to a small quiet hotel in Cork-street, and remained -thinking during the evening a great deal more of Mr. Scriptolemus Bond -and his sayings and doings, than of anything else on earth, except -Rose Tracy. It was not that the prospect of making rapidly large sums -of money by the speculations of the day had any great effect upon him, -although it must be owned that such hopes would have been very -attractive in conjunction with that bright image of Rose Tracy, had it -not been for certain prejudices of habit and education. But he had a -higher flying ambition; he longed not only to win wealth for Rose -Tracy's sake, but to win it with distinction, in the straightforward, -open paths of personal exertion. He did not wish that his marriage -with her should be brought about like the denouement of a third-rate -French comedy, by a lucky hit upon the Bourse. It was the words which -Mr. Bond had spoken regarding the large speculations of Mr. Tracy -which surprised and somewhat alarmed him. He knew well that the -railroad mania was the fever of the day, that it affected every rank -and every profession, that neither sex and no age but infancy was -free; but he was sorry to find that Rose's father was infected with -the disease in so serious a form. What might be the consequences of a -mistake in such a course, to her he loved best! How great was the -probability of a mistake on the part of a man in Mr. Tracy's position! -He was removed from all sources of immediate information; he had few -means of ascertaining the feasibility of the schemes in which he -engaged; he had no means of ascertaining the characters of those with -whom he was associated. Young as he was, Chandos saw dangers great and -probable in such a course; and not knowing the almost omnipotent power -of a popular passion over the minds of men, he could not conceive how -a person of Mr. Tracy's sense, blessed with affluence, in need of -nothing, with but two daughters to succeed to wealth already great, -could yield himself to such infatuation. - -The next morning passed in visits to several of his old friends and -some of his mother's relations. His story, as far as regarded his -father's will, was already known, and he was received everywhere with -kindness--apparent, if not real; for it is a mistake to suppose that -the world is so impolitic as to show its selfishness in a way to -ensure contempt. One or two were really kind, entered warmly into his -feelings and his wishes, and consulted as to how his interests were -best to be served, his objects most readily to be gained. A cousin of -his mother's, an old lady with a large fortune at her disposal, wrote -at once to her nephew, one of the ministers, who had a good number of -daughters, begging him to espouse the cause of Chandos Winslow, and -obtain for him some employment in which his abilities would have room -to display themselves. An answer, however, was not to be expected -immediately; and Chandos went back to his solitary hotel with -gratitude for the kindness he had met with, but nevertheless with -spirits not raised. - -Several days passed dully. The hopes of youth travel by railroad, but -fulfilment goes still by the waggon. He found petty impediments at -every step: people out whom he wanted to see; hours wasted by waiting -in ante-rooms; ministers occupied all day long; friends who forgot -what they had promised to remember, and were very much ashamed to no -effect. To a man who seeks anything of his fellow-men, there is always -a terrible consumption of time. Sometimes it is accidental on the -part of those who inflict it--sometimes, alas! though by no means -always--it is in a degree intentional, for there is a pleasure in -keeping application waiting. It prolongs our importance. - -"My dear Sir, I am very sorry to have detained you," said a high -officer one day, running into the waiting room and shaking his hand; -"but I have had pressing business all the morning, and now I must ask -you to call on me to-morrow about two, for I am forced to run away -upon a matter that cannot be delayed." - -What had he been doing for the last hour? What was he going to do? He -had been reading the newspaper. He was going to trifle with a pretty -woman. - -A fortnight passed, and on the second Saturday of his stay in London, -Chandos, who loved music, went with a friend, a young guardsman, to -the opera. During the first act, for they were both enthusiasts in -their way, neither Chandos nor Captain Parker saw or heard anything -but what was going on upon the stage--I call him Captain Parker by a -licence common to those who write such books as this; for in reality -his name was not Parker, though in other respects the tale is true. At -the end of the first act, as usually happens with young men, they -began to look round the house from their station below in search of -friendly or of pretty faces. "There is my aunt, Lady Mary," said -Parker; "I must go up and speak with her for a minute. Will you come, -Winslow? I will introduce you. My two young cousins are very handsome, -people think." - -"Not to-night," said Chandos; "I am out of spirits, Parker, and unfit -for fair ladies' sweet companionship." - -Parker accordingly went away alone, and spent some time in his aunt's -box. Chandos looked up once, and saw bright eyes and a glass turned to -where he sat in the pit. "Parker is telling my story," he thought; and -an unpleasant feeling of being talked about made him turn away his -eyes and look at some other people. A few minutes after, his friend -rejoined him, and sat out the opera; then went to speak with some -other party; and Chandos, who was in a mood to be bored by a ballet, -and to detest even Cerito, walked slowly out. There were a good many -people going forth, and a crush of carriages. Lady Mary Parker's -carriage was shouted forth. (There may be another Lady Mary Parker; I -believe there is.) The lady advanced with her two daughters: the -servant was at the carriage-door: a chariot dashed violently up, and, -as her carriage had not drawn close to the curb, on account of another -that was before, cut in, jamming the footman, and almost running down -the old lady. Chandos started forward, caught the intruding horses' -heads, and forced them back, the coachman, as such cattle will -sometimes do, cutting at him with his whip. Of the latter circumstance -Chandos took but little notice, the police interfering to make the -coachman keep back when the mischief was done, according to the -practice of the London police; but he instantly approached Lady Mary, -expressing a hope in very courteous terms, that she was neither hurt, -nor much alarmed. - -"Oh, no! Mr. Winslow," said the lady, leaning on her eldest daughter; -"but I fear my poor servant is. He was jammed between the carriages." - -Ere Chandos could say anything in return, some one pushed roughly -against him, exclaiming, "Get out of the way, fellow!" and the next -moment Lord Overton was before him. - -"What do you mean, Sir?" cried Chandos, turning upon him fiercely, and -for an instant forgetting the presence of women. - -"I mean that you are an impertinent, blackguard," replied Lord -Overton. "I hope, Lady Mary, my fellow did not frighten you. He is -rather too quick." - -"So quick, my lord, that he should be discharged very quickly," said -Lady Mary Parker, taking Chandos's arm unoffered, and walking with him -to the side of her carriage. The young ladies followed; a question was -asked of the footman, who said he was a little hurt, but not much; and -the door was shut. - -Before the vehicle drove on, however, the ladies within had the -satisfaction, if it was one, of seeing Chandos Winslow lead Lord -Overton towards his carriage by the nose. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - - -Let us write an essay upon noses. Each organ of the human body, but -more especially an organ of sensation, has a sort of existence -apart--a separate sphere of being from the great commonwealth of which -it is a member, just as every individual has his own peculiar ties and -relationships distinct from the body of society, though affecting it -sympathetically and remotely. Each organ has its affections and its -pleasures; its misfortunes and its pains; its peculiarities, generic -and individual; its own appropriate history, and its unchangeable -destiny and fate. As the eye is supposed (wrongly) to be the most -expressive of organs, so is the nose of man the most impressible. -Tender in its affections, enlarged in its sympathies, soft in its -character, it is in this foul and corrupt world more frequently -subject to unpleasant than to pleasant influences. During one season -of the year alone does nature provide it with enjoyments; and during -the long cold winter it is pinched and maltreated by meteoric -vicissitudes. It is a summer-bird; a butterfly; a flower, blossoming -on the waste of man's countenance, but inhaling (not exhaling) odours -during the bright period when other flowers are in bloom. During the -whole of the rest of the year its joys are factitious, and whether -they proceed from Eau de Portugal, bouquet ŕ la Reine, or Jean Marie -Farina, it is but a sort of hot-house life the nose obtains, produced -by stoves and pipes, till summer comes round again. - -Like all the sensitive, the nose is perhaps the most unfortunate of -human organs. Placed in an elevated situation, it is subject to all -the rude buffets of the world; its tender organization is always -subject to disgusts. Boreas assails it; Sol burns it; Bacchus inflames -it. Put forward as a leader in the front of the battle, men follow it -blindly on a course which it is very often unwilling to pursue, and -then blame it for every mischance. Whatever hard blows are given, it -comes in for more than its share; and, after weeping tears of blood, -has to atone for the faults of other members over which it has no -control. The fists are continually getting it into scrapes; its bad -neighbour, the tongue, brings down indignation upon it undeserved; the -eyes play it false on a thousand occasions; and the whole body -corporate is continually poking it into situations most repugnant to -its better feelings. The poor, unfortunate nose! verily, it is a sadly -misused organ. It matters not whether it be hooked or straight, long -or short, turned-up or depressed, a bottle, a bandbox, a sausage, or -the ace of clubs; Roman, Grecian, English, French, German, or Calmuc, -the nose is ever to be pitied for its fate below. - -I can hardly forgive Chandos Winslow for fingering so rudely the nasal -organ of Viscount Overton. It was of considerable extent, and very -tangible qualities: an inviting nose, it must be said, which offered -almost as many temptations to an insulted man as that of a certain -gentleman in Strasburg to the trumpeter's wife. So much must be said -in Chandos's favour; but yet it was cruel, harsh, almost cowardly. The -poor nose could not defend itself; and yet he had the barbarity to -pinch the helpless innocent between his iron finger and thumb for full -three seconds and a half. Pain and amazement kept the owner of the -nose from putting forth his own powers to avenge it for the same -space; and indeed it would have been to little purpose had he -attempted such a thing, for he was no more capable of defending his -nose against Chandos Winslow, than the nose was of defending itself. - -At length the grasp of his antagonist relaxed, and the peer exclaimed -aloud, "Police! police! You scoundrel, I will give you in charge." - -"That you can do if you please," answered Chandos, with a sneer; "but -methinks your honour will somewhat suffer. There, Sir, is my card, if -you wish to know who it is has punished your impertinence." - -The police were very busy at a little distance; and the noble lord, -left to his own resources, exclaimed, "Your card, fellow! Do -you suppose I do not know you--a low vagabond dressed up as a -gentleman!--Police! I say." - -A crowd had gathered round, and two gentlemen in anticipation of the -arrival of the police, were investigating the contents of the peer's -pockets, when a tall, thin, gentlemanly man, one Sir Henry d'Estragon, -a Lieutenant-Colonel in the service, well known about Wimbledon and -Molesey, and who had even reminiscences of Primrose Hill when there -was such a place unpolluted, pushed his way through, crying, "Why, -Winslow, what is the matter? How do you do, my dear fellow? Here seems -a row. What is going on?" - -"Perhaps, d'Estragon, you can persuade this person, whose nose I have -just had the pleasure of pulling," replied Chandos Winslow, "that I am -not a low vagabond dressed up like a gentleman. He is not inclined to -take my card, but calls for the police." - -"Rather strange," said Sir Henry d'Estragon. "I thought it was Lord -Overton: but I must be mistaken." - -"No Sir, you are not," replied the peer; "but I have every reason to -believe this person to be an impostor." - -"Pooh!" said the officer, turning away with a scoff. "Come, Winslow; -if he chooses policemen for his friends on such occasions, we had -better get away. Here they come." - -"Stay a moment, Sir," said Lord Overton; "if you will be answerable -that this person is--" - -"Mr. Chandos Winslow, my lord," replied Sir Henry, "second son of my -old friend Sir Harry Winslow, whom I had the honour of accompanying in -'twenty-seven, when he shot Michael Burnsley. I have nothing more to -say, except that there is the gentleman's card. Any friend of yours -will find me with him till twelve to-morrow. But if you prefer the -police, you must send them after us. Goodnight, my lord." - -Lord Overton took the tendered card; and Sir Henry, putting his arm -through that of Chandos, walked away up Charles-street, while the -policemen came up and inquired what was the matter; but got no -satisfactory answer. - -The next morning Sir Henry d'Estragon sat at breakfast with Chandos -Winslow in his hotel, making himself very comfortable with all the -etcćteras of an English breakfast, when Lord George Lumley was -announced; and, as Chandos knew no such person, the object of his -visit was not difficult to divine. All formal courtesies were gone -through in a very formal manner; and then, after a single instant's -pause, and a look at a patent-leather boot, Lord George addressed -himself to the business in hand. - -"I have the honour, Mr. Winslow," he said, "of bearing you a message -from my friend, Lord Overton. It would seem a very strange -misconception took place last night, according to Lord Overton's -account, from whom I required a full explanation of the whole -circumstances, as I never undertake anything of this kind, without -having made myself master of the facts." - -Sir Henry d'Estragon showed some signs of an impatience, which was not -decreased when Lord George went on to say: "Lord Overton mistook you, -it would appear, for a person in an inferior station, very like you; I -myself see no reason why mutual apologies should not set the whole -matter to rights; but--" - -"We have no apologies to make, my dear lord," replied Sir Henry; "your -friend called Mr. Winslow an impertinent blackguard, in the presence -of three ladies; adding, afterwards, some very insulting language. -Under those circumstances, my friend pulled his nose--he always does; -it is a habit he has--and there we rest satisfied: if Lord Overton is -not satisfied, it is another thing." - -"I will only add one word," said Chandos, "on my own part, and then -leave you two gentlemen to settle the matter; as, when I have put -myself in the hands of another, I have no farther right to interfere. -What I have simply to say, is this: that the language and manner of -Lord Overton towards me is not to be justified or excused by the plea -that he mistook me for any one else, for it was ungentlemanly and -unjustifiable towards any man, who gave him no offence, let that man's -situation be what it would. And now, gentlemen, I will leave you." And -he walked into the neighbouring room. - -In about five minutes after, Sir Henry d'Estragon came in to him and -said, "Lord George requires, on the part of his friend, that you -should say you are sorry for having pulled his nose. I have already -given a general refusal; but Lord George is peacefully as well as -valiantly disposed; and, therefore, wishes the proposal to be -submitted to you, with a hint at the same time, that he does not know -whether his principal will be contented with the terms; but that he -shall withdraw from the business, if Lord Overton is not. What say -you? Do not let me bias you." - -"I shall certainly not say that I am sorry," replied Chandos; "for if -I did, I should tell a lie. I think it was the only fitting punishment -for Lord Overton's conduct, though perhaps, less than he merited." - -"Bravo!" said Sir Henry; and returning again into the sitting room, he -remained for about ten minutes in consultation with Lord George -Lumley, and then notified to Chandos, that all was arranged for a -meeting on the day after the next. - -At seven o'clock in the morning--it was just gray daylight--a -post-chaise and a travelling-chariot were seen drawn up, near the -mill, on Wimbledon Common. At the distance of about five hundred yards -stood five persons, of whom Chandos Winslow and Viscount Overton were -the principals. Chandos was cool and calm, though there was some -little degree of hesitation in his own mind regarding his conduct. -Lord Overton was considerably excited, and eyed his adversary with a -steady look and a frowning brow. Lord George Lumley made one more -effort to bring about a reconciliation; but the peer repelled even his -own friend haughtily, saying aloud, so that no one could avoid hearing -him: "I tell you, Lumley, the time is past. I would accept no apology -now, if it were offered; and pray take care that there be no foolery: -for it is my determination not to quit this spot, till one or the -other of us cannot fire a shot." - -Such a declaration was well calculated to remove any doubt from -Chandos's mind. D'Estragon placed him very scientifically, spoke a -word or two of caution and direction, and then retired with Lord -George to give the signal. The distance was eight paces; the ground -flat and unencumbered; both men very cool and steady; for Lord Overton -had grown calm, as soon as he was in position; and the "one, two, -three," were pronounced in a clear, loud voice. Both pistols were -fired in an instant. Chandos Winslow's hat was knocked off his head, -and fell a step or two behind; but he stood firm. On the contrary Lord -Overton wavered on his feet, though no one saw where the ball had -taken effect; and then dropped slowly down, with a motion as unlike a -stage death as possible. The surgeon and the seconds all ran up; and -Chandos Winslow, after pausing for a moment, followed more slowly. -D'Estragon, however, met him, as he came near, saying: "Come along, -come along! he has got sufficient." And, taking him by the arm, he -hurried him towards the chaise, into which they both got. - -"Cork-street," he said to Winslow's boy; and, putting his head out of -the window, he called to the man with the other horses, "You had -better get up there as near as you can to those gentlemen." - -Chandos leaned back in his carriage with very painful sensations at -his heart: he felt what it is for two men to meet full of life and -energy, and but one to go away again. At that moment he would have -given almost all he possessed on earth, that he had not fired. - -"Is he dead?" he inquired at length. - -"No, he was not when we came away," said d'Estragon, gravely, "but -hurt quite badly enough for you to be off, my dear fellow, and me too. -Just drop me at my house as we go by; and then get this fellow to take -you another stage out of town. It will be better for us to go -separately; for I have known awkward consequences from two men -travelling together under such circumstances." - -The arrangement he proposed was followed, as far at least as dropping -him at his own house was concerned; but Chandos then returned to the -hotel, and remained for nearly half-an-hour in sad thought. He had -scarcely the heart to fly; but after a while, recalling the unpleasant -image of long imprisonment before trial, he made up his mind to his -course, and quitted London by one of the few stage coaches remaining. -About ten days were spent in retirement at one of the small villages -which are found scattered over the country within about twenty miles -of London, and then he made his way back towards Winslow Abbey. He had -heard no news of his antagonist's fate after he had left him with his -friend and the surgeon on Wimbledon Common. In a country paper, -indeed, he had seen, copied from a London paper, an account of the -duel, in which the facts were of course misstated, without being -altogether false. If newspapers would content themselves with telling -the plain truth or the plain lie about anything, they would be -beneficial or harmless; but it is the mixture of both which often -renders them dangerous and detrimental, ay, sometimes even after -nineteen years. From the journal which fell into his hands, all he -gathered was that Lord Overton had been carried to his own house, -supposed to be in a dying state, while the peer's conduct towards -himself was grossly exaggerated by a democratic paper, for the purpose -of crying down the aristocracy. He was grieved, anxious, remorseful; -for he could not exculpate himself from all blame. He knew that Lord -Overton had just cause to think that he was assuming a character which -did not belong to him; and all the motives which had actuated before -and during the duel seemed to vanish into thin air when he came calmly -and without passion to examine his own conduct. In vain he asked -himself if he could stand and be insulted without resentment in the -presence of persons nearly strangers to him. In vain he thought that -no law required him to remain passive and be shot at by a man who -declared his determination of not quitting the ground till one fell. -In vain he argued, that having put his honour into the hands of a -friend, he was bound to abide by whatever determination that friend -came to. He felt that he might have done better, and that by not doing -so he had endangered, if not taken, the life of a fellow-creature. - -It was with a heavy heart then that, after having quitted the railroad -and the cross coach, and left his baggage to be sent to the little -public-house at Northferry, he walked on in the garments of an -inferior station, which he had resumed, towards the ancient seat of -his family, wishing to see his half-brother, Lockwood, and obtain -further information upon many points before he proceeded to Mr. -Tracy's. - -The sun had set before he reached the park; and walking slowly along -under a row of broad chestnuts which bordered the paling on the east, -he approached Lockwood's house, thoughtful, and perhaps more sad than -when he had first visited it. But the house was all dark, and he -rapped and tried the door in vain. Then thinking that perhaps the -person he sought had gone up to the Abbey, he crossed the wide -savannahs and groves of tall trees, and came upon the house towards -the eastern angle. There were lights in several of the rooms, and a -suspicion that his brother might be at the house crossed his mind. How -to ascertain the fact without discovering himself, became the next -question; but the night was very dark, the tall windows came down to -within three feet of the ground of the terrace; the wind was high and -noisy, so as to cover the sound of his footfalls, and in most of the -rooms the curtains seemed not to have been drawn. He would look in, he -thought, and see who were the tenants. - -The rooms nearest to him he knew were those inhabited by the keeper, -Garbett, and his wife; and passing on along the principal front, -he paused at what had been called in his boyish days the little -drawing-room. There were candles on the table, and two men within, one -holding a light in his hand, the other mounted on a ladder, pasting -printed numbers upon the old family pictures, previous to a sale. The -next room, the great drawing-room, was dark; but the music-room beyond -displayed to his eyes a tall, dry-looking person, in a frock coat and -a yellow waistcoat, probably an auctioneer, striking the keys of an -old piano which had stood there since his mother's days. Then came the -boudoir, without lights, and a little ante-room, also in darkness. -Beyond was the small study, the furniture of which had been bequeathed -to himself, and in it was a faint light, which, when he looked through -the windows, he perceived was afforded by the open door of the library -adjoining. Going on a few steps, he paused and gazed, not doubting -that if Lockwood was at the Abbey he would be there; but no such -figure presented itself. - -At the large table sat Mr. Faber, the late Sir Harry Winslow's -secretary, and probably his son, with writing materials before him; -and--opposite one of the large gothic bookcases, with a candle on a -small table at his side--was Roberts, the steward. He was busily -engaged with a set of strange-looking iron instruments on a ring, in -what seemed to be picking the lock of one of the drawers, a range of -which ran between the book-shelves above, and a row of cupboards -below. The next instant, while Chandos was still gazing, the drawer -was pulled out, and Roberts took forth a whole handful of papers. He -threw one after the other down into a basket at his side with very -little consideration, till suddenly he paused, looked earnestly at one -of the few which remained in his hand, and then seemed moved by -stronger emotions than Chandos had ever before observed in his calm -and little perturbable countenance. The moment after he said something -to Mr. Faber, and then Chandos heard him distinctly say, "Call him, -call him." - -The young secretary rose from the table, paused to look earnestly at -the paper in the steward's hands, and then left the room. Roberts sat -down and wrote, looking from time to time at the paper as if he were -copying something inscribed upon it; and at the end of perhaps two -minutes, Mr. Faber returned. As he entered the room his eyes turned -towards the window where Chandos stood, and he suddenly lifted his -hand and pointed. It was evident that he saw somebody looking in; but -Chandos was sure that in the darkness, and at the distance at which he -stood, his features could not be distinguished. He was agitated, and -his thoughts troubled with all he had seen. He felt convinced that his -brother was in the house, and had been sent for by Roberts. He feared -an encounter with Sir William at that moment and in that garb. He -feared himself and his own vehemence--it was a lesson he had lately -learned; and hurrying away, he plunged into the woods, crossed the -park again, and sought a village about two miles distant, where a -little inn was to be found. - -Entering with as composed an air as possible, Chandos Winslow asked -for a room and some tea; and having been accommodated at once, for -persons dressed like himself were frequent and honoured guest, he sat -down to think. - -What was the meaning, he asked himself, of the scene he had just -beheld at the Abbey? It was evident that the drawers of the bookcases -which had been left to him with all their contents of every kind, had -been opened without his consent or knowledge. All that those two rooms -contained, of every kind and description whatsoever, had been left to -him by his father's will. The papers which he had seen taken out might -be of infinite importance to him. Who could tell what might be done -with them? Roberts he believed to be perfectly honest. Faber, though -very weak, was kind and gentle; but his brother he felt he could not -depend upon. His notions of right and wrong were anything but strict; -and his ideas of his own privileges and rights distorted by that -species of haughty selfishness, which makes despots of crowned -monarchs and tyrants and unjust men in every walk of life, might -induce him to read the legacy to his brother in a very different sense -from the plain one, and lead him to take possession of the papers -which had been found by his steward and his secretary. - -Chandos thought long--sadly--seriously. There are despairing moments, -when all earthly things seem nothing. When the objects of hope and -desire appear valueless--when we feel tired out with the struggle -against fate, and are inclined to give it up and let all things take -their chance. Those are dangerous moments. Let every man beware of -them. They are the first symptoms of the worst kind of mental -malady--apathy; and without prompt and speedy remedies, the disease -will get such a hold that it will be with difficulty cast off. Chandos -felt it creeping upon him, as he had once felt it before. It seemed as -if his destiny was to misfortune; as if nothing could go right with -him; as if every effort, every hope failed. What was the use of -prolonging the strife? What mattered it how the papers, the furniture, -the books, the busts, the pictures, were disposed of? Why should he -play out a losing game? Were it not better to spread out his cards -upon the board, and let his adversary make the most of them? - -But, happily, like a ray of light breaking through the storm -clouds--like the first smile of summer after winter--like an angel -sent to comfort, the image of Rose Tracy rose up before his memory. -For her was the struggle. She was the spirit of hope to him; and the -strife against fortune was renewed. Every possession--every chance -became an object worth preserving, as Rose Tracy presented herself to -thought, and for her he resolved to neglect no effort which he had -power to make. The first thing he decided upon was to let Roberts, at -least, know that he was aware of what had taken place; and, calling -for pen and ink and paper, he wrote him a short formal note, to the -following effect:-- - - - Sir, - -I am much surprised to find that the drawers of the bookcases left to -me by my father's will, together with everything that the library and -adjoining study contain, of every kind whatsoever, have been opened -with pick-locks, without my consent. I write this merely to remind you -that you are accountable to me, and only to me, for everything that -you may have found in those drawers, and to insist that the papers of -which you have taken possession, be given into the hands of no one but - - Your obedient servant, - - Chandos Winslow. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - - -There is no sorrow like self-reproach. Chandos Winslow was by no means -a perfect character: he inherited much of his father's vehemence of -nature, though far less than his brother: but at the same time, -whether it be a natural or an acquired quality, (I think, the former,) -he had great conscientiousness. Now, great conscientiousness cannot -exist in the same breast with much vanity. They are incompatible -ingredients: the vain man thinks all he does is right; the -conscientious man is always trying if it be so, and censuring himself -more than he would others when he finds he has acted wrong. Chandos -felt that he had done so in the case of Lord Overton. How much soever -worldly usages might justify him, he would not exculpate himself. And -the burden was heavy: he groaned under it. - -When he had written the note to Mr. Roberts, and obtained some tea, he -sat meditating sadly on his fate, till at length he thought, "It would -be better to give myself up! It is a duty--it may be some atonement. I -will see Mr. Tracy first; and Rose. Dear girl, I fear she has suffered -on my account." - -His thoughts still remained sad; but they were calmer after he had -taken this resolution. And ringing the bell, he asked if there was a -newspaper in the house to amuse the time. The landlady, who appeared -herself, said there was no "fresh ones," as she termed them; for Mr. -Tims, the sexton, always had them first, and he kept them full three -days; which was a shame. She had all last week's Times, however, she -added, if the gentleman would like to see them. - -"Better that than none," Chandos thought; and accepted, the offer. In -a few minutes, the huge pile which a week's accumulation of the Times -newspaper is sure to form in the month of January, when parliament -meets early, was placed before him, and he opened the one at the top. -It was six days old; but the young gentleman's eye rested first upon -one of those eloquent and masterly leading articles, where all the -powers of language and the acuteness of human reason, sharpened by art -and use, are employed to give a peculiar view of some passing subject, -in what may well be called an essay, which, if mental labour and -literary merit ever obtained reward in England, would raise the writer -far above the great body of those who are honoured by the crown and -paid by the nation. The vigour, the subtlety, the eloquence, ay, and -the wisdom of many passages captivated the mind of Chandos Winslow; -but they brought a sad moral with them. He had dreamed of employing -his own talents in the world of letters, of seeking fame and -recompense by mental exertion. But he now asked himself--"Who is it -wrote this splendid essay? What has been his reward in life? Who will -ever hear of him? What will be his future fate? A man who can shake -public opinion to its foundation, who can rule and command the minds -of millions by the sceptre of genius, will live unhonoured but by a -few, unrewarded except by the comparatively small remuneration, which -even such a journal as this can afford, and die forgotten. Print -calico, Chandos Winslow, twist cotton, paint portraits, feel pulses, -plead causes bad and good, cut throats, do any thing but follow a -course which in England is luxurious to the rich and great, thorny and -stony to all else. We are a great commercial people! we are a nation -of shopkeepers; and even in the distribution of honours and rewards, -those who have them to dispose of expect their material pennyworth in -return. Mind is nothing in Great Britain, except as it is employed -upon matter." - -While indulging in such reveries Chandos had laid the paper down; but -when they were over, he took it up again; and his eyes fell upon -several other paragraphs, one after the other, till they rested upon a -brief passage, copied from another journal, and headed "THE LATE -DUEL." - -"We are happy to be able to state," it went on to say, "that Lord -Overton, the sufferer in the late duel with Mr. Chandos Winslow, is -proceeding rapidly towards convalescence.--Very little fever followed -the extraction of the ball, and that which did supervene has quite -subsided. The answer to inquiries yesterday at his lordship's house -was, that he had been permitted to sit up for several hours. Under -these favourable circumstances, Sir Henry d'Estragon and Mr. Winslow -have returned to town, but have not yet shown themselves in public." - -Chandos would have felt more satisfaction if there had not been one -lie at least in the paragraph; but still he judged that the writer was -more likely to learn Lord Overton's real state than his own movements; -and he sought eagerly through the later papers for further -information. He found at length a paragraph which stated that -"Viscount Overton, who was wounded in the late duel at Wimbledon, is -now quite convalescent, and drove out yesterday for two hours in the -park." - -Chandos felt as if some angel's hand had effaced the brand of Cain -from his brow: his resolution of giving himself up was of course at an -end, it being, like all resolutions in regard to definite acts, the -mere plaything of circumstances; but he set to work to form other -resolutions, which men may frame with better hopes of their -durability, if their own minds be strong. They affected the regulation -of his own passions, the course of his own conduct, the control of his -own spirit. They were good; and they were lasting. - -It is excellent for man to stand as on a mountain in the outset of -life, and gaze over the many ways before him; to choose deliberately -and with cool judgment, that upon which he will bend his steps, and to -pursue it to the end. Verily, he shall not want success. - -Chandos Winslow did so; and he rose tranquillized. Warm and eager by -nature, he had learned from his mother to control himself to a certain -point; but that control was merely according to or within the limits -of worldly conventionalities. He had now found that there were wider -obligations; that to rule his own passions, to check his own -vehemence, to submit all his first impulses to a rigid law, totally -independent of the factitious regulations of society, was a duty -which, performed, must lead to peace of mind; and he resolved to -strive so to do against original disposition, and against what is even -more strong--habit. - -On the subsequent morning he set out early for Northferry, not -choosing to revisit Winslow park again, lest he should encounter one -"a little more than kin and less than kind." - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - - -"Patience, and shuffle the cards," said the sleeper in the cave of -Montesinos; and an excellent good rule it was. Our cards want -shuffling; for the trumps have got packed. - -A little more than a fortnight after Chandos Winslow had left -Northferry for London, the party assembled at the house of Mr. Tracy -on the evening of a cold January day, consisted of two or three -persons besides his own family. There was the clergyman, Horace -Fleming. There was an old lady, who lived at about twenty miles' -distance, and spent the night there, when she dined--very rich, and -somewhat egotistical. There was her niece, an exceedingly pretty -little girl, without a penny, and totally dependent upon her bounty, -who sang beautifully, and was kept under strict rule by her aunt--a -sort of human singing bird, which old ladies will keep in cages now -and then; and "last, but not least," was Sir William Winslow, who had -come for two days, and had stayed seventeen. Not that he had entirely -passed his time at Northferry; for he had ridden over more than once -to Winslow Abbey, had met lawyers, and agents, and surveyors, and had -received a proposal and nearly concluded an agreement, for selling the -estate, land, park, and house to the law-agent of Viscount Overton, -acting on his lord's behoof. Some little matters remained to be -settled, but nothing of any great importance. The title was to be -taken as it stood; the money was ready to be paid; and the only -question was, whether the timber should be given at a round sum, or be -regularly surveyed and valued. It was altogether an excellent -arrangement; for, although perhaps the price offered was about five -thousand pounds less than the real worth of the property, yet it saved -Sir William the barbarism of pulling down the Abbey; and that was well -worth the money. - -These periods of his absence from Northferry, however, were very -short. Sir William brought them to a close as speedily as possible; -agreed to proposals, which nobody thought he would agree to, with a -facility most extraordinary; gave short answers and few words to every -one who applied to him on business, and rode back to Northferry as -soon as by any means he had scrambled through what he had got to do. - -Sir William seemed a changed man; and nobody could tell by what means -the alteration had been effected. Most people indeed seemed to like -him, and to wonder at the bad reports which had got about concerning -him; but the cause of this marvellous change must be explained. - -It was a change external, not internal. The man was the same; the -demeanour was altered. The same vehement passions were upon him which -had always moved him; but their operation had taken a different -direction. The first day he had passed at Mr. Tracy's, he had given -his arm to Emily, to take her in to dinner, and he had thought her -exceedingly beautiful. The high, pensive character of her countenance, -the voluptuous beauty of her form, the grace of all her movements, -even the coldness of her manner towards himself, had all -excited--however opposite in their apparent tendency--first -admiration, and then passion. He saw her every day; and, with the -uncontrollable impetuosity of his nature, he hurried on, pressing his -suit upon her, only restrained from declaring it openly by the extreme -brevity of their acquaintance. Every time he beheld her, his heart -seemed on fire; every time she spoke to him, her words were -enchantment that he could not resist; every time he touched her hand, -it sent the blood thrilling through his veins; and day by day, and -night by night he drank in draughts of love from her eyes, which -seemed to intoxicate and leave him no command over himself. It was, in -short, more like the passion of some warm eastern land than of our -cold climate; and there was no folly, hardly any impropriety, that he -would not have committed to call her his with as short a delay as -possible. - -Emily, indeed, shrank from his fierce and fiery advances, but as he -had yet said nothing, it was impossible to check them as far as she -could have wished. Still she retired from his pursuit; but her very -hesitation and withdrawal seemed to inspire him with fresh vehemence -and ardour; and the strong passion that he felt, all animal as it was, -seemed to grow more and more upon him hour after hour. Mr. Tracy saw -the whole with some uneasiness; for he saw no sign of his daughter -returning the feelings which she had evidently inspired in Sir William -Winslow. He was not at all a man inclined to sacrifice his daughter; -nor was he indeed one, in any ordinary circumstances, to thwart her -inclinations; nor did he feel at all sure, in the abstract, that Sir -William was the man he would himself have chosen for her. Not that the -latter made himself by any means disagreeable; far from it. The bird -plumes his feathers in the eyes of his mate; the tabby cat washes her -face, and smooths her fur for the eyes of her companion, according to -Pope; and the intensity of his feelings, by the unaffected course of -nature, caused Sir William Winslow to display all that was good or -bright in his character, all that might captivate or attract. He was -witty, he was brilliant, he was gay; and the depth of his passion gave -a vigour and profoundness to his thoughts, a figurative splendour to -his expressions, which might well have carried away any heart not -armed and prepared against him. He was certainly very handsome, too; -not that in features or in form he could compare with his brother; but -still, when Chandos was absent, one would hardly be found to say, that -they had seen a finer looking man. - -It was on the seventeenth evening of his stay there, that, with the -party I have mentioned, he was seated in the drawing-room, after -dinner. He had placed himself as near Emily as he could, but that was -not exactly at her side; for she had contrived, by an intuitive skill -in the science of defence, to get the old lady on one side of her, and -her uncle on the other. Mr. Tracy was talking to the pretty girl who -sang, and Horace Fleming--very wretched--was speaking in a low voice -to Rose. Rose was charity itself; and somehow, within the last two -months, her eyes had become wonderfully sharpened to what was going on -in people's hearts. What beautiful eyes they were, when she looked -kindly upon one; shining soft and yet bright, like the light of a -planet! - -What Mr. Fleming had said I did not hear; but Rose replied, "It will -be of no avail. He can never induce her to like him." - -They were the sweetest words Horace Fleming had ever heard; and with -courage renewed he went over, and standing before Miss Tracy, joined -in the conversation with quiet grace, which woke a world of fiends in -Sir William Winslow's bosom. - -Now, there was one curse upon Northferry, proceeding directly from the -original sin--the love of the fruit of the tree of knowledge. There -was a post from London twice a-day--excellent for commercial men; -sometimes good for solicitors; always agreeable to gossiping ladies, -young or old; but the greatest annoyance possible in a calm, quiet -little society, where all the business or agitation of the day is as -well got over at once. The second post at Northferry House arrived -about half-past nine; and the moment after Horace Fleming had left -Rose's side, the butler entered with a salver, upon which appeared an -enormous collection of letters, and a newspaper. Mr. Tracy took the -letters, and the General the newspaper. The former apologized for -looking at his correspondence, and the latter was besought by Rose to -see if any one was dead or married. - -Poor girl, she did not know what she asked. She was like one of those -who seek to look into fate, and find condemnation in the voice of the -oracle. - -General Tracy opened the paper, and turned to seek the important part -which gives so much satisfaction to all ladies; but as he ran his eye -down the columns, it was caught by the words "DUEL AT WIMBLEDON." He -was a soldier, be it remembered; so that he might be excused for -pausing. - -"Why, what is the matter, my dear uncle?" asked Emily. "Are you -appointed to the command of the forces in India?" - -"No, saucy flower," answered the old officer; "but here is something -in which we shall all take an interest, though a somewhat painful -one--a duel, Sir William, in which one of our acquaintances has -been engaged, with a relation of your own;" and he proceeded to -read,--"This morning, at an early hour, a hostile meeting took place, -near the old mill at Wimbledon, between Viscount Overton and Chandos -Winslow, Esq., younger brother of Sir William Winslow, Bart., of -Elmsly and Winslow Abbey, the consequences of which, we are sorry to -say, are likely to prove fatal"--Rose turned as pale as death; but her -uncle went on--"to the noble Viscount. The cause of quarrel, it -appears, would not admit of any apology on either side; and after -having in vain endeavoured to effect an accommodation on the field, -the seconds, Lord George Lumley and Colonel Sir Henry d'Estragon, -measured the ground; and at the first fire, Lord Overton fell, -severely wounded. The ball penetrated the right side, about six inches -below the clavicle, and is supposed to have lodged under the blade -bone, after having traversed the lungs. The noble Viscount was -promptly attended to by Mr. G--e, who was on the ground; but after -having staunched the effusion of blood, the eminent surgeon advised -the immediate removal of the patient to his house in ---- street, for -further treatment. After having ascertained that his opponent was not -actually dead, Mr. Winslow set out for the continent in a post-chaise -and four, which was in waiting, accompanied by Sir Henry d'Estragon; -and Lord George Lumley has also judged it expedient to absent himself -from London, till the fate of Lord Overton is ascertained. We regret -to say that the report in ---- street, is very unfavourable." - -"I thought my brother would not be a fortnight without quarrelling -with somebody," said Sir William Winslow. - -"Indeed, Sir William," said General Tracy, who did not love him; "what -made you so prejudge your brother? I have heard him very highly spoken -of." - -"A poet shall answer for me, General," replied Sir William Winslow; -who, though the old officer's words did not please him, was unwilling -to take offence at anything said by Emily's uncle;-- - - - "There is a history in all men's lives - Figuring the nature of the times deceased, - The which observed, a man may prophesy, - With a near aim, of the main chance of things - As yet to come to life, which in their seeds - And weak beginnings lie intreasured." - - -"I judge of my brother by the past, my dear Sir. But it is not for -brother to speak ill of brother; and, therefore, I can but say I am -very sorry for this affair, especially as Lord Overton is a very -popular man in London, and by no means quarrelsome." - -"He is not a very popular man in the country," said Rose Tracy, -warmly; "and what you have said, Sir William, is surely quite -condemnatory enough of your brother, without your adding any more." - -"We do not yet know the circumstances," said Mr. Fleming, in a mild -tone; "perhaps Mr. Winslow may not have been the aggressor." - -"Really Sir, I do not see why you should 'perhaps' the matter," -answered Sir William Winslow; "I must know my brother best, I imagine. -And I was not aware that clergymen advocated duelling." - -"Nor do they, Sir William," replied Fleming; "on that point, both were -equally in fault. But the question was, I think. Who was the aggressor -in the quarrel which led to so sad and criminal a result? You will -excuse me, however, for believing that brothers do not always know -brothers best. Brotherly love is not found in all families; and where -it does not exist, the judgment is apt to be prejudiced." - -"Sir, you are a clergyman," answered Sir William Winslow, with marked -emphasis, "and can venture to comment on family disagreements in a way -which others could not do." - -"I was utterly unaware that there were any," answered Horace Fleming; -"and sincerely beg your pardon for touching on a subject which, -whatever be the circumstances, must be deeply painful to any -right-feeling man. My observation was intended to be as wide and open -as the day, I assure you." - -"It was somewhat pointed for the breadth you give it," was the other's -reply; and turning away with a quivering lip, he crossed the room, and -spoke to the pretty little girl, who was seated not far from the small -table, where Mr. Tracy was reading his letters by a lamp. That -gentleman had not heard a word of all that passed regarding the duel -between his acquaintance, Lord Overton, and Chandos Winslow. There was -something in the very first letter he opened which took the colour -from his cheek; and the second and the third but blanched his face -still more. As the half light of the shaded lamp fell upon his -countenance, the deep line which had indented itself during the last -few minutes between his eyebrows looked like a dark gash, and every -furrow of the brow seemed doubly deep. General Tracy fixed his eyes -upon him with some anxiety; but Mr. Tracy communicated the contents of -his letters to no one; and as soon as Sir William Winslow crossed the -room, he rose and left it, carrying his papers in his hand. - -When he reached his library, where a light was always burning at that -time of night, he sunk into a chair, and suffered the letters to drop -upon the floor, murmuring, "Heaven and earth! This is destruction--The -North line, too! To be made responsible for debts I had no share in -contracting, simply because I let them advertise my name as a -director. The Junction down at nothing, and to be abandoned! The -Western branch rejected! Why two hundred thousand pounds will not -cover it!" and he pressed his hand upon his brow, as if to control the -turbulence of thought. - -Then he rose and paced the room rapidly, gazing wildly round him at -all the pomp and circumstance of wealth that surrounded him, and -comparing it bitterly with the future beggary which he saw impending. -But ere he had taken more than two or three turns, the door opened, -and his brother entered. - -"What is the matter, Arthur?" he said. "Something has agitated you -terribly." - -Mr. Tracy stooped, picked up the papers from the floor, and put them -in his brother's hands, with the simple word, "Read!" - -General Tracy did read, and his countenance fell for a moment. He -instantly recovered himself. "A heavy loss, Arthur," he said; "and -lost in a very foolish manner. I like plain, straight forward gaming -better than this; but still the affair might be worse. Do not give way -after this fashion. We must meet the matter as it can best be met. -There is enough between you and me to cover more than this; and you -know, my dear Arthur, I have none but you and the two sweet girls--and -that little devil of a boy. A hundred a-year he must have; that I have -settled in my own mind. The girls must have their fortunes. That must -be done; but still the two estates will bear more weight than all -these sums; and if not, there is my pay. Two old men do not need much, -Arthur; and we shall have enough for a beefsteak and a bottle of wine, -notwithstanding." - -Mr. Tracy pressed his brother's hand, murmuring, "Oh, Walter, how can -I involve you in my ruin? Besides, large sums will be required -immediately, or I shall be disgraced." - -"Poo, poo!" said General Tracy; "no man is ruined so long as he has a -bed to sleep on, clothes to wear, a house to cover him, and food to -eat. We shall want none of these things, Arthur. We shall be as rich -as Sandy Woodyard, who is reckoned very well to do; and, as to raising -large sums, that will be easily done, without any loss of time. But -your thoughts are all in confusion with this unexpected stroke. -Cast the whole from your mind for to-night; come back into the -drawing-room, and do not let either the baronet or the parson see that -you are troubled; sleep quietly over the affair, and we will arrange -the whole to-morrow. I can raise seventy or eighty thousand pounds at -a day's notice. You can double that; and all I can say, my dear -brother, is, that, barring a fair provision for the two girls, I care -not a rush what becomes of the rest. Besides, some of the shares are -worth something. It is not all lost." - -"Heaven forbid!" answered Mr. Tracy; "but the actual loss is immense; -more than you know, Walter." - -"Oh, no! I see it all," replied the General, glancing again at the -letters. "But it is not so bad. It will be easily managed. The first -sight of bad tidings is always through a magnifying glass. The -spectacles will have fallen off your nose before to-morrow; and in the -mean time shut your eyes to the whole concern. Come along; the people -will think it strange if we are both absent together any longer; and -the dear girls will think it strange, which is worse." - -Mr. Tracy suffered himself to be led back to the drawing-room; and -there, by a great effort, so far conquered the busy and rebellious -thoughts within, that his guests did not discover any difference of -manner. His daughters did, indeed; and both Emily and Rose retired to -bed that night thoughtful and sad; for they were well aware that their -father's friendship for Lord Overton was not strong enough for the -intelligence of his being wounded to cause the degree of agitation -they beheld. Rose, too, had her own particular share of sorrow and -anxiety, and her cheek was pale when she arose the next morning, as if -she had known little rest during the night. - -With Mr. Tracy, the effect of a night's consideration--for it -certainly was not a night's sleep that he obtained--was to plunge him -into despair. The first blow had been stunning. As not unfrequently -happens with corporeal injuries, it had for a time crushed out the -full perception of the wound; but when he thought of the immediate -pressure, and the future beggary--when he looked all the difficulties -and disgraces which surrounded him in the face, as they stared at him -through his bed curtains, in the midst of the night, his heart sunk -low, low; and his brain had well nigh given way under the anguish of -mind he endured. He was up early the next morning, with the letters in -his hand, and pen and ink beside him, calculating the full amount of -his disaster. It would be tedious to the reader to enter into details -or explanations on the subject--how it happened, or by what means it -was brought about. Suffice it, that he found his ultimate loss would -probably be so large, as to compel the sale of all his estates. That, -if still willing to assist him, his brother must sell, or mortgage -deeply, the family property; and--a matter of much more immediate -concern--that the sum of one hundred and fifty thousand pounds must be -raised within a fortnight, to save him from disgrace. He had taken up -money largely, which must be instantly repaid; and when he thought of -all the tedious processes of the law--the impossibility of hurrying a -transaction of such magnitude--the few persons who were capable, or -would be willing to lend such a sum without full investigation of the -security--the utter improbability of his obtaining it in time, his -brain whirled, and in imagination he saw himself torn away from his -luxurious home, a beggar, a bankrupt, and a prisoner. - -He gazed wildly at the window; his daughter Emily passed across from -one green-house to the other--a vision of loveliness. "Better die," -muttered Mr. Tracy, with his thoughts all whirling; "better die at -once!" and he reached out his hand to the pistols which lay upon the -top of the scrutoire. He looked at them for a moment, laid them down -beside him on the table, and pressed his hand upon his brow. Someone -knocked, and, without waiting for an answer, came in. General Tracy -looked at his brother, advanced to the table, put the pistols in his -pocket, and rung the bell sharply. "Arthur," he said, "you are not -well. We must have the doctor.--Go down immediately to Mr. Woodyard," -he continued, when the servant appeared, "and tell him I should like -to see him without a moment's delay." - -In half an hour more, Mr. Tracy was bled copiously, and found instant -relief. - -"Good God!" he said, in a low tone, turning towards his brother, who -was the only person in the room besides the surgeon and himself, "what -was I going to do." - -"Now what the devil is all this, Sir," said the surgeon, who had been -perfectly quiet, and even tender with his old friend, till he saw that -he was freed from the imminent danger which had menaced him, but then -instantly resumed his rude familiarity. "You have been about some -cursed folly, Tracy, and burnt your fingers. I know you--I know you! -Every man has some point on which he is a fool; and the wiser he is on -others, the greater the fool he is on that. I can guess what it is; so -there is no use of denying it. That infernal blackguard Scriptolemus -Bond, was not with you a whole morning for nothing, about a fortnight -ago. He has gone to smash; all his bubbles have burst, and he is off -to America with all he could collect. Thank God, he did not get a -farthing from me, though he tried hard; but I know he took you in to -the tune of many thousand pounds; for he told me so, and showed me -some of the drafts." - -"That is not the worst of it, my good friend," answered Mr. Tracy, in -a low tone; "there is not one line in which I have taken shares--and I -am sorry to say I have done so to a large extent--which has not fallen -almost to the ground." - -"Upon my word, you must be a very unlucky fellow, not to have one -folly escape without punishment," answered the surgeon. But General -Tracy interfered, saying, "There, there, let him alone, Woodyard. He -is not in a fit state of health or mind to be railed at." - -"Do you suppose you know better than I do?" asked Sandy Woodyard. "You -are a conceited old gentleman, upon my word. Stick to your own tools, -General. I am determined I will know all about this business; for I -must, and will be informed of what is pressing on my patient's mind." - -"It is," replied Mr. Tracy, in a slow, thoughtful tone, "that within -one fortnight, my good friend, I have to pay nearly one hundred and -fifty thousand pounds; and forty-nine thousand pounds thereof within -four days, without time to make the necessary arrangements, almost -without time for thought. I wrote up to sell shares, to meet the -latter sum, at whatever might be the loss; and the answer was that -letter, telling me that the shares I mentioned were a mere drug--worth -nothing in the market. Is not that enough to press hard upon any man's -mind, Woodyard." - -"No," answered the surgeon, bluntly, "not unless he be a fool. You've -plenty to meet the demand. You may not be as rich as you have been; -but you have chosen to have your dance, and so you must pay the piper. -As to the forty-nine thousand pounds, you can get somebody to advance -it. If nobody else can be found, I will." - -"You!" said Mr. Tracy. - -"You, Woodyard!" cried the General. - -"Oh, yes--why not?" replied the surgeon; "I'm a poor devil; but I have -got something, and I have made a little more by these same -speculations which have burnt your fingers, Tracy; only you see I -never ventured upon any thing that was not sure--I touched nothing -that was not going--I did not sow a field that was not ploughed and -harrowed. You have nothing to do, therefore, but to let me know the -day, and give me a little bill of sale of your personals and timber to -the amount advanced, and the money shall be ready. Come, come!--do not -lose heart. You will get somebody to advance the other money wanted; -and in the mean time, if I were the General, I would run up to London, -and look after these shares and scrip. I do not believe a word of some -of them not bringing in money yet." - -Mr. Tracy pressed his hand for his only reply; but he felt deeply the -worthy man's kindness, the more, perhaps, from the blunt way in which -it was offered. - -"There, now, keep yourself quiet, and all will go well," continued -Sandy Woodyard, taking up his hat and cane, and bending his steps -homeward. But Mr. Tracy could not do what the surgeon directed. What -man of lively imagination can ever keep himself quiet when danger is -still impending over him? Who but Washington Irving's Dutchman could -ever batten down the hatches, and sleep out the storm. Mr. Tracy felt -that the storm was not passed yet. The good surgeon had afforded -unexpected relief, it is true; but still the enormous sum to be paid -within one fortnight, without any preparation for it, rose up to his -eyes like the rock of adamant before the ship of Sinbad the sailor; -and he asked himself again and again how it was to be raised, where it -was to be found. There was no answer. Nevertheless, he assumed a -tranquillity which he did not feel; and assuring his brother that he -was better, and his mind relieved of its greatest burden, he went in -with him to breakfast. - -Rose was pale; but Emily seemed to have had bright dreams, for seldom -had her beauty been more resplendent. Sir William Winslow sat near and -gazed at her from time to time, with eyes full of passion; and as soon -as breakfast was over, he requested to speak a few words with Mr. -Tracy alone. That gentleman had not yet got his newspapers, and, to -say the truth, was anxious in no light degree to look at the share -list; but he courteously acceded at once, and led the way to his -library. The conference was long; and when the young baronet came out, -his eyes were sparkling and his air triumphant. He ordered his horses -instantly, to ride over to Winslow Abbey; but while he waited at the -door for their coming, he murmured, "She must be mine--she will never -hesitate when her father's safety depends upon it!" - -At a furious pace, up hill and down dale, rode Sir William Winslow, to -his old family property, half-killing the groom behind him; and as -soon as he arrived, he asked if Mr. Roberts or Mr. Grubbup, the -law-agent of Lord Overton, had been there. - -"Mr. Roberts hasn't been since Thursday last, Sir William," replied -Mrs. Garbett, who opened the hall doors; "but the other gentleman with -the queer name, is in the drawing-room, waiting for you, Sir." - -Sir William strode to the drawing-room, horsewhip in hand, as if -meditating mischief; but his salutation of the man of law was, on the -contrary, quite condescending; "Well, Grubbup," he said, "I have just -heard sad news of Lord Overton and my mad brother Chandos." - -"Ay, very sad indeed, Sir William," said Lord Overton's agent; "but I -suppose, of course, Sir, you do not take up the quarrel of your -brother in a matter of business." - -"Oh, certainly not, Mr. Grubbup," replied Sir William. "I do not take -up his quarrels at all. But what I wished principally to know was -this. How will the transaction between us be affected by the state of -Lord Overton. He was not expected to live, I understand?" - -"He is better, Sir William, he is better," answered the man of law. -"There is every hope of his doing well. But even were it not so, I -took a little precaution, luckily, after our last conference, with the -approval of Mr. Roberts, which would render the arrangement binding -upon his heirs, exors, and admors. I drew up this agreement of -purchase and sale, which on Saturday last, not ten minutes before he -went to the opera, I got him to sign. Nothing is wanting but your own -signature, Sir William, and the transaction is complete." - -"With the exception of the payment of the money," said Sir William -Winslow; "but that is a very important part, Mr. Grubbup, especially -at the present moment." - -"But, Sir William," said the agent, "you know the timber--and it is -only usual--" - -"All very well, my good Sir," rejoined the young baronet, whose eyes -had been running over the paper, and who assumed a very decided, not -to say domineering tone; "but I see the question of the timber is -provided for. It is, by this document, to be taken at a valuation, -although I fixed my own valuation before. Let that pass, however; I -will not contest that point. In regard to the payment, I am decided: I -will sign no paper till I am made sure that, by the fifth of next -month, at least one half of the purchase-money shall be paid into my -hands. If you do not make me perfectly sure of that, I will dispose of -the property at once to some one else. You know I have another offer." - -Mr. Grubbup looked amazed and confounded; but Sir William Winslow -convinced him he was in earnest, by informing him that he had, in -fact, need of the sum of one hundred and twenty thousand pounds, on -the day named. The man of law was terribly afraid of losing all the -various comfortable pickings, which men of law get out of such -transactions, if he did not comply; but, after a little bush-fighting, -he found means to satisfy Sir William Winslow that all he desired -should be done; and the baronet rode away with a feeling of triumphant -joy in his heart, at the idea of soon possessing her who had inspired -him with a passion which deserved hardly any other epithet than that -of _fierce_. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - - -It was the evening of a beautiful day in February, when Chandos -Winslow returned by the lanes at the back of Northferry house towards -his gardener's cottage. The scene and the hour were peaceful; and -their tranquillity overspread his heart as if a balm were poured upon -it. Frosts had departed to the pole. A west wind, slightly veering to -the south, had brought the breath of summer from the distant lands. -The early-loving thrush was singing his first sweet song upon the top -of a bare tree. It was very pleasant. Chandos wished he had been born -a gardener. Nevertheless, he hurried his pace; for he had a rose to -tend. He fancied--he hoped that she might soon be by the little basin -of gold and silver fish; but he had only two ways of approaching it: -one by the gate near his own house, one by that at the other end of -the grounds, which would have brought him before the windows of the -mansion. He went into the cottage then for the key; and there good -dame Humphreys detained him, impatient, for a few minutes, telling him -how kind Miss Rose had been, coming down often to see little Tim; and -how the boy had been sent daily to the school in the village, from -which he had not yet come back, though it was late; and how the -gentleman, who had been there with him one night, (_i. e_. Lockwood,) -had been there the night before, and again, not ten minutes before, -asking about him, and exceedingly anxious to see him, and very much -provoked to find he had not come back; and how he had gone away -grumbling and mumbling, as the old woman called it, and saying to -himself, that as he, Mr. Acton, was not there, he must do it himself, -for there was no time to be lost. - -Chandos did not mark her much; but merely telling her, if Lockwood -returned, to say that he would be back in half-an-hour, he took up a -light Dutch hoe, which stood in the corner of the cottage parlour, and -went out to the garden. - -With a hand trembling with that sweet expectation which sometimes -shakes the powerful frame even more than the feeble one, he opened the -garden gate and went in. Close to the entrance he met one of the -labourers in the garden, who wished him good evening, and said he was -glad to see him, for the busy time was coming on. The man was going -home for the night, and Chandos soon got rid of him, and of one of the -boys who followed; for the sky was already very grey, and he feared -that any delay might deprive him of the sweet moments coveted. He felt -sure he should find Rose there. The very air seemed to breathe of -love. She could not be absent. - -He was right. Rose was beside the marble basin, but her eyes were -dropping tears into it. He leaned the hoe against one of the pillars, -and her hand was soon in his. Chandos could not resist the impulse to -hold her for one moment to his heart. - -"Oh, do not; do not, Chandos," she said. "I have much, very much to -tell you; and it is all sad." - -"Speak, dear Rose," he answered; "let me hear it at once. Tell me -everything; tell me anything but that you are not mine--that you are -to be another's." - -"Oh, no; it is not that," she said, with a faint smile. "I have not -time to tell you to-night, for you see it is growing quite dusk. Come -to-morrow. I must see you--I must speak with you." - -"Oh, stay one minute!" cried her lover, detaining her; "let me know -something, at least, of what it is that grieves you--but a few words, -dear Rose." - -"They must be very sad ones," she answered. "My father is ruined, -Chandos. My poor sister, dear, dear Emily, has consented, to save him -from immediate destruction, to wed, with terrible haste, a man she -does not, cannot love--your own brother, Chandos--and, oh!--what is -worse than all--I fear, I am sure, she loves another;" and Rose wept -bitterly. - -Chandos was silent for an instant, holding her hand in his, and gazing -upon her with love and sympathy; but the next instant he heard voices -speaking, and steps advancing, in the narrow winding walk behind. - -"Good Heaven, it is your brother!" cried Rose. "I hear his terrible -voice. Fly! fly! Where can I escape him?" - -"Up that walk, dear girl," replied Chandos. "I will easily avoid him. -I will leap the hedge there. But let me see you safe first." - -"No, no! Go at once, go at once," she cried; and Chandos, in obedience -to her wish, passed through between the pillars, and leaped the low -hedge which bordered a haw-haw that divided the grounds of Northferry -from the neighbouring fields. He had, at first, proposed to cross the -next enclosure at once, and return to his cottage; but it was lighter -beyond the precincts of the garden, than under the shadow of the -trees. He did not wish his brother to find him there; he wished to -assure himself that Rose got away unseen, and he remained on the other -side of the hedge, which, as he stood with his feet at the bottom of -the haw-haw, overtopped his head by about nine inches. He had no idea -that he would be witness to more than his brother passing by along the -walk, which approached within about ten paces of the haw-haw on one -side, and which skirted the little factitious ruin above the -fish-pond, within a foot or two, on the other. Had he had an idea of -the possibility even of his becoming an eves-dropper, he would not -have hesitated, but crossed the field at once; but the path was, as I -have said, at ten paces' distance, and unless the persons walking -along it spoke very loud, it was impossible for any one in the haw-haw -to hear more than an occasional word, unless the passers-by paused. -Thus much is necessary to the character of Chandos. He paused, but it -was to conceal himself, not to listen. - -The moment after he had leapt the hedge, Sir William Winslow appeared -at the turn of the little path; but he was preceded a step by another. -His brother's figure Chandos recognised at once, notwithstanding the -growing obscurity; but, for an instant, he could not distinguish who -was his companion; for the short, slight-made man, who accompanied the -baronet, was wrapped in one of those loose formless sort of coats, -called paletôts. The next moment, however, the sound of their voices, -raised exceedingly high, and in angry tones, reached him as he stood -and gazed through the hedge; and he recognized that of Mr. Roberts. -None of the words were distinct; but it was evident that both were -highly excited; and, by the sharp and vehement gestures of Roberts, so -unlike his usual, quiet, and staid demeanour, and by the rapid pace at -which he walked, with the baronet following, Chandos judged that the -good steward was endeavouring to escape from provocation beyond -endurance, even to his tranquil and equable disposition. Just as they -came up to the little Greek temple, which had been built over the -fish-pond--that is to say, at the nearest point of the walk to the -spot where Chandos was concealed--Sir William Winslow laid a grasp -upon Roberts's collar, as if to stop him in his rapid advance, -exclaiming at the same moment, "Damn you, Sir, what do you mean?" - -Roberts instantly shook off his grasp, and whirled round confronting -him. At the same moment he exclaimed vehemently, "I will not, Sir -William Winslow! If you will have it, I believe you burnt it." - -The baronet instantly struck him with his fist, exclaiming, "You -damned rascal!" The next instant his eye seemed to light upon the -Dutch hoe, which Chandos had left leaning against the pillar. He -snatched it up, struck the steward a violent blow on the head with it, -which brought him instantly to the ground, and added another as he -fell. - -Chandos sprang up, struggled over the hedge, and ran forward. But his -brother, hearing some one coming, darted away up the shrubbery walks, -and was out of sight in a moment. Kneeling down by poor Roberts's -side, the young gentleman raised his head. But what was his horror and -distress, when he found that the two middle fingers of his left hand -rested in a deep indentation in the skull, while a gaping wound in the -scalp, cut by the iron of the hoe, was pouring forth blood profusely! -Bending closely down, he saw a portion of the brain mingled with the -gray hair; and, with a feeling of sickening horror at his heart, he -laid the body gently on the ground again, and gazed at it for several -minutes, as if the sight had turned him into stone. - -Oh, what a dark and terrible moment was that! What a whirlpool of -horrible thoughts did his brain become! What anguish of mind--what -wavering hesitation of purpose--what indignation--what sorrow did he -not feel! The first impulse was to run and call for assistance; but -then he shook his head, and murmured "He is dead! he is dead! No aid -can ever bring him back to life." Bending down again, he pressed his -hand upon the wrist, and then upon the heart. There was no pulsation. -All was still for ever! The complicated machine was broken, never to -be repaired again. The lamp drowned out, not to be re-lighted. - -What should he do? How should he act? He had seen an honest, upright, -noble-minded man murdered before his eyes: but the murderer was his -own brother! They had lain in the same womb; they had hung at the same -breast; they had joyed in the same smiles; the same blood flowed in -their veins;--and yet one was a murderer, the other, the witness of -the crime. It was a terrible struggle. Duty called upon him to -denounce the criminal; indignation prompted him to the same course. By -that very brother's acts, brotherly love had long seemed extinguished -between them. Yet Chandos could not make up his mind to be his -brother's accuser, to give him up to trial and to death. - -"I cannot--I cannot," he said, after a long and painful revery. "Poor -Roberts, I can do thee no good; and I cannot be a destroying angel to -my own race. 'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord, I will repay;'" and, -turning away from the fatal scene, he hurried back to the small gate -which led out towards his own cottage. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - - -"Who was that I saw crossing the lawn a little while ago?" said Mr. -Tracy, speaking to his valet, who came in to assist him in dressing -for dinner. - -"I saw a gentleman at the door asking for Acton, Sir," replied the -servant; "and, as one of the men met him coming back this afternoon, I -told the person that he would most likely find him in the garden; for -he seemed quite a gentleman, and in a great hurry to speak with him. I -hope I did not do wrong, Sir?" - -"Oh dear, no," answered Mr. Tracy; "I am glad to hear Acton has come -back. Let him know to-morrow morning, that I want to talk to him." - -Mr. Tracy went on calmly with his dressing; and when he had done, as -the second bell had rung, he took up a book and read. He was very -grave. Thought was importunate; for, though he had freed himself from -present difficulties, yet the future was dark and menacing; and, at -what a price had he purchased temporary relief? His daughter's -happiness--he felt it--had been the sacrifice. He saw that she did -not, that she could not love Sir William Winslow; and yet the baronet, -bending all the energies of his mind to the speedy gratification of -the passion which moved him, had skilfully contrived, with as little -appearance of selfish policy as possible, to make the sum which was -immediately necessary to Mr. Tracy dependent upon the time of the -union of his daughter with himself. Without entering into long -explanations, he had stated that he had the power to settle that sum -upon his wife; implying, untruly, that he had not the power of lending -it under other circumstances. Mr. Tracy was obliged to accept his -terms without inquiry. Emily yielded with despair in her heart, and -dark forebodings in her mind. She had but one consolation--one -support--that, by the sacrifice of all that was most dear, she was -saving her father. She repeated it to herself a thousand times a-day; -and kept it ever before her in the weary and wearing hours of the -night. It was the only means she had of keeping the bitter anguish of -her spirit from bursting forth before every eye. Do what she would, it -did sometimes appear: and Mr. Tracy felt the silent reproach, and -dared not pause and think; but filled every moment with some -occupation, however trifling, which might withdraw his mind from the -terrible consciousness, that he was sacrificing his child. - -When the bell rang, he walked down to the drawing-room with a quick -step. His two daughters were there alone--Emily exceedingly pale, but -calm, though very grave; Rose striving for cheerfulness with an effort -almost hysterical. The General was absent in London. Sir William -Winslow was not yet down, though he had only arrived that morning from -town, and might be supposed to feel eagerness to be with his betrothed -as much as possible. Five, ten minutes passed; dinner was announced; -and then some more time went by; till, at length, Mr. Tracy sent up a -servant to inform his guest that they waited for him; and in a few -minutes more, Sir William presented himself. His appearance, however, -struck everybody as very strange. His face was usually florid; his -manner calm and resolute; his tone quick and decided,--but now his -cheek was like a sheet of gray paper; his eyes wandering and haggard; -his step vacillating; his tone wavering, and his words confused. He -apologized for the tardiness of his appearance, saying, that he had -felt fatigued with his journey, and somewhat ill, and had fallen -asleep. Emily expressed no concern or sympathy, though his excuses -were principally addressed to her. They had had a full explanation -together. He knew the terms on which he obtained her hand; and she did -not wish him to suppose her moved by feelings she did not experience. -It was her person he sought to possess, not her love. That he -obtained; she could give no more. - -Mechanically he offered her his arm, to take her in to dinner; sat -beside her, and talked. It was strange, rambling conversation; -sometimes distilled drop by drop, as if each word were the last he -would ever speak; sometimes frightfully rapid. They formed a strange -contrast, he and Emily--she in her calm taciturnity; he in his -perturbed, unequal eloquence. Yet there were strong feelings at the -heart of both: hers high, grand, ennobling; a battle fought, a -struggle striven, a victory won over self:--his turbulent, agitating, -oppressive; a fierce contest, a terrible strife, a losing battle -against remorse and dismay. There was nothing harsh, nothing resisting -in her demeanour. It was all done; the combat of the mind was -over--the assent was given: she yielded herself to the knife: she was -Jephthah's daughter in the mountains, the expiation of her father's -folly, prepared or preparing for the sacrifice. She was cold. How -could she be otherwise? But there was no harshness. - -He, on the contrary, was strangely excited. Every time the door -opened, he turned round with a start, and looked with straining eyes -behind him. When the butler asked in a whisper of Mr. Tracy, what -wines he should set upon the table after dinner--a question he had -forgotten to put before--Sir William Winslow listened with all his -ears to catch the sounds, as if they bore matter of life and death to -him; and when Mr. Tracy answered aloud, "Some red hermitage and -claret," he applied himself to talk again with exceeding vehemence. - -The shadow of the dead haunted him. The gaunt spectre of Remorse was -ever before his eyes. - -Doubt too--terrible, vague, cloudy, indefinite doubt, the most -oppressive of all states of mind, the most fearful form of -Nemesis--hung over him like a brooding fury. "Was he really dead?" he -asked himself; "Was the man slain?" He had fallen very heavily. That -last blow had been followed by a sound strange and frightful: the -cracking of solid bone mingled with a deathly groan. The eyes--he had -seen them even in the dim twilight--had swum mortally in the sinking -head. There had been a gasp which he did not like to think of, a dire -clutching after breath of lungs that would receive it no more. What he -would have given to creep quietly and silently down those wintry -walls, and look at the spot where he had left him! to feel about with -his hands in the darkness, and ascertain if the body was still there! -But he sat chained to his seat in marble terror. He dared not turn his -eyes towards the side where the deed had been done; he hardly dared to -think of it, lest his thoughts unwittingly should find a tongue to -bear witness against him. Yet he remembered that no one had seen the -deed, as far as he knew; that he had met the object of his crime by -accident, as he was returning to the house after a short walk in the -grounds; that he had encountered no one by the way, either going or -coming; that he had even gone out of the house by one of the -conservatories, which led directly to a close and narrow walk, so that -none could tell he had ever set his foot across the threshold. All -these seemed comfortable reflections; but yet, strange to say, they -brought neither comfort nor assurance. There is a consciousness that -murder has its mysterious witnesses, which ever sits heavily on the -felon's spirit. Why, he knew not, but he felt detected, even while he -strove to prove to himself that detection was impossible. Oh, crime is -a terrible thing! - -Nevertheless the whole of dinner-time passed over quietly: there was -nothing took place to cause alarm; and when Emily and Rose left the -table, Mr. Tracy remarked, "Sir William, you do not seem well. If you -would take my advice, you would send for our worthy surgeon, Mr. -Woodyard, and adopt some precautionary measures. I think you must have -overfatigued yourself." - -"I had a hard day's work in London, yesterday," replied his guest, -"running after those lawyers all day long; and I travelled all night. -I did not sleep either, though I usually sleep as well in a carriage -as a bed. Perhaps I am a little heated. My face is flushed, is it -not?" - -It was as pale as death. - -By Mr. Tracy's persuasion the surgeon was sent for; and was soon in -the house. - -"Well, what is the matter with you?" he asked, as soon as the young -baronet was pointed out as his patient; and, pressing his hand upon -the pulse, he stared into Sir William's face, as if he wished to put -him out of countenance. - -"I do not know, doctor," replied the other. "I do not feel well--am -fatigued--have got a head-ache--my temples throb; and my thoughts are -somewhat confused." - -"You have got something on your mind," said Sandy Woodyard, thinking -of Emily, whom the old man loved dearly, and did not like to see -sacrificed; "your conscience is not quiet, I should think--this is all -mental." - -"What do you mean, Sir?" asked Sir William Winslow, fiercely; his -pride and his courage coming arm in arm to his aid the moment he was -attacked in front. - -"I mean just what I say," replied the surgeon, nothing daunted; "there -is no sign in the pulse or the temperature of the skin, to show any -corporeal ailment. It must be mental; and the best thing to prevent -the mind acting too strongly on the body, will be to let you blood. -Bring me a basin and a good stout stick, flunky." - -Sir William Winslow submitted willingly enough, though he hated the -old man mortally, for words which touched rudely but unwittingly on -the deep concealed wound. Sandy Woodyard made him grasp the stick -tightly in his hand, pierced the arm, and as the blood spirted forth, -indulged in a grim smile, muttering. "Ay, black--damned black--black -blood as ever I saw--very needful to draw this off--we must have a -good drop!" - -And a good drop he did certainly take; for, whether, from judging it -really necessary, or from a slight touch of malice, he bled the -baronet till he fainted. Sir William was carried to his room, and soon -brought to consciousness again; but good Mr. Woodyard was not aware -that, in one respect, at least, he had conferred a favour, by -affording a fair excuse to his patient for not joining the party below -any more that night. Even that was a relief; but it was not till the -next morning that Sir William Winslow was aware of all he had escaped. - -It was the custom at Northferry, for the under gardener, every night, -before he retired to rest, to perambulate the grounds, and then to let -loose some large dogs, serving as very necessary guards to a place -which, by its open boundaries, and solitary situation, was much -exposed to depredation. On the night in question, about ten o'clock, -he sallied forth, when the moon was just rising, faint, dim, and -watery, as she not unfrequently appears after one of those fine, warm, -unseasonable, February days, with a few thin lines of gray and white -cloud drawn across her sickly disk. She gave a good deal of light, -however; and he took his way along the paths, rather enjoying the walk -than feeling it a burthensome task. When he approached the confines of -the grounds, on the field side, and came near the little temple so -often mentioned, he saw, by the beams of the moon, something lying, -partly on the path, partly off, like a large dog curled up to spring -at him; and he paused in doubt and some alarm. The object remained -quite still; and drawing slowly nearer, he found it was the body of a -man. He touched the hand; it was deadly cold; and in terror and -consternation he ran straight across the lawns back to the house. -Servants and lights soon followed him down to the spot; and -consternation and horror reached their height, when it was found, that -the very person who a few hours before had been asking for the -head-gardener, at the mansion, had been murdered in the grounds. The -body was already quite stiff; but it was taken up and carried into one -of the tool-houses, while some of the people ran back to give Mr. -Tracy information of the event. The rest gathered round the corpse as -it lay upon a gardener's bench; and many were the comments made--some -ridiculous and almost laughable, some sad, some sublime in their -simplicity. - -"Well, it is a queer thing to see a dead man, any how," said one of -the spectators, in a very low tone; "they all look so dull like." - -"Poor man! I wonder what his wife is thinking about now," said -another. - -"Ah! he saw the sun go down that will rise again to-morrow as bright -as ever, and he see it no more," was the observation of an old -servant. "Well, my night will soon come too. God send it be not a -bloody one, like his!" - -Mr. Tracy was soon upon the spot; and walking up to the body, he took -a lantern from the hands of one of the men and held it near the -corpse, before he asked for any further information than he had -received by the way. - -"I have seen that face before," he said, after considering the -countenance of the dead man for a moment. "It surely is Mr. Roberts, -the steward and agent of Sir Harry Winslow. Yes, it certainly is his -face. Here, come forward, Taylor, and bear witness what we find upon -the body. This is a most strange and terrible affair. I feel almost -sure that this is poor Roberts, and the fact of his being killed in -these grounds is most extraordinary." - -The man he spoke to was his butler, and advancing to his master's -side, he held the lantern while Mr. Tracy examined the contents of the -dead man's pockets. The first thing that was taken out seemed to -settle the identity at once. It was a letter, which had been opened, -addressed to "Richard Roberts, Esquire, Winslow Abbey;" and although -Mr. Tracy proceeded to read it, in search of any information which -could lead to a discovery of the murderer, it may be unnecessary to -give the contents in this place, as they have been already laid before -the reader. The epistle, in short, was that which Chandos had written -the night before, after having quitted the park; but to Mr. Tracy's -mind it conveyed no hint of the state of the case. He only saw, that -Mr. Winslow had written somewhat sharply, and he thought, "The poor -young man will regret this when he finds what a sad fate has overtaken -an old and faithful servant of his family." - -He handed over the letter, when he had read it, to the butler, with a -pencil, saying, "Mark it;" and then proceeded with his examination. -Nothing had been taken from the body. The watch was there; the purse -was safe in the pocket, though it contained a good deal of money. The -pocket-book, with various papers, receipts, bills, promissory notes, -memoranda, and letters, was also there. Even a pair of silver -spectacles, in a morocco-leather case, had not been disturbed in the -waistcoat pocket; and it became apparent that robbery had not been the -object, or that the assassin had been disturbed before he had time to -reap the fruits of his crime. - -The next object of examination was the exact spot where the body had -been found; and Mr. Tracy proceeded thither with the under-gardener, -followed by all the rest. There were but few traces of feet, for the -gravel walk was hard; but there was a quantity of blood where the poor -man had lain; and while Mr. Tracy was looking narrowly at the place, -one of the men cried, "Here is what did it, Sir;" and at the same time -took up the Dutch hoe which was lying on the grass hard by. On holding -the lantern to the tool, some blood and gray hair was found upon the -blunt edge, and at one corner; and Mr. Tracy ordered it to be -conveyed, exactly as it was, to the tool-house, whither, after having -concluded his personal inspection of the spot, he returned himself. He -there paused and meditated, and at length said to the under-gardener, -"Go and call Mr. Acton hither." - -In a few minutes, Chandos was in the tool-house. He was perfectly calm -and grave, for he had had time to think and to determine upon his -conduct. - -"Here is a very terrible affair, Acton," said Mr. Tracy. "This poor -gentleman has been murdered in the grounds, close to the fish-pond. He -asked at the house for you, it seems; and was directed to seek you in -the garden. Look at him close, and tell me who he is." - -"I do not need to look nearer, Sir," replied Chandos, gazing firmly on -the corpse; "it is the body of poor Mr. Roberts, the late Sir Harry -Winslow's agent--as good a man as ever lived." - -"Did he find you in the garden?" asked Mr. Tracy. - -"No, Sir," replied Chandos; "I quitted the garden after speaking a -few words to Miss Rose Tracy, by the basin, as she was feeding the -gold-fish." - -"That must have been very nearly at the time he was seeking you," said -Mr. Tracy. "I saw him cross the lawn, and I saw my daughter return -about ten minutes afterwards. Did you quit the garden immediately -after you saw her?" - -"Immediately," answered Chandos. - -"Do you know whose hoe that is?" inquired Mr. Tracy, pointing to the -one that lay by the dead man. - -"Mine, Sir," replied Chandos at once; "I left it leaning against the -pillar." And, taking it up, he added, as he looked at it, "The murder -must have been committed with this." - -"Leave it there," said Mr. Tracy. "Pray what did Mr. Roberts want with -you?" - -"Of that I can have no notion, Sir," was the young gentleman's reply. -"I did not even know that he had been seeking me, till you informed me -of the fact just now." He saw that some suspicion was beginning to -attach itself to him; but Chandos Winslow was not a man to suffer -himself to feel personal alarm easily, and he remained so calm and -self-possessed, that Mr. Tracy felt that some vague doubts which he -had entertained had done him injustice. - -"This affair," he said, at lengthy "is as strange as terrible, and -must be immediately inquired into further. Taylor, you remain here -with one of the men till the constable can be brought up from the -village. Then give the body and the hoe into his charge, and render -him every assistance he may require; but nothing must be taken away or -altered till the coroner, to whom I shall write immediately, arrives. -Let everybody, too, avoid the spot where the crime was committed, in -order that any traces which may perhaps be apparent to-morrow, though -we have not been able to find them to-night, may not be effaced." - -"It may perhaps be better, Sir," said Chandos, "to keep the door by my -cottage locked. Then the men will not pass that way to their work. -Here is my key; I can go round by the house. Sandes has also a key, -which can be fetched from him, if you like." - -"Do you know when Sandes left the garden?" asked Mr. Tracy quickly, as -if a new thought had struck him. - -"A little before myself," answered Chandos. "I met him and his boy in -the walk going homeward." - -"And are you certain this crime had not been committed before he went -home?" was the next inquiry. - -"Perfectly, Sir," said Chandos; "for I must have seen the body if it -lay by the fish-pond, as you said just now. Sandes must have been out -of the grounds, if he went straight forward, before I reached the -basin." - -"It is all very strange!" said Mr. Tracy; and, taking the key, he left -the spot, followed close by Chandos, and some of the servants. No -further conversation took place, however; and the young gentleman, -with a feeling of deep gloom, returned to his cottage, leaving fate to -direct the course of events which had commenced so terribly. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - - -It was half-past eleven when Mr. Tracy returned; and Emily and Rose -had retired to rest. He had been called out of the room on business, -and neither of the two girls had an idea that anything painful had -occurred which might render their waiting his return either a duty or -a consolation to their father. Emily's days were days of hard labour; -of constant combat with feelings wearing and oppressive; and she first -proposed to her sister to go to bed. - -"I am weary, dear Rose," she said; "weary of the world, and of myself. -Perhaps I may sleep, and that would be a blessing." - -Rose hung upon her neck, and wept; but she answered not in words, for -she dared not counsel, and she could not console. - -Mr. Tracy sat and wrote for some time after his return--to the -coroner, to some of the neighbouring magistrates; and then he, too, -retired to rest, excited, but not too much for sleep. - -On the following morning he rose about half-past eight o'clock, and -rang his bell. It was one of the footmen who appeared, and informed -him that the valet had been summoned to attend the coroner's inquest, -which had been sitting since seven. - -"It is strange they did not inform me," observed Mr. Tracy. - -"Why, Sir, Taylor said he had all the papers," replied the man; "and -that it was a pity to disturb you, as you had not seemed well of -late." - -"Is Sir William Winslow up?" inquired Mr. Tracy. - -"No, Sir," answered the footman; "his windows are tight closed, and -his man says he often sleeps till ten." - -Mr. Tracy dressed himself, and went down stairs. He found Rose alone -in the breakfast-room, making tea, after having inquired if he had -risen. - -"Emily does not feel well, papa," she said; "and I advised her to -remain in bed. But what is this terrible news my maid tells me--a man -found murdered in our grounds last night?" - -"Too true, my love," answered Mr. Tracy. "The coroner's inquest, it -seems, is now sitting; and I am not sure that your evidence may not be -required, Rose. I know you have a strong mind, my dear child, and a -true heart; and therefore I trust you will not let the unpleasantness -of such a circumstance pain you too much." - -"My evidence!" cried Rose--"mine! What can I tell them? I saw nothing -of the matter, or you may be sure I should have told you at once." - -"Of course," replied Mr. Tracy. "But it seems that Acton, the -head-gardener, must have been in the grounds, and nearly at the spot, -within a few minutes of the time when the crime was committed. He says -that he spoke with you at the basin, and then quitted the grounds at -once." - -Rose now felt how dangerous a thing it is to have any concealment from -a parent. She had gone on in perfect innocence with Chandos Winslow; -she was accidentally a participator in his secret; she would have -thought it base to betray it, even if she had not loved him; yet how -much pain and embarrassment did the concealment in which she had -shared, in which she must still share, cause her at that moment. She -answered then with agitation and hesitation: "He spoke a few words to -me at the basin as I was feeding my gold-fish, and left me as if to go -from the garden. I was at the side of the pond after he quitted it. I -am sure he left the garden directly." - -Mr. Tracy marked his daughter's manner, and thought it strange; but he -was not a very observant man; and his thoughts soon wandered away from -that which he concluded was some merely accidental circumstance. "I -must get some breakfast, and go down directly," he said: "so ring the -bell, my love, and pour me out some tea. Where is the inquest -sitting?" he continued, when the servant appeared. - -"Down at the Cross-Keys, in the village," replied the man. - -"Well, let me know when they come to view the body," rejoined Mr. -Tracy; but the footman informed him, that the part of the proceedings -which he mentioned had taken place a full hour before. Mr. Tracy then -ordered his horse in half an hour; but the first post came in earlier -that day than usual. Several letters engaged his attention first, and -then a paragraph in the newspaper; so that the horse was kept walking -up and down for fully twenty minutes. At the end of that time he -mounted and rode away; but, before he had been gone a quarter of an -hour, the butler, who had taken a cross-cut over the fields, entered -the breakfast-room, as if looking for his master. - -"Papa's gone down to attend the inquest, Taylor," said Rose, who had -remained in deep thought at the table. "Tell me what has taken place?" - -"Why, Ma'am, the inquest is all over," answered the butler; "and -master will find them all gone." - -"But what is the verdict, then?" inquired the young lady eagerly; -"what have the jury discovered?" - -"Why, I am sorry to say, Miss Rose," replied the man, who seemed to be -made very unwillingly the bearer of bad tidings, "they have given a -verdict of 'wilful murder' against Mr. Acton, our head-gardener." - -"Impossible!" cried Rose, gasping for breath. "He could not be the -murderer; for he quitted the garden while I myself stood by the -basin." - -"He came into it again, Miss Rose," said the butler in a sorrowful -tone; "his feet were traced straight from the haw-haw, back to the -very spot where the dead body was found. Some of his clothes were -bloody, too, and those the very clothes he had on last night. The hoe -too, with which the poor old man was killed was his; and nobody can -deny it is all very suspicious: and so they have sent him off to the -county gaol." - -"Nonsense! nonsense!" cried Rose; "it was not, it could not be he;" -and darting out of the breakfast-room, she entered the adjoining -chamber, cast herself into a chair and burst into a violent fit of -tears. Then rising suddenly, she threw open the glass doors and walked -out into the grounds, as if she were half-crazed, without bonnet or -shawl. On she went straight towards the basin where the fatal event -had taken place, hurrying forward with a rapid pace, as if in hopes of -discovering something which might exculpate her lover. She had passed -through the first plantation, which lay within sight of the house, and -was then going round by the walk which bordered a little second lawn, -among the shrubberies, when she thought she heard a voice near, cry, -"Hist! hist!" and turning round, she saw coming out between two of the -stone-pines on the other side of the lawn, the gipsey-woman, Sally -Stanley. - -"Rose! Rose Tracy!" cried the woman; "hark to me, pretty lady; I have -something to say to you." - -"What is it?" cried Rose, advancing to meet her; "tell me, tell me -quickly! I think I shall go mad." - -"Amongst the trees, amongst the trees," said the woman, "where nobody -can see us; though the gardener-people are all out of the way, -revelling, as men always do, over the misfortunes of their -fellow-creatures." - -The day before, Rose would have been afraid to trust herself alone -with that woman among the shrubberies; but anxiety for him she loved -had extinguished all personal fear, and with a quick step she led the -way into a dark, narrow walk, seldom trodden. - -"What is it?" she asked, as soon as they were beneath the boughs; -"what have you to tell me?" - -"I saw him, as they were putting him into the chaise," said the old -woman, with a low voice; "and the constable let me ask him, what was -to become of my little boy. I knew what the answer would be well -enough; but I thought it would give him the means of speaking a word -with me." - -"What did he say? what did he say?" cried Rose, totally forgetting in -her eagerness how she was committing herself to a stranger, of not the -most reputable class of society. - -"He said," replied the woman, "that the boy would be taken care of by -the General, and then, in a quick whisper, he bade me 'tell her who -would be most interested in his fate' not to be alarmed; for he could -clear himself in a moment, whenever he chose to speak." - -"Thank God!" cried Rose Tracy; and, clasping her hands together, she -burst into a flood of tears. - -The woman stood and gazed at her with evident interest. "Ay," she said -at length, "love's a pretty thing; but yet it breaks many a heart and -turns many a brain. It turned mine once. But you'll marry him yet, -pretty lady; I know it, and I have told you so." - -Her words recalled Rose to herself; and the thought of how clearly -she had exposed all the innermost feelings of her heart to that -gipsey-woman, made the blood rise to her cheek till it glowed with -crimson. Nevertheless, taking out her purse, she drew forth a -sovereign, to reward her for the relief she had given; but the woman -put it away with her hand, saying: "Not a penny--not a penny, from one -that he loves and who loves him. I will bring you news of him from -time to time. And don't you be afraid when you see the gipsies near -you; there is not one of them will hurt you. And he will be proved -innocent, depend upon it." - -A thought--perhaps I ought to call it a suspicion--suddenly crossed -the mind of Rose Tracy. "Could the gipsies," she asked herself, "have -any share, or any knowledge, of the crime which had been committed?" -Here was one of them now in the garden, when she had every reason to -believe the gates were locked. Might not such have been the case with -some of the men of the tribe on the preceding evening? They were a -bold, reckless, lawless race; and any slight offence, any small -temptation, might have led them, she thought, to commit such an act. -Yet what was she to do? She was there alone with that strange woman; -there might be others near at hand. She had no proofs; she had no -legitimate cause even for imputing to her people so terrible a crime. -She dared not do it; and yet to save Chandos Winslow, what would she -not have done? A tremor came over her; and she continued for more than -a minute gazing fixedly upon the dark, sun-burnt countenance before -her, which, with all its beauty, had something wild and strange about -the eyes. - -"What is the matter?" asked the gipsey at length; "what do you fear?" - -"Nothing, nothing," replied Rose. "But I would only say one word to -you. Oh, if you know who has committed this crime! oh, if you can save -an innocent man by revealing the name of the guilty, I adjure you, by -all that is most sacred, to do so; I adjure you by the God that made -us, by the Mediator who saved us, by your feelings as a woman, by your -feelings as a mother, if you would not one day see your own child -condemned for crimes he did not commit, speak now, if you can give the -name of the real murderer." - -"Poor thing!" answered the gipsey, "poor thing! you love him very -terribly. But be assured, that if I knew who had done this deed I -would tell it at once, even if there was no such person as Chandos -Winslow upon earth. The murdered man was a good man, and kind--kind to -me and my people, when there were few to be kind. But it will be found -out. Murdered men die; but the murder dies not; and it hunts the doer -of it to death. Murdered men are silent; but their blood cries out -from the dust, and makes itself heard. Murdered men are still; but -there is an arm stretched out to strike the murderer, which faileth -not, no, and shall never fail!" - -She spoke like one inspired, with her dark eyes flashing, her round, -beautiful arm raised, and the extended finger trembling in the air; -then suddenly turning away, she left Rose silent and overpowered. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - - -The three following days were days of terrible activity; but that was -what was requisite to every one at Northferry--even for peace. There -was only one who took no part in all that occupied the rest--Emily -Tracy. She was totally inactive. She did nothing, spoke little, hardly -seemed to think. - -Sir William Winslow was all fire and haste. When the news was first -communicated to him, that his agent, Mr. Roberts, had been murdered in -the grounds of Northferry-house, his manner denoted a severe shock; -and when it was added, that the head-gardener, one Acton, between whom -and Mr. Roberts there was some unexplained connexion, had been -committed for the murder, he seemed to rejoice almost with a fiendish -sort of triumph. He declared he would spare no means to bring the -fellow to justice--that he would pursue the rascal who had killed good -old Roberts, as if he had slain a relation of his own. Then, however, -he recollected what embarrassment and annoyance might take place, in -regard to all the affairs that his steward had been conducting, just -upon the eve of his marriage too; and he rode over to Winslow Abbey, -drove to Elmsly, paying the post-boys enormously to go quick. He went -hither and thither like lightning; never stayed in any place more than -an hour or two; was quick and hurried in his conversation, though -sometimes lapsing into fits of intense thought. He drank a great deal -of wine, too, at dinner, at supper, even in the morning; but it did -not make him tipsy; and he transacted much business in the most rapid -manner. Indeed, it was necessary that he should do so; for the third -day after the committal of Chandos was the time appointed for the -payment of the sums owed by Mr. Tracy, and for the signature of the -marriage settlements. The morning of the fourth the marriage was to -take place; and Sir William had a-thousand things to do before that -event. However, all was done. The agreement for the sale of the -Winslow Abbey estate finally signed, part of the purchase-money paid, -and received; Mr. Tracy's pressing debt discharged; and the marriage -settlements of Emily Tracy and Sir William Winslow marked with the -signature of both. Emily's name was written in a fine, clear, distinct -hand, every letter as straight and as firm as if it had been a -specimen of penmanship. Sir William's, on the contrary, was hardly -legible; each stroke running into the other, some big, and some small, -with a break here and there, as if the pen, or the hand, had refused -to perform its office. - -Mr. Tracy was occupied all day, and the part of several nights, in the -business of different kinds which had lately accumulated upon him. He -had many letters to write, many preparations to make; and he made the -many more, the unimportant important. He saw little of his children, -except at their meals. Emily's eyes reproached him, and perhaps Rose's -still more; for she felt deeply--terribly, for her sister. But Mr. -Tracy tried hard to steel himself. He recollected all the conventional -cant of "romantic girls," and of "love coming after marriage;" and of -"those marriages being generally the happiest where reason was -consulted rather than passion." But Mr. Tracy could not convince -himself. He had lived too long out of the sphere of the great world -for its cold sophistries to have much weight with him. He felt that he -was destroying his daughter's happiness, if not affecting her health, -and endangering her life; and the only tangible consolation he could -apply to his own heart, was found in the reflection, that she must -herself have shared in the ruin which her marriage with Sir William -Winslow averted. - -General Tracy was not at Northferry. Mr. Tracy had, with a cowardice -not altogether singular, concealed from his brother the compact -between Sir William and himself, till the old officer was in London; -and had then written to tell him that Emily was engaged to the young -baronet, and to be married immediately. Sheets of paper do not blush, -which is a great relief to many who are doing weak, wicked, or foolish -things. General Tracy had replied in a letter which Mr. Tracy had only -read half through, and then burned, with a shaking hand; but as the -day of the marriage approached, and he knew his brother would arrive -before it, he became uneasy, irritable, listening for carriage-wheels, -and evidently working his courage up for an encounter that he dreaded. - -It was not till the day before that appointed for the marriage, -however, that General Tracy arrived; and his carriage passed the gate -about an hour before dinner. He found his brother, Sir William -Winslow, and Rose, in the drawing-room; shook hands with the former -and the latter, and bowed stiffly to the baronet. For five minutes he -talked of ordinary subjects, mentioned the world of fashion, and the -world of politics, talked of the mutations of stocks, and corn, and -men's opinions; and then saying, "I have a good deal of news to give -you, Arthur, after dinner; but it will keep till then," he rose, and -left the room. - -General Tracy proceeded not to his own chamber, however; but walked -straight to that of Emily, and knocked at the door. The well-known -step was heard by her within, and the voice of Miss Tracy instantly -answered, "Come in." The maid, who was dressing her, left the room; -and the moment she was gone Emily threw herself into her uncle's arms, -and wept. "Oh, I am so glad to see you," she said. - -"Calm yourself, dear Lily," said General Tracy, "and speak to me two -or three words with your own truth and candour. Answer me first one -question." - -"Stay, my dear uncle," said Emily; "you first answer me one. I am sure -you went to London to seek means of relieving my father. He has told -me all; and therefore there need be no concealment. What have you done -to assist him?" - -"But little, my dear child," answered her uncle. "There is every -probability, indeed, of many of these speculations rising in -importance ere long; but at the present moment, the sale of all the -shares would not produce a sufficient sum to meet even the first -pressure. Nevertheless, dear Emily, that must not be the cause of your -whole happiness for life being sacrificed. I have seen the principal -parties concerned; they seem ready to receive an offer I have made -them, after having my estate valued; and if, as I fear, this proposed -marriage is repugnant to all your feelings, it must not take place." - -"After having your estate valued," repeated Emily, in an abstracted -tone; but then raising her head suddenly, she added, "my dear uncle, -the marriage is not only proposed, but finally settled. I will not -jilt any man. I will not ruin my uncle and my father. I will not -retract my promise given. Thank you, thank you, dear uncle. Love your -poor Emily ever; and your affection and my father's will be my -reward." - -Emily again cast herself into his arms to weep there; but General -Tracy could make no impression, though he tried to shake her -resolution. Her fate was fixed; her mind made up. She was not to be -changed. - -"What if I were to quarrel with, call him out, and shoot him?" thought -General Tracy, as he retired from his niece's room to his own. "Why, -it would be murder--that will not do." And, sad, angry, and -discontented, he dressed, and went down to dinner. He was a gentleman, -however; and he carefully avoided every subject which might lead him -to show the irritation he felt. He did not, indeed, court conversation -with Sir William Winslow; and his words, when any took place between -them, were as brief as possible, but perfectly civil. Indeed, when he -looked at him, and saw his pale cheek and haggard eye, he felt -inclined to pity him. "That fellow is creating his own wretchedness, -as well as that of the poor girl," he thought. "What a fool he must -be! He sees she does not love--never will love him; and yet he -persists. If he must _buy_ an unwilling wife, why the devil does he -not go to Constantinople?" - -A moment or two after, however, anxious to turn his thoughts from the -most painful subject they could rest upon, he addressed Mr. Tracy, -saying--"By the way, Arthur, let me hear something more of this -horrible event which you just mentioned in your last letter; but which -is filling all the London papers, with tales of blood. Is it true, -that Acton has been taken up on suspicion?" - -"Not only taken up, but committed upon the verdict of the coroner's -jury," replied Mr. Tracy. - -Sir William Winslow filled the tumbler that stood next to him with -wine, and drank it off. - -"The coroner's jury must be a pack of fools," said General Tracy. -"Really, juries are becoming worse than a farce: a pest to the -country. I have not seen a verdict for twenty years that did not bear -the stamp of prejudice, falsehood, or idiotcy upon it. There is a -regular hierarchy of fools in England, proceeding from the coroner's -jury to the grand jury, assisted by all their officers, from the -coroner to the chairman of the magistrates. Rose, my flower, you do -not seem well. Take a glass of wine with me." - -"I do not wonder she turns pale," said Mr. Tracy, "when you call up -such a terrible subject again, Walter." - -"Well, let us try something better," said the General. "How is Fleming -going on? Has he got his house in order, yet? all the great rooms -papered and painted?" - -"He has been absent for ten days," said Mr. Tracy, who felt at his -heart that his brother had not been more fortunate in his choice of a -topic this time than before. "He is not expected back for a month." - -"I am sorry for that," said General Tracy; "he is the most agreeable -parson I ever met with--a gentleman--a man of sense, of feeling, and -of talent. Such a man is a great resource in a neighbourhood like -this." - -Rose raised her eyes imploringly to her uncle's face, then turned them -towards Emily, and the subject dropped. - -With such a beginning, how could the evening pass? - -The next morning, at the hour of nine, Mr. Tracy's carriage conveyed -four people, each enduring their own peculiar sort of wretchedness to -the parish-church of Northferry. Emily was--or seemed--the least -agitated of the whole party. - -Sir William Winslow was there before them; and, in a few minutes, he -and his poor bride stood before the altar. She was deadly pale; but -she shook not, she wept not. She made no responses; but the clerk did -it for her; for he was so much accustomed to marrying, and giving in -marriage, that he could not refrain from playing the part of bride or -bridegroom, as the case might be, whenever he saw or thought the -parties were incompetent to play it for themselves. - -At length there came something which roused the unhappy girl from the -stupor of her misery. The ring touched her ringer, glided up it, -making her his with its cold chilling clasp. It was over--the effort -was complete--the struggle finished! the die cast! She was the wife of -a man she detested! She felt it but for an instant. The next, she was -lying like a corpse at her father's and her husband's feet--pale as -monumental marble; and, to all appearance, as cold and lifeless, too. - -They took her up, and carried her into the vestry; but nought they -could do seemed to have any effect in restoring animation. Yet it was -evident, that though the swoon was deathlike, it was not death; and -Mr. Woodyard was sent for in haste. Sir William Winslow gazed on her -with a dark brow and a chilled heart. He felt that she hated him: he -knew that he had marred her young dreams of love and joy; that he had -made life to her like her own fine frame as it lay there before him--a -body without a spirit. A cloud came over him, and snow fell from the -cloud upon the fierce animal fire of his breast. As he remained, with -eyes intent, and fixed upon her, some one opened the vestry-door, and -a voice asked, "Is Sir William Winslow here?" - -He turned suddenly round, and after looking at the man who made the -inquiry--a man like an ostler or a groom--he replied. "Yes. What do -you want with me?" - -"Please you, Sir William," said the man, advancing, and tendering a -letter, "I was told to bring you this as hard as I could gallop from -the town of S----; and I have not been more than two hours from post -to post. I was to deliver it wherever you might be." - -The baronet took the letter, and as he gazed at the superscription, a -contemptuous smile curled his lip. "That will do, my good fellow," he -said, without opening it. "I know whom it comes from." - -"Ye'd better read, Sir," said the man; "for the lawyer gentleman who -gave it me, said it was matter of life and death." - -"I don't think so," answered the baronet. But he broke the seal, -nevertheless; and the moment his eye had run over the first lines, his -countenance changed. He became, if possible, paler than her on whom he -had just been gazing. He trembled in every limb. He could not at all -restrain it; his whole frame shook. - -"Good God! what is the matter now?" cried Mr. Tracy, looking up from -his child. "What has happened, Sir William?" - -"I must go," said the other wildly. "I must get over at once--I -must leave you, Mr. Tracy---leave my bride--my wife. This, -Acton--this--this--Heaven and earth, how shall I act?--what shall I -do?--He--he whom I--he is my brother--he knows--he is--my brother." - -He let the letter drop as he spoke; but instantly picked it up again, -and grasped it tightly in his hand. Mr. Tracy and the General, greatly -shocked, and feeling for the agitation that they witnessed, though -they knew not all its causes, pressed him to go over to his brother at -once, leaving Emily to their care. - -The young clergyman who officiated for Mr. Fleming, ventured quietly -to say--he was of a somewhat strict school--"The marriage cannot yet be -considered as complete, Sir; and the ceremony had better be performed -entirely again upon another day; for I have not yet joined their -hands." - -Sir William Winslow gave him a fierce, impatient look, hurried out of -the vestry, threw himself into his carriage; and, amidst the wonder -and disappointment of the crowd of townsmen, ordered the post-boys to -drive to S----. - -A moment or two after, Mr. Woodyard came in. The surgeon was an old -and dear friend; he was the first person who had held Emily in his -arms when she came into the world; his love for her was almost -paternal; and the sight of her in such a state, acting on his -affection and his peculiar character, induced him in the very first -instance to abuse everybody in the room in the most violent and -outrageous manner. Her father, her uncle, even the curate and clerk -had all some share of vituperation; but the moment the storm had blown -over, he applied himself zealously to restore her to consciousness, -and succeeded in about half-an-hour. As soon as she seemed capable of -comprehending anything that was addressed to her, General Tracy bent -down his head, saying, in a low voice, "He is gone, Lily--he is gone, -and will not be back for some time." - -It was a strange topic of consolation for a bride to hear that her -bridegroom had left her; but yet, it afforded to Emily the only -comfort she was capable of receiving. She looked round the circle, she -saw none but friendly faces, and a faint smile came upon her beautiful -lips. Rose pressed her hand tenderly, and in doing so her fingers -touched the fatal ring. Without knowing well why--without pausing to -consider--acting solely on impulse, Rose drew it gently off, without -Emily being conscious of what her sister did. The moment it was done -Rose was half frightened at her own act. But she recollected that the -clergyman had said, the marriage was not complete, and she internally -prayed to Heaven that it might never be rendered so. - -A few minutes more, and Emily could sit up; but it was nearly an hour -before Mr. Woodyard would suffer her to be removed to Northferry -house. Once there, she returned immediately to her own room, with -Rose; and an eager consultation followed between Mr. Tracy and his -brother, in regard to the embarrassed circumstances in which the -family were placed. General Tracy had much consideration for his -brother--I might almost call it tenderness. He felt that he wanted -vigour of character and power of mind; and he had all his life been -accustomed to spare him, from motives of affection and a certain sense -of dignity, which always prevented him from triumphing over weakness. -In the present case he recurred not at all to the past; but, with his -usual cutting decision, he expressed his opinion upon the present and -the future. - -"The marriage is not complete, Arthur," he said; "and I thank God that -it is not--hear me out, my good brother. The clergyman himself has -pronounced, that the ceremonies required by the church have not been -performed, and we are bound, as Emily's relations, to look upon it as -no marriage at all." - -"Then the whole will have to be performed over again," said Mr. Tracy; -"which will be terribly distressing to the poor girl's mind." - -"I never yet heard," answered General Tracy, dryly, "that a man who is -going to be hanged objected to a respite, though the hanging might -come after all. Emily will have time for thought, aye, and time for -decision." - -"I do not see that there can be any doubt to decide," said Mr. Tracy; -"although, as you say, the marriage may not be complete, yet it has -proceeded sufficiently far to be a bar to her union with any one -else." - -"I dare say she would rather never marry at all," replied the General, -"than marry a man she hates. But, at all events, my dear brother, we -can have lawyers' opinions on that point. For my own part, I thank God -for any obstacle." - -"But you do not consider, Walter, the whole of this large sum of money -which he advanced in my greatest need, must be repaid immediately, -even if we hesitate." - -"Damn the money!" cried General Tracy, his impatience getting the -better of him. "Did I not write you word, Arthur, that the people who -hold the most pressing claims were willing to receive my property in -pledge for the payment?" - -"But it was then too late," replied Mr. Tracy; "the whole matter was -arranged; my word given, and Emily's." - -"The whole matter is now disarranged," answered General Tracy; "and if -Emily's reluctance, which is self-evident, continues unabated, I tell -you Arthur, it is your duty as her father to sell your estates at any -loss, to do anything, in short, rather than sacrifice your child. -However, I am determined that if there be a possibility of rescuing -her, I will do it. The point of law shall be ascertained immediately; -and I would rather fight Sir William Winslow a dozen times over, than -see our poor Lily as I saw this morning. If I shoot him the matter is -settled, and if he shoots me, I am sure enough that she will never -have anything to say to the man who killed her uncle." - -"Nonsense, nonsense," cried Mr. Tracy, "do not talk of such extreme -measures." - -"Why not?" demanded the General, "I have seen you going to shoot a -much honester man than he is, Arthur, merely to deliver yourself from -sudden embarrassment. Do you think I would not do the same, or be shot -myself, to deliver that sweet girl from the misery of a whole life?" - -Mr. Tracy coloured highly, but did not reply. The consultation, -however, as so many consultations do in the world, proved perfectly in -vain. The day passed over without the return of Sir William Winslow. -General Tracy explained to Emily, first, what had so strangely and -unpleasantly called away Sir William Winslow, and then that her -marriage was not complete, that he and her father had determined that -the ceremony, if performed again at all, should not be renewed for -some weeks; and that in the meantime he would take the opinion of some -eminent lawyers, as to how far the engagement entered into was -actually binding. He asked her for no decision on her own part. He -hardly even hinted that she might be called upon to decide; and Emily -gladly seized the present relief, and cast the burden of thought upon -the future. More than once she looked down at her hand, however, and -at length said, in a low voice, "Surely the ring was upon my finger, -and now it is gone. Could it be a dream?" General Tracy could give her -no explanation, and therefore he held his tongue; but he had the -satisfaction of seeing that his niece's spirits in some degree -returned during the evening, that from time to time she was even -cheerful, although she often fell into deep fits of thought; and that -on the whole, her mind was relieved by delay. - -On the following morning the post from S----, brought a letter for Mr. -Tracy, in Sir William Winslow's hand, the contents of which may tend -to shorten explanations. It was very brief and to the following -effect:-- - - - "My dear Sir, - -"I write with a mind terribly agitated. The horrible situation in -which my brother is placed, the doubts I entertain of the result of -his trial, the disgrace and shame of such a proceeding altogether, -quite overwhelm me; and I feel myself unable to face the world.--I -hardly know what I write or what I am doing.--I have determined to -quit England till the first scandal of this has passed by. My love for -Emily is unabated--will never abate; but I dare not--cannot face all -this. I will write again when I can calm my mind, and will return as -soon as anything is sure regarding my brother's fate--at present I am -half-distracted; but nevertheless, - - "Yours ever, - - "WILLIAM WINSLOW." - - -Emily was not down, and Mr. Tracy handed the letter to his brother, -saying, "Some of our difficulties are removed for a time, Walter." - -"A very strange epistle, indeed," replied General Tracy, when he had -read it. "I think he is somewhat more than _half_ distracted." - -"May I see it?" asked Rose; and her uncle gave her the letter. She -read it attentively once--then read it again; and then she thrust it -from her, with a shudder. - -"What is the matter, Flower?" asked her uncle, as he marked her -emotion; but Rose held down her head, with her eyes fixed upon the -pattern of the table-cloth, and replied, "Nothing, my dear uncle; but -that I do not think that letter is true. It does not seem to me -sincere. I think there is something more under it." - -"Rose, you are prejudiced," said Mr. Tracy; for weak people are always -fond of being very candid. "You do not like Sir William Winslow, and -you judge harshly of him. His faults were anything but those of a man -wanting in sincerity--he was too vehement, too passionate for that. -What makes you think that there is any thing untrue in his letter?" - -"Because he never showed the least feeling of any kind for his -brother," said Rose. "I do not think all this agitation, all this -distraction is natural, unless he is moved by stronger and more -personal feelings than either regard for his brother, or fears of -disgrace through him. But you must not ask me, my dear father, what I -think, what I feel, or why. I have often heard you say, that women -have more instinct than reason. God grant that my instinct be wrong in -the present instance." - -"Rose, Rose," cried her father, "this is really too much, my love. Be -more generous; be more candid!" - -"Well, papa," she answered, "I may be wrong, very wrong; but it would -be a great satisfaction to me to know, if Sir William Winslow ever saw -his brother yesterday--if he has taken any measures, or provided any -means for his defence." - -Rose, to her own horror and dismay, had been suddenly led very near -the truth, by the doubts created in her mind by the wild and rambling -tone of Sir William Winslow's letter. Two or three facts presented -themselves to her memory in an instant, which, if she had not quite -forgotten them, had not connected themselves before in her thoughts -with the crime which had been committed. She now remembered that while -speaking with Chandos by the side of the pond, she had heard the voice -of his brother coming towards the very spot where the deed was done; -she remembered that there was another voice also speaking in tones not -familiar to her; and she also recollected that the sound of both was -loud and angry. She dared not express what she thought, without -further consideration; she feared to cast an unjust doubt upon a man -who might be innocent; but she determined, without the slightest -consideration of how it might affect herself, to state all that she -knew, if necessary, to Chandos Winslow's justification. - -"You shall have your doubts solved this very day, my Flower;" her -uncle replied to her last words; "for I will go over to S----, and see -our poor prisoner. I like the lad much; I am quite sure he is -innocent; and I think with you, that this letter is not written in a -natural tone. As soon as I have seen dear Lily, I will have horses, -and go." - -General Tracy did not fail to execute the intention thus expressed; -but it may be as well to state at once, what had been the course of -Sir William Winslow, without waiting for the old officer's report. On -quitting Northferry, the baronet sunk back in his carriage, and gazed -forth from the windows with a straining eye, full of horror and -dismay, for nearly a quarter of an hour. Then, with a start, he raised -himself, and looked at the letter which he held crumpled up in his -hand. He smoothed it out, he tried to read it; but his hand shook so -fearfully, that he could with difficulty make out the characters. "You -had better quit England as soon as possible!" he repeated. "He is -right--he is right!" Then turning to the page, he read--"I will not -betray you--but facts may be elicited at the trial of a dangerous -kind." "Not betray me," continued the baronet, commenting upon what he -read; "to be sure he will to save his own life--I will not trust -him--no, no! He is right. I will quit England. Shall I see him first? -It might be better, perhaps--No, I cannot, I will not--I must try and -be calm, however. People will suspect something. What shall I do with -this?" and he looked at the letter. "I wonder how he got them to bring -it without breaking the seal?--By the lawyer, I dare say--I must -destroy it." - -He proceeded to do so, tearing it into very minute pieces. But then he -feared that they might be found, and put together again; and some he -strewed upon the road from the carriage window, letting piece by piece -blow away, each at a great distance from the other. - -Some he let fall into the bottom of the carriage, taking care that -they should be disunited from the rest, and that they bore nought but -the most ordinary words without the context. Some he actually ate. Do -not let the reader think it improbable or exaggerated. He actually ate -them. When he arrived at the inn at S----, he did not either walk or -drive to the prison; but he ordered horses on to the sea-coast, and -then entering the hotel, wrote the short note we have already read to -Mr. Tracy. In ten hours his feet were no longer upon British ground. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - - -It was in a cell of the prison of S----. The prison had not been -modernized. It was not a red brick building picked out with white: a -gaol in a harlequin's jacket. Nor was it a snug, free-stone, -gentlemanly house, with big fetters and a figure of Justice over the -door, looking half asleep under her bandage, and ready to drop both -scales and sword. It was an old-fashioned English prison--not a bit -the better for that--heavy, massive, soiled with the smoke of -manufactories, and turning its black unmeaning shoulder to the street, -with one window looking out, like the eye of Polyphemus, over the huge -mouth-like door, where so many victims went in. The interior -accommodation corresponded well with the unpromising exterior. Nobody -could say he had been deceived into high expectations by the outside, -when he found himself ushered into a cell of nine feet by six, with a -grated window high up, a chair, a table, and a bed. It was just what -the bricks in the wall foretold. There sat Chandos Winslow, by the -table, with fetters on his legs. The magistrates were very fond of -fetters. They fettered everybody and everything--oven their own -intellects--and they instantly fettered Chandos Winslow, though the -utility of the thing was not apparent, seeing that he could sooner -have eaten the prison than got out of it; and the injustice of the act -was self-evident, for he had neither committed nor been found guilty -of any crime "worthy of death or bonds." - -Chandos was not alone, however. On the other side of the table sat a -gentleman of a very prepossessing countenance, dressed in black, with -exceedingly white linen. He was neither tall nor handsome, but his -figure though slight was well formed, and his face, though certainly -plain, was sparkling with high intelligence. There was a mildness in -it too, which chastened the vivacity; and an earnestness which gave -depth to the whole. You have seen him, reader, have you not, either -moving the hearts of the jury, and shaking the opinions of the judge; -or pouring forth in the Commons those rich, clear streams of -convincing eloquence, which carried heart and mind away with them. He -is gone! The brief bright career is finished! The grave holds him! -Peace to his ashes! honour to his memory! - -And now he sat opposite Chandos Winslow gazing in his face with those -large earnest eyes of his, and addressing to him a solemn and -impressive exhortation. He had known him intimately for some years; -indeed, they were distantly connected, for Lady Winslow had been a -Devonshire woman; and the eminent barrister had come down at once, at -a great sacrifice, to make himself master of his friend's case in -person, more completely than he could have done, had he trusted alone -to briefs and consultations. - -"My dear Chandos," he said, "the very first thing between us must be -perfect frankness. I have got rid of your solicitor, because he might -be an impediment; but I must know exactly how you stand, in every -respect, in order that I may defend you to the best of my ability." - -"Of course, F----." said Chandos, "you do not suppose me guilty of the -murder of poor Roberts." - -"Guilty of his murder, I certainly do not," answered the barrister; -"but a man may produce death without being guilty of murder. Now you -are all a very vehement family. Your father was hasty, your brother is -still more so; and you are yourself not without a tinge of the family -infirmity. You are by no means an unlikely man to strike a rash blow -in a moment of passion; but all I say is, you must give me a clear -view of all the circumstances, not for your own sake alone, but for -mine; for you must recollect that a lawyer, if he be worthy of his -calling--which is a high one whatever men may say--considers his own -honour as involved in the manner in which he conducts a cause; and he -never can do so well, without full and candid explanations on the part -of his client." - -There are various modes of smoothing the way to confession, and the -great lawyer was trying one of them. - -"All you say is very true," answered Chandos Winslow, "and had I any -acknowledgment to make, I assure you I would do it at once; but I give -you my word of honour as a gentleman, I declare by everything I hold -most sacred, that I had as much to do with this crime as you have." - -"Well, I must believe you," replied the barrister; "I am sure you -would not deceive me in such a case, and with such asseverations. But -we must look at the case as it stands;" and he took some written -papers and a note-book out of his pocket. "I have read the evidence as -far as it goes," he continued, "as I came down; and I am bound to -inform you, Chandos, that the case looks very serious. I find, first, -that there was some dispute between you and your father's late -steward, proved by a letter found upon his person. This may be a -trifle; but stress may be laid upon it, and it may be magnified by -other circumstances into a fact of great importance. Secondly: it -appears that he came over to seek you at Northferry House, and went -out into the gardens in search of you. Thirdly: I perceive that it is -established beyond all doubt, that you were at, or very near the spot -where the event took place, at the time of its occurrence. A man named -Sandes saw you going in that direction, as did also his nephew. They -vary as to the time, I see: one says, it was not three minutes before -five; the other, five or ten minutes. Something may be made out of -that. Fourthly: it appears from the testimony of these two men, that -you had a Dutch hoe in your hand at the time they met you. Fifthly: -that a similar implement was found near the body, the edge being -covered with blood and gray hair. Sixthly: the surgeon pronounces the -wound which produced death to have been inflicted by such an -instrument. And seventhly: that the hoe found belonged to you. -Moreover, it is shown, that a few minutes after five, you returned to -your cottage in great agitation, washed your hands, and threw away the -water yourself. Nevertheless, some large marks of blood are found on -the dress which you wore that evening; and it is at the same time -shown, that though you might have quitted the garden without meeting -Mr. Roberts, as you assert, yet you must have passed to and fro from -the hedge to the very spot where the body lay, for there were traces -exactly fitting your shoe both ways, and one of the footprints was -marked with blood, as if you had stepped in the pool which lay round -the poor man's head when he was found." - -Chandos listened with sad and serious attention till his friend -paused, and then replied: "It is certainly, as you say, a case of -heavy suspicion; and, what is more, my dear F----, I do not know that -I can do anything to remove it." - -The barrister looked very grave. "My dear Chandos," he said, -"something must be done. You must give some account of your -proceedings--you must make some statement--or you are inevitably lost. -It is rare in instances such as this, where circumstantial evidence is -all which judge or jury have to guide them, that so strong and -unbroken a train is to be found against an accused person. In Heaven's -name! say something--tell me something." - -"To you, I will," answered Chandos; "but it is upon one condition -alone, namely, that you give me your word of honour, not to use in my -defence any of the facts I am going to state, without my permission." - -"It is a strange request; and I cannot conceive the motives," replied -the other; "but as you have it in your own power to grant or withhold -your confidence, I must accede, as your friend. Were I merely your -counsel, I would refuse." - -"Well then, on that condition, I will tell you all that occurred on -that night, with the exception of one single fact," said Chandos; "and -you will see that I could break to atoms this chain of circumstantial -evidence in a moment, if I thought fit. But I do not. Some of the -facts may be useful, perhaps, as you will turn them, and some I shall -not object to have used in my defence; but others must remain for ever -between your breast and mine. I was in the garden, then, when Roberts -came to seek me. What he wanted, I do not know. I was close to the -spot where he was afterwards found murdered, when he must have been in -the walk leading thither, and not a hundred yards from it. I had laid -the hoe, in a sloping direction, against one of the pillars of a -little temple, covering a fish-pond, and was standing by the pond, -talking to Miss Rose Tracy, when--" - -"Stay, stay!" cried the barrister. "Did Miss Tracy know who you really -are?" - -"Rose did; not Emily," answered Chandos; "we had met before; and she -has known me all along." - -"Ah! then the strange whim is accounted for," said the other with a -smile. - -"Not quite," replied Chandos; "but I do not mean to conceal from you -that I love her. However, I was talking with her by the fish-pond, -when we suddenly heard the voices of persons coming quickly towards -us; for poor Roberts must have met another person in the grounds, -after inquiring for me at the house. Rose recognized one of the -voices; I both: and, as I had the strongest reasons for not wishing to -be found there by one of the persons who approached--" - -"Mr. Tracy?" asked the barrister. - -"No," answered Chandos, in a decided tone; "quite another person. But -as I did not choose him to find me there, while Miss Tracy made her -escape up one of the paths, I ran straight to the hedge, leapt it, and -stood in the ditch of the haw-haw for some time, concealed by the -hedge. While there, Roberts and the other person approached. They were -evidently in high dispute--indeed, they never agreed; but now, it -would seem, Roberts lost all respect; and when they were just opposite -the fish-pond and the little temple, the other person struck him a -blow with his fist. Then, perceiving the hoe, he snatched it up, and -hit him with it, twice, upon the head. I got over the hedge directly, -resolved to interfere, though I knew I should be recognized at once; -but before I could make my way over, poor Roberts lay dead upon the -ground, and the other person, hearing, and perhaps seeing some one -coming, had fled." - -"Your brother!" said the barrister, in a tone of full conviction. - -"Not even to you, my dear friend, will I say who that person was," -replied Chandos. "Suffice it that I raised poor Roberts from the -ground, covered my hands and coat with blood, and perhaps my feet -also. I soon found that life was quite extinct; and, in horror and -anguish, which I will not trouble you with describing, I laid the body -down again, and returned to my cottage, in the hope of escaping all -question as to the perpetrator of the crime. At first, I never thought -that suspicion might attach to myself; but when I began to look at the -matter more closely, I saw the danger in which I stood. I then -considered my course; and I made up my mind never, under any -circumstances, to shield myself by accusing the person really -criminal. You must, therefore, according to your promise, let me know -precisely what line of defence you are inclined to adopt; for I will -not consent to anything being done by me or for me to point suspicion -against another." - -The barrister fell into deep thought, and for many minutes he uttered -not a word. He was arranging all the facts and circumstances with that -wonderful precision which, when he pleased, rendered the most dark and -intricate subject as clear as noon-light. "Your position, my dear -Winslow," he said at length, "is indeed a very painful and very -difficult one; but I must exhort you, as a man of honour, and a -respecter of the laws of your country, not to let any personal -feelings impede the course of justice." - -Chandos waved his hand. "There is no law," he said, "which could -require me to denounce the guilty in this instance." - -"Oh yes, there is!" replied his friend: "no tie should throw a shield -over a murderer. But I can understand your feelings, and respect them. -However, your own life must not be risked; and it is now for me to -consider how, if I hold my promise to you, I can frame a reasonable -and legitimate defence. If you simply plead 'Not guilty,' and give no -account of yourself which may break through the chain of evidence -against you, there is not a panel in all England that will not condemn -you. If you state openly what you saw and heard, there may still be -great doubts and difficulties to contend with: the probability of your -having killed your father's steward will seem greater to a jury as the -case stands at present, than that your brother did so." - -"Good God! why?" demanded Chandos. - -"Because, in your case," answered the barrister, "a letter was found -upon the dead man, showing that some irritation of feeling had taken -place between you; and in his case there does not appear at present -any reasonable motive for the act. As far as I see things at present, -then, I believe that the best course will be to follow the line you -would yourself desire--to leave the matter vague; to let suspicion -float generally of the crime having been committed by another without -giving it a particular direction." - -"But how can that be done?" asked Chandos, in amazement. - -"Very easily," replied the barrister, "if your fair Rose be willing to -give her evidence, and have sense enough to give it in a particular -manner. If she will but swear that while talking with you near the -fountain or fish-pond, she heard the voices of two persons -approaching, and that those voices seemed to be speaking in angry -tones, it will create a doubt in the minds of the jury of which you -will have the benefit. She must stop there, however, and not enter -into particulars. Nor must you, in whatever defence we frame for -you--which will require much consideration; for the blood on your -clothes and hands must be accounted for as well as many other -circumstances--nor must we, I say, unless with some corroborative -proof, let you cast the charge upon your brother; for it unfortunately -happens that you have long been upon bad terms with him; that your -father's will has added other causes of family dissension between you; -and that you are next heir to his property. Under these circumstances, -if you were to accuse him when you are yourself accused, without being -able to bring very strong corroboration, and to show some reasonable -cause, you would only create a prejudice against yourself, which would -inevitably destroy you. I will think over it all; but as far as I see -at present, we may very well say, that of the two voices which you -heard as well as Miss Tracy, you recognized one as that of Mr. -Roberts; that not wishing to be recognized before a third person, you -had sprung over the hedge, which perhaps Miss Tracy can confirm; and -that from the other side of the hedge you saw a blow given on the head -to the unfortunate victim, by a man who fled immediately. Luckily, not -being subject yourself to cross-examination, there will be no -opportunity of asking you, if you knew the person of the assassin. The -want of explanation on this point will certainly be an omission which -the counsel for the prosecution will remark upon; and therefore we -must make the whole statement as brief and laconic as possible, -leaving out even some other facts of moment, in order that this may -not stand alone. But we must notice particularly your having returned -and raised the dead body. The difficulty will be to account for your -not giving immediate information; and that will be very hard to get -over. I think I can manage it, perhaps, by some bold figure or daring -appeal to the credulity of the jury. All, however, will depend upon -Miss Tracy; and however irregular the proceeding may be, her I must -see and converse with. I go to town to-night; to-morrow and the next -day I am engaged; but I will see her on Saturday; for I suppose the -trial will come on before the end of the next week. The calendar -at--is light; so that we shall have the judges here very soon." - -He ceased speaking. Chandos did not reply, and both sat in silence for -several minutes. - -The lawyer saw that there was a great and terrible probability that -the course he proposed to pursue--the only one open to him--would not -be successful. A sort of intuitive feeling that it was a desperate -game, came upon him. There was a want of confidence in the -arrangement; a want of trust in his own powers to carry it out -successfully, which oppressed him. The truth was, it was what may be -termed a mixed case. He was certain of the innocence of his client, -yet he was obliged to pursue as tortuous a course as if his client had -been guilty. The combination perplexed him. Could he have met the -charge with a bold and open defence, with no concealment, with no -reserve, he would have found no difficulty. Had he only had to make -the best of a bad case by legal skill, he might have disliked the -task, without any apprehensions of the result. But now to defend a -just cause insincerely; to prove the innocence of his friend, without -showing the guilt of that friend's brother; to keep back portions of -the truth, when the whole truth, if it could be proved, was Chandos -Winslow's best defence, puzzled and cowed him. - -Chandos was filled with very different feelings; and I much doubt -whether I shall be able to convey to the reader any adequate idea of -his sensations at that moment. A sort of despair had come over him--a -self-abandonment--a loss of the bright hopes and strong aspirations -which had lately supported him--a paralysation of some of the great -energies of his nature; while others--the powers of passive -endurance--seemed strengthened and acuminated. He was disinclined to -struggle further with fate. Fortune had proved so adverse, whichever -way he turned, that he hoped not for her favour; and he was unwilling -for a bare chance to expose her he loved to all the pain and grief of -a public examination in a court of justice; to the badgering of rude -second-class lawyers; and, perhaps, to insinuations which he would -rather have died himself than have brought upon her head. - -After a long silence, then, he tried to explain his feelings to his -companion; said he would rather not subject Rose to such agitation and -distress; that he was ready to rest upon his own innocence, and to -endure the worst, if that did not avail him. - -But the barrister shook his head. "Not so, Chandos," he said, rising -and taking his hat. "I will see Miss Tracy. I will ascertain her own -views. Afterwards, I will frame your defence as best I can, upon the -grounds laid down. But mark me, my good friend, I have a duty to God -and my own conscience to perform; and if I should fail of convincing -the jury of your innocence, I will tell the whole to the advisers of -her majesty." - -"But you have promised--you have pledged your honour!" cried Chandos. - -The barrister wrung his hand hard. "Remind me of that afterwards," he -said, "and I will prove my confidence in your innocence by fighting -you." Without waiting for a word of reply, he retired. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - - -The lock of the door grated again, within half-an-hour of the time -when his friendly lawyer left Chandos Winslow. It had a harsh sound to -his ear, that heavy lock, whether it opened to admit or give exit to a -visitor. It must always be so with a prisoner; for though he may long -to see a friendly face, though his heart may yearn for the dear -embrace and the look of love, yet there are always sad drawbacks in -the anguish, and regret, and fear of those who come, which all seem to -speak out in that rough grating sound. - -"General Tracy is here, Mr. Winslow," said the turnkey, putting in his -head, "with a magistrate's order to see you, if you like him to come -in." - -"By all means," answered the captive; "I shall be happy to see him;" -and in a minute after the old officer was in the cell. - -He advanced straight towards Chandos as an old friend, and shook him -warmly by the hand; "Well, Mr. Gardener," he said, with a forced -laugh, for his heart was sad, though he sought to be cheerful, "see -what are the consequences of a whim; but I trust they are not likely -to be long as well as heavy--though disagreeable they must be." - -"No one can tell the result, my dear Sir," answered Chandos. "I feel -deeply grateful for your kindness in coming over to see me; but I can -assure you I have the cord and the gibbet before my eyes as the very -probable termination of what you call a whim, but which I cannot help -thinking may deserve a better name." - -"The cord and the gibbet!" exclaimed General Tracy; "nonsense! I for -one feel certain of your innocence; and I trust that the time of -judicial murders is past." - -"Judicial, but not juri-dical, if I may make a sorry jest in sorry -circumstances," answered Chandos. "Do you think, General, that there -are no innocent men hanged in England even in the present day?" - -"God forbid that I should be such a fool," replied General Tracy. -"Juries have now-a-days a great leaning to the side of mercy: they -hang very few men comparatively, but it is always the wrong men. So -far I agree with you--your innocence is decidedly against you; but -still let us hope that if the case is very glaring the judge will -recommend you to mercy. But, as you say, these are sad, bitter jests, -my young friend. All that I see before me, around me, is painful, and -I must be serious. Our method of treating prisoners before trial is a -disgrace to a civilized age and a civilized nation. We have, in the -first place, no regular law to rule the whole system. We have a -regular principle which the law recognises, but which it breaks from -the very beginning. 'Every man is to be considered innocent till he is -found guilty,' says the law; but, whatever he is considered, he is -treated as guilty of something, till he is found innocent of the -charge on which he is committed. Every bench of magistrates varies its -doctrine as it thinks best; but they all agree in taking measures for -a prisoner's safe custody which the object does not require or -justify, and in punishing him for being accused, before it is -ascertained whether he is criminal or not. The very deprivation of -liberty is an injustice towards an innocent man, for which the country -that requires it should make compensation the moment he is acquitted; -and every aggravation of that great hardship, inflicted by one or more -magistrates, ought to be punishable as a misdemeanour. Here I had the -greatest possible difficulty in getting an order to see you, and till -that order was obtained the prison doors were shut against me. What an -aggravation is this of the loss of liberty! Not only are you debarred -the free use of your limbs, of your ability, of your will; but you are -deprived of the comfort of sympathy, of the words of friendship, and -affection, of the very sight of loved faces and familiar tones. Better -far, as has been practised in several nations, to shut you up in a -cage and let all your friends, if they would, come and speak to you -through the bars." - -"I fear," answered Chandos, "that the state of society requires a -great many safeguards, which inflict innumerable individual hardships. -To prevent a prisoner's escape, to prevent his suborning testimony, -and arranging a factitious tale with those without, may justify many -precautions." - -"Does society take as much pains to prevent the subornation of -evidence against him?" asked General Tracy; "does it take pains to -prevent or punish the light and wanton, or the ignorant and stupid -committal of an honest man to the same infliction of imprisonment and -privation which is assigned by the law to a convicted rogue. No, no, -Chandos Winslow, it does not. Society is full of evil conventionalities, -and the cases of individual hardship are so numerous, that I much doubt -whether the benefits of society in its present state compensate for -the evils. Nor is this all, my good friend: its operations are all -iniquitous--iniquitous in their benefits as well as in their wrongs. -One man is as unjustly exalted as another is abased, with a few splendid -exceptions, just sufficient to prove the general rule. Society is, in -fact, the concentration of the whole world's selfishness. But one sort, -even of conventional virtue, is successful at any time, and it is -extolled beyond all praise, rewarded beyond all discrimination; but one -class of vices is punished, and it is persecuted rather than chastised. -The very charge of one of the proscribed sins is sufficient to entail -upon a man a punishment fit for a heinous offence, and in every other -sort of wickedness, a sinner within convention may revel at his will." - -"Nay, you are too severe, General," replied Chandos; "I suffer; but -yet I do not think that society inflicts more hardships upon -individuals than is perhaps inevitable." - -"You say so because you have been accustomed to look at these things -under one aspect alone," answered General Tracy. "Now, think how many -committals take place in the course of the year in proportion to the -convictions. Those can easily be ascertained; for the reports are -published. Then, again, consider how many of the innocent are -condemned, and you will find that an amount of punishment has been -inflicted upon people who do not deserve it, which is more than should -be necessary to chastise proved crime in any well organized state of -society for a population of double the extent of that of Great -Britain." - -"But you assume," rejoined Chandos, "that all who are not convicted -are innocent, which perhaps may not be exactly the case." - -"I assume what the rule of society justifies, and no more," replied -General Tracy. "Every man must be considered innocent till he is -proved guilty." - -"Besides," said the prisoner, "I hope that few of the innocent are -really condemned, even if many of the guilty do not escape." - -"Multitudes are condemned every day," replied his visitor. "I saw a -woman condemned some time ago, a woman in a high rank of life, for -stealing in a shop. She had taken up something off a counter, and -carried it away with her. It was in vain that her habits, her station, -her previous character, her fortune, the very money in her purse at -the moment, were brought forward to prove the improbability of her -filching a toy worth half a crown; the jury condemned her as a lady -thief, and probably would have been hooted had they not done so. And -yet the very same accident which sent her into a court of justice, -occurred to me not ten days ago in London. I went into an inn where I -am well known, with my mind full of anxious thoughts, and sent up to -see if a gentleman I wished to speak with was at home, while I -remained in the coffee-room. I had an umbrella under my arm. There was -another lying on the table near which I stood. I found that the person -I asked for was out; and, without thought, I took up the second -umbrella, and walked away with it. The waiter did not remark what I -was doing, and I had got to the end of two streets, when, to my horror -and consternation, I found that I had one umbrella in my hand and -another under my arm. It is a fact, I can assure you. I carried the -umbrella back instantly, and found the whole house being hunted for -it. 'Remember, my good friend,' I said to the waiter, 'if ever you are -on a jury where no sufficient motive can be assigned for an offence, -that it is well to doubt before you condemn.'" - -"And what did he reply?" asked Chandos. - -"'Very well, Sir.--Number six ringing his bell!'" said the old -officer; "and if the next day he had been on a jury with a lady-thief -case, he would have found the prisoner 'guilty,' and forgotten the -umbrella." - -"I am afraid, then," said Chandos, thoughtfully, "there is very little -chance of my being acquitted." - -"That does not exactly follow," replied General Tracy. "But you bring -me back to the subject from which I have wandered wide. I trust there -is no chance of your being found guilty; for I feel perfectly -convinced of your innocence myself. You could have no motive for -killing your brother's steward." - -"Who was always attached to me from my youth," added Chandos; "and for -whom I ever felt a sincere regard and affection. I wrote him a letter, -indeed, in somewhat cold and formal terms, in regard to his having -opened the drawers in some rooms, the whole contents of which were -left by my father to myself without any reservation; but I did so -because I thought that he had made the examination of which I -complained by the orders of another. I also wished to render the -letter such as he could show, in case of need, as a demand on my part, -that whatever documents were found in those rooms should be safely -preserved for me. This is the only matter in which human ingenuity can -find the shadow of motive for such an act as I am charged with." - -"That will not prove basis sufficient for their accusation," said -General Tracy; "and doubtless, my young friend, if you are well -defended, the whole case against you will fall to the ground. But let -me ask you, if you have taken any means to ensure that good counsel -shall be retained on your behalf." - -"The best in the land," answered Chandos Winslow: "Sir ****, left me a -short time before you were kind enough to come to see me." - -"That was, of course, at your brother's request," said the old -officer. - -"Not in the least," replied the prisoner, sternly; "My brother and -myself, General Tracy, have unfortunately not been friends for some -years, and are less likely to be so now than ever. Sir ****, on the -contrary, is an old and dear friend of mine; and the moment he heard -of my situation from the worthy solicitor in this town, who wrote to -him at my request, he came down to see me himself. My cause could not -be in better hands." - -"Assuredly," answered General Tracy. "But am I then to understand that -your brother has taken no measures for your defence? that he has not -been to see you?" - -"That he has taken no steps I cannot say, for I do not know," was -Chandos Winslow's reply; "but I should think it most improbable. To -see me he has assuredly not been. Nor would I have admitted him -willingly, if he had come." - -"It is very extraordinary," said General Tracy; "he received a letter -suddenly, in the vestry of Northferry church, which we all understood -came from you, and he set out immediately for S----, in order to see -you." - -"The letter doubtless did come from me," replied Chandos; "for I sent -one to him privately, by the intervention of my solicitor. But if he -ever intended to visit me here, he changed his mind by the way; for -certainly he did not come." - -General Tracy mused for a moment. Rose was evidently right in her -suspicions. The letter of Sir William Winslow was not natural. He felt -no affection for the brother by whose situation he pretended to be -moved so much. Even the honour of his house could not be at the bottom -of all the agitation he displayed, if he had taken no measures for his -brother's defence. Did General Tracy's suspicions extend further? -Perhaps they did; but if so he suffered them not to appear, but -proceeded to touch delicately upon some of the principal links in the -chain of evidence against his young companion, leaving him to give any -explanation if he thought fit. - -Chandos listened for some time in silence; but at length he cut short -the observations of the old officer by saying, in a firm and placid -tone, "My dear Sir, it is as well to tell you at once, that there are -particular circumstances which will prevent me from explaining, even -at the trial, many of the facts to which you allude; and if inferences -to my disadvantage are drawn from my silence, I cannot help it. The -motives which actuate me in the line of conduct I have resolved to -pursue are in no degree personal. In fact, I could clear myself--at -least I think so--of all suspicion in five minutes; but I cannot or -rather will not, employ the necessary means to prove my complete -innocence. Doubtless my counsel will adopt a good line of defence, and -I must leave the rest to the will of God." - -"Many persons," replied General Tracy, "would look upon you as guilty, -because you do not choose to explain everything. I am not one of them, -however, my young friend. It is a trick of women and the world to -suppose evil in all that is not made clear; but I can easily conceive -that there may be things hidden by a man, which imply no guilt in him; -and, to say the truth, if I had doubted your innocence of this act, I -should have been convinced of it by your unwillingness to account for -many of the circumstances which give weight to the charge against -you." - -"Many thanks, my dear General, for your good opinion," said Chandos, -"though I do not see exactly how you deduce your effect from your -cause." - -"By one very simple process," answered the General: "though it -is a vulgar error to suppose that terror always follows guilt, -yet every guilty man when placed in a situation of danger strives -eagerly--generally too eagerly--to escape punishment, and devises some -means of explaining away facts which tell against him. Now the absence -of all effort on your part in that direction would be sufficient for -me were there nothing more. But I will tell you, Chandos Winslow, that -there is something more. Your resolution to withhold explanation -excites suspicions, not in regard to yourself, but in regard to -others, which I will not now attempt to define; and undoubtedly as -soon as I return to Northferry, I will cause inquiries to be made for -the purpose of confirming or removing those suspicions. And now tell -me, is there anything I can do for your comfort? What means can be -devised of solacing the weary hours of imprisonment?" - -Chandos Winslow thought for a few moments deeply, and then replied, -holding out his hand to General Tracy, "I thank you most deeply for -your kindness; but let me entreat you not to suffer anything I have -said to cast a suspicion upon others. I have no one to accuse. I meant -not in the least to imply that I am aware of any facts connected with -this sad event. I have my own reasons for the course I follow; but to -explain them would be to debar myself from that course. What you are -pleased to do in the matter, I cannot help; but pray let no inquiries -be founded upon or directed by anything I have said." - -The old officer bowed his head gravely, but merely replied, "What can -we do to give you amusement during your confinement?" - -"Oh, books, General," answered the prisoner; "that is the only solace -allowed me here. If you could send me some of those at my cottage, you -would indeed confer a great favour; for time flies heavily when my own -dull thoughts bear down his wings; but I have often found that the -current of imagination, when directed by authors that we love, has a -buoyancy which bears our dull thoughts away upon the stream, till we -lose sight of them in distance." - -"You shall have your whole library before to-morrow night," -replied General Tracy; "and now farewell. I will see you again; -but if in the meantime I can serve you in any way, write to me at -once." Thus saying, he left him; and immediately on his arrival at -Northferry-house, he inquired strictly of all the servants if they had -seen any one go out into the garden or return from it on the night of -the murder, and at the hour when it was supposed to have taken place. -Only one person, the second footman, recollected any circumstance of -the kind, and he could give no definite information. He said, however, -that just after sunset, as he was shutting the dining-room windows, he -saw somebody pass into the house through the conservatory. He thought -it was like the figure of Sir William Winslow, but he could not affirm -that it was so; and with this confirmation, weak as it was, General -Tracy was forced to be satisfied for the time. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - - -Rose Tracy sat in her own room, with her head resting on her hand. The -tears were streaming from her eyes; and yet the expression of her -countenance was not altogether that of grief. It seemed more as if her -heart and feelings had been touched for another, than as if she were -affected by personal sorrow. Such indeed was the case. The letter -before her was from Horace Fleming. It was the first she had ever -received from him; and it was couched in language which was guarded by -delicate feeling towards her sister, while it plainly suffered to -appear the deep anguish of spirit which he himself endured. - -After wiping the tears from her eyes, she re-read several detached -passages from the letter, which we may as well place before the -reader:-- - -"You will think it strange, my dear Miss Tracy," was the commencement, -"that I should venture to write to you; but you have not only taken a -kind interest in me, and in feelings which I know you saw without -pain; but you also interested yourself much in the poor of my parish, -and in the schools which I had established. However, I will not make -an excuse which is not sincere for writing to you, for I have no one -to whom I can pour out the feelings of my heart but yourself; and I -should have written had my poor and my schools been out of the -question. Your sister, of course, I cannot venture to address, though -I should wish her to know that morning and night I offer earnest -prayers for her happiness, and beseech Him from whom alone all good -things come to avert those evils from her which I, perhaps weakly, -apprehend. I would not have her made aware of the sorrow and -disappointment I myself endure; for, if hers is a cup of joy, the -grief of a friend would but turn the sweet drops to bitterness; and if -it be already bitter, I would not for anything that earth can give add -to the sorrow of one so well deserving happiness." - -After some further expressions of the same kind, he went on to say, -"Do not suppose, however, my dear Miss Tracy, that I give myself up to -grief; I trust that my religious feelings are too strong for that. I -struggle hard to cast all sorrowful thoughts from my mind. I occupy -myself all day in the duties of the small living I hold in this part -of the diocese, and I leave nothing undone--not to drive your sister -from my mind, but--to reconcile myself to the knowledge that she is -lost to me for ever, and to bow my heart humbly before the will of -God. Nevertheless, I think it will be wise for me, in all respects, -not to return to Northferry for some months; for I must avoid -everything that can reawaken regret and make me discontented with the -lot which it has pleased God to assign to me. Under these -circumstances, I will request you, in your kindness, to do one or two -things for me in the parish; for my curate, though an excellent man, -has not much experience, and moreover cannot be so well acquainted -with the wants and character of the people of the place as yourself." - -I will not pause upon all the details he gave, nor mention whom he -recommended to Rose's bounty, nor to whom he called Mr. Tracy's -attention; but will proceed at once to another part of the letter, -which was the only portion thereof in which Rose could be said to have -a personal interest. - -"I have seen in the daily papers," continued Mr. Fleming, "some most -extraordinary statements regarding a horrible event which has taken -place at Northferry, in your own grounds. I allude, of course, to the -murder of Mr. Roberts; and I am shocked to find that an innocent man -has not only been charged with the crime, but has actually been -committed for trial on the coroner's warrant. From your father's -account of his head-gardener, who under the name of Acton excited so -much wonder by his erudition, I was speedily led to believe that he -was superior to the station he assumed. To hear therefore that he was -in reality no other than Mr. Chandos Winslow, did not excite in me the -same surprise which it did, I dare say, in others. I never spoke with -him but once; and then he affected a certain roughness of manner, -mingled strangely enough with quotations from Roman poets; but I saw -him several times at a distance in your grounds, and felt sure from -his walk and carriage that he was no ordinary man. I was informed -accidentally of his relationship to Sir William Winslow the night -before I left Northferry; but little expected to hear such a charge -against him. Doubtless he will be able to prove his innocence; but -still such things ought not to be left to chance, and I shall -therefore tender my evidence, which, if the statements in the -newspapers be correct, must have some weight." - -The letter was dated from Sandbourne Vicarage, a place about forty -miles distant, on the other side of the county; and Rose had just -finished looking over it again, when her maid entered her room to tell -her that a gentleman from London was below in the library, and wished -to speak with her immediately. At the same time the girl handed her a -card, on which was printed a name of which she had no knowledge, -except from having seen it mentioned frequently in the public -journals, as that of the most eminent barrister of the day. - -Putting the letter she had previously received into her bag, she went -down with some degree of trepidation to the library, to meet a -complete, stranger, at a moment when her mind was by no means disposed -to society of any kind; but her visitor soon put her at her ease, by -the winning gentleness of his manner. - -"I have to apologize Miss Tracy," he said, "for intruding thus upon a -lady without any proper introduction; but my anxiety for the safety of -a very dear friend must plead my excuse. Chandos Winslow, whom I think -you know, and whom you must at all events be acquainted with under the -strange guise of a gardener, is an old and intimate acquaintance of -mine; and I have undertaken, against my ordinary rule, to conduct his -defence, in the painful and dangerous circumstances in which he is now -placed." - -"Oh, I am so glad to see you," said Rose; "but your words frighten me. -I had hoped that it would be perfectly easy to establish his -innocence, of which I am sure you can have no more doubt than I have." - -"None," answered the barrister; "but I must not deceive you, my -dear young lady. His case is one of very great danger; for there -never was a stronger chain of circumstantial evidence against any -man than against him. But let us sit down and talk the matter over -calmly;--nay, do not weep;--for on the evidence that you can give, may -very likely depend the result of the trial." - -Rose nevertheless wept only the more from that announcement; for to -think that the life of the man she loved might depend upon the manner -in which she told a tale, simple enough, but susceptible of being -turned in various ways by the skill of any unscrupulous counsel, did -not at all tend to decrease her agitation. - -"This is very foolish of me," she said, at length, drying her eyes; -"but I shall be better in a moment. Pray go on: what is it you wished -to say?" - -"I am altogether stepping out of the ordinary professional course, -Miss Tracy," replied the barrister; "but I have thought it better to -see you myself rather than trust the task to another, in order to -ascertain the nature of the evidence you can give; first, for the -purpose of judging whether it will be expedient to call you at all on -the part of my friend Winslow; and secondly, that I may so direct the -questions to be put to you in your examination in chief as to prevent -the cross-examining counsel from torturing you, or damaging the case -of my client. Winslow tells me that he was speaking with you the -moment before he quitted the garden. Now mind, in anything I say, my -dear young lady, I wish to suggest nothing; for, in the first place, I -am sure you are incapable of falsehood; and in the next, nothing can -serve our friend but the simple truth." - -"But that is quite true," said Rose, "he was speaking with me near a -little basin of gold and silver fish, close by the spot where the body -was afterwards found. He then ran across the path and the greensward -beyond, and jumped over the hedge just above the haw-haw. I can show -you the precise spot." - -"By and by that may be useful," said the other; "but at present tell -me, if you have no objection, what made you part so suddenly?" - -Rose coloured a little: but she replied frankly, "We heard the voices -of two people coming down the arbutus walk, as we call it--a path -bounded by evergreens, which leads, with several turns, into the broad -walk past the fish-pond." - -"Were the persons speaking at any great distance?" inquired the -barrister. - -"In a direct line, I should think forty or fifty yards," she answered; -"but by the arbutus walk more than a hundred, I dare say." - -"Then were they speaking loud that you heard them so far?" asked her -companion; "or only conversing quietly?" - -"Oh, they were speaking very loud and angrily," replied the young -lady, "Sir William Winslow especially." - -"Then Sir William Winslow was one of the speakers," said the -barrister. - -Rose coloured a good deal, and was evidently agitated, but she -answered, "He was, beyond all doubt. His voice is very peculiar. It -was raised high; and I can have no doubt of it." - -The lawyer played slowly with the eye-glass at his buttonhole, and -looked her full in the face; for he saw that there were suspicions in -her mind; but he answered deliberately and with some emphasis: "We -will avoid that point, Miss Tracy, in the examination in chief, and, -if possible, so frame our questions as to give the opposite counsel no -opportunity of inquiring who was the speaker; but, nevertheless, you -may be pressed upon the subject, and then of course the truth must be -told, whatever be the result. Where is Sir William now?" - -"He has gone to the Continent, I believe," said Rose, with some -embarrassment. - -"And probably has taken with him the servants who were here during his -stay," said the lawyer, drily: "nevertheless, we may get at some facts -regarding him, perhaps, from your own domestics. But you will swear he -was in the garden at that hour, should it be needed?" - -"Without hesitation," answered Rose. - -"And that he was conversing in loud and angry tones with some other -person?" continued the barrister. - -"Undoubtedly," she replied. - -"Did you know the other person's voice?" asked her interrogator. - -"No; it was quite strange to me," answered the lady. "It was not the -voice of any of our own people, I am sure; but I remarked that he had -a slight hesitation in his speech; for when he said 'No, Sir William; -I tell you I will not,' he stammered at the word 'tell.'" - -"You heard him say that?" inquired the lawyer. - -"I did, distinctly," she answered; "but that was after Mr. Winslow was -gone." - -A long pause succeeded, during which the barrister seemed totally to -forget Miss Tracy's presence, and leaned his head upon his hand, -looking forth from the window with an air of anxious thoughtfulness. -At length he said, as if reasoning with himself, "Perhaps it might -do--yet it would be a hazardous game--but what is not? I must remember -my promise, however, and that will turn the balance." Then again he -paused and thought; but at length turning to Rose, who began to feel -her position somewhat embarrassing, he said, "I thank you very much, -Miss Tracy, for your frankness, and will make use of your evidence to -a certain extent. It may not be necessary to enter into all the -particulars, and the best way under examination and cross-examination -is to answer perfectly sincerely and frankly the exact question that -is asked, without going at all beyond it. I say this because it must -be a painful thing at any time for a young lady like yourself to be -put into a witness-box. It is true, a better feeling exists at the bar -at present than was to be found some thirty or forty years ago. We do -not now think it necessary to brow-beat a witness, nor clever to -puzzle one, unless we find that there is a determination to conceal -the truth or to pervert it. However, I shall tell the solicitor in the -case to apply to your father, who I find is out, for a list of all the -servants in the family, who could, perhaps, be serviceable as -witnesses on behalf of our poor friend; and if you know of any other -evidence which could be brought forward in his favour, either to show -the probability of the unfortunate gentleman, Mr. Roberts, having been -engaged in a personal dispute with any other person, or to prove that -Chandos could not be guilty of the act, you would--" - -"Why, I have received a letter this very morning," cried Rose, "from a -gentleman who seems to think that his testimony would be important. I -will read you what he says;" and, taking out Mr. Fleming's epistle, -she read all that referred to the case of Chandos Winslow. - -"From whom might that come?" asked the barrister. - -"From the clergyman of our parish," answered Rose, "the Honourable Mr. -Fleming. He is not at all likely to speak without good cause." - -"Might I hear it again?" said the other. - -Rose read it once more; and the lawyer, rising, took up his hat, -saying, "I will go to him at once. There are some remarkable -expressions there. He must have important evidence to give." - -"I think so too," answered Rose Tracy; "for he never lays stress upon -trifles. But yet I cannot see how he can know much, for he was not -here that evening, and went away for Sandbourne early the next -morning, I hear." - -"We cannot tell what information he may possess," said her companion. -"This gentleman is evidently a man of observation and ability. His -character and holy calling will give weight to his testimony; and I -will ascertain this very night what he knows of the circumstances." - -"Unfortunately, he is absent," replied Rose; "Sandbourne, where he now -is, lies fifteen or sixteen miles on the other side of S----." - -The lawyer took out his watch. "That shall not stop me," he said. "It -is now twelve: I can be there before dark, hold a consultation at -S---- after dinner, and get to London by six to-morrow. Thanks to the -marvellous combinations of railroads and post-horses, one sets -distance at defiance. But I must have the address, Miss Tracy, if you -will have the kindness to put it down for me." - -Rose did as he required, and with a certain sort of antique -gallantry--though for his standing in the profession he was a young -man--the great lawyer, in taking his leave, raised his fair -companion's hand to his lips, saying, "If I win this cause, Miss -Tracy, my pleasure will be threefold: first, as I shall save my -friend; secondly, as I shall triumph over some difficulties; and -thirdly, as I shall gain a victory in which I think you have some -interest." - -In four hours he was at the door of Sandbourne Vicarage, for he had -the secret of saving time by casting away sixpences, and the post-boys -did their best. There was some difficulty as to his admission, for the -servant informed him that Mr. Fleming did not like to see any one on -Saturday night after four in the evening, unless the business was very -important. - -"Mine is business of life and death," answered the lawyer, with a -faint and fatigued smile. "Give your master that card, and assure him -I will not detain him long." - -The servant went, returned, and admitted him. He remained nearly -half-an-hour, and when he went forth he shook Mr. Fleming's hand, -saying, "I would mention it to no one, my dear Sir; for we barristers -are sometimes apt to puzzle counsel when we find testimony goes -against us. The only place to state the fact is in the open court." - -Then bidding him adieu, he got into his carriage again, waved his -hand, and the horses dashed away towards S----. - -As soon as he was out of sight of the vicarage, he cast himself back -on the cushions, saying aloud, "Well, this is most extraordinary. -There must be some great falsehood amongst people who all seem the one -more sincere than the other. God grant neither judge nor jury may find -it out; but at all events we must keep to our story. Which shall it -be?--" and, laying his finger on a temple that ached more often than -the world knew of, he gave himself up to contemplation, the result of -which the reader will see hereafter. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - - -We once wandered, dearly beloved reader, you and I together, over some -steep bare hills which lie between Winslow Park and Northferry, -watching Chandos in his gardener's guise, as he travelled towards the -house of Mr. Tracy. Those hills, not at all unlike the Mendips in some -of their features, were somewhat different in others. The high road -took the most sterile and desolate part of them, where the curlew -loved to dwell in solitude, and the wild plover laid her spotted -eggs. But here and there, in their long range--which might extend some -five-and-thirty miles from the spot where they began to tower above -the plain in one county to that where they bend the head again in -another--were some dells and valleys, in which the woods nestled and -the streams glided on. The river which Chandos had swam at Winslow, -and which, passing on, increasing in size, gave to the village or -small town near Mr. Tracy's property the name it bore, by reason of -what is called a horse-ferry established there from time immemorial, -had at some period of the world's history undertaken the troublesome -task of forcing a way for itself through the opposing barrier of hill, -and had somehow succeeded. It is wonderful what feats rivers and -people will perform when they are driven into a corner, and have no -way out of it but by a great effort. Then, when they have accomplished -their task, how they rejoice in the triumphant exertions of their -vigour, and play in scorn with the obstacles they have surmounted. - -In a deep valley amongst those hills, seldom if ever trodden by human -foot--for there was wanting footing for man or beast in many parts of -the gorge--is one scene of exceeding beauty, well worthy of being more -frequently visited than it has been. I know not whether in the spring, -when the young leaves coming out decorate the sides of the dell with -every hue of yellow and green, or in the autumn, when the mellow brown -and red of the decaying year spreads a melancholy splendour over the -woods, the picture is more beautiful; but to see it in its best aspect -must always be when the tears, either of the year's wayward youth or -of its sorrowful age, have been pouring down for some days before. The -reason is this,--that over a high shelf of rock, the river, having -overcome all the obstructions of the previous way, bounds down towards -the goal to which its eager course tends in the distant plains, then -first in sight, and the boughs of a thousand kinds of trees and shrubs -wave round the rejoicing waterfall as if in triumph. It is not indeed -with one boisterous leap that the river springs from the height, some -fifty feet above, to the tumbling pool beneath; but as if at two great -steps it strides upon its way, setting one white foot in foam upon a -rocky point about half-way down, and then again another in the depth -of the valley. A projecting point of crag, upon which a sapling -ash-tree has rooted itself, stands out between the two falls; and -round the point, scattered amongst the roots of the trees, lie -numerous large blocks of stone, riven from the rocks above, in times -the remoteness of which is told by the yellow and white lichens and -green moss with which they are covered. - -About a hundred yards in front of the waterfall, one fine day in the -early spring of the year, when several hours of heavy rain during the -preceding night had gorged the river, and given the cataract the voice -of thunder, sat the gipsey woman, Sally Stanley, with her picturesque -costume in its varied and bright colouring, contrasting beautifully -with the cold gray stone, the rushing water, and the brown tints of -the uncovered branches; while, here and there, an early green leaf, or -the warm reddish brown of the unevolved buds, served to harmonize in -some degree the scene with the glowing hues of her dress, or at all -events to render the contrast not too strong. Nobody else was seen in -the neighbourhood; and yet there were the three cross sticks, with the -suspended pot, the glowing wood fire well piled up, and one small -dingy tent between two large masses of stone. The woman sat beside the -pot and sewed, with her left shoulder turned towards the waterfall, -and her eyes apparently looking down the dell. - -Opposite to her, spanning the river, was a little rude bridge, made -with two trunks of trees, joining a narrow path on the one side to its -continuation on the other which might be seen winding from shelf to -shelf of the rock in its way to the prolongation of the valley above. - -Sally Stanley sat and sewed, as we have said, an unusual occupation -for a gipsey; and while she sewed she sang, a much more frequent -custom of her people. But to neither affair did she seem to give much -attention, turning her ear towards the stream and path, as if for some -expected voice or footfall. - -At length a step was heard; but she made no sudden movement, and with -her head bent, listened still, slowly turning her face in the -direction of the descending path, so as to gain a sight of the person -who was coming down, before he crossed the river. The figure which -appeared was that of a man in the prime of life--in the early prime, -well dressed after a country fashion, bearing himself with a free and -easy air, and, with his well-turned powerful limbs, and fine cut -features, presenting the aspect of as handsome a man as one would wish -to see. - -A faint, almost sad smile came over the face of the gipsey woman; but -she took not the slightest notice till the traveller was in the midst -of the bridge, when, dropping the coarse blue stocking she was -mending, she advanced towards him, and addressed him in the usual cant -of her tribe, begging him to cross her hand and have his destiny told, -and promising him as pretty a fortune, and as extensive a matrimonial -connexion, as any moderate man could well desire. - -Lockwood, for he it was who now approached, laughed, and replied, "I -have not time now, my good girl; for I am hungry, thirsty, sad, and -sorry, and have a long way to go before I can get food, drink, or -consolation." - -"Not so, Master, not so," answered Sally Stanley; "you only cross my -hand with a pretty little half-crown, and I will give you food, drink, -and consolation, such as you cannot get where you are going, I am -sure." - -"That is no bad offer either," answered Lockwood; "and I may as well -sit down by the side of your pot, and have a chat with you, as go and -eat bread and cheese, and drink beer by myself in a frowsy tap-room." - -"A great deal better," said the woman with a laugh. "Where could you -be more comfortable than here, if you were going to the best house in -all the land? Do you think that man builds better than God?" - -"Why, no," answered Lockwood; "and in those respects I am a bit of a -gipsey myself. I am as fond of the free air as any of you, and do not -much fear foul weather, even when Ćolus unchains all his blasts. But -come, let us see your promised fare. I dare say it is of the best in -the county, as you certainly have the choice of all that is going. -Here is your half-crown for you." - -He was soon seated close to where the woman had been previously -sitting, with a deep tin dish upon his knee, while she, with a large -wooden ladle, dipped into the pot and brought up a mixed mess, very -savory to the nose, and consisting a various materials, whereof a fine -turkey's leg was at all events the most conspicuous. Bread she had -none to give him, but a hard biscuit supplied its place very well, and -to say sooth, Lockwood, whose appetite was sharpened by a long walk, -enjoyed his meal exceedingly. - -"Now then," he said, "for your drink and your consolation;" and the -woman brought him forth from her little tent a black bottle, the odour -emitted by which, as soon as the cork was pulled out, announced it as -that liquor to which we justly give the same name that eastern nations -bestow upon an evil spirit. But Lockwood would none of it, and while -he finished the contents of the platter, she brought him a large jug -of water from the stream. - -"Well," he said, after taking a long draught, "I must now wend on my -way." - -"You are in mighty haste," she answered, "to set out for a place you -will not reach." - -"How do you know I will not reach it?" he asked, smiling in his -strength. - -"Because I know all about you," answered Sally Stanley, "where you are -going, why you are going, what has been in your thoughts all the way -from Winslow hither." - -"You are mighty wise," exclaimed Lockwood. "I know well enough that -you gipsies are famous for fishing out of gentlemen's servants all -about their masters and mistresses, but I did not know you troubled -your heads with such people as myself. As to my thoughts, however, -there I defy you." - -"Do you?" said the woman, laughing aloud. "Now I will show you. You -have been thinking of Chandos Winslow, your half-brother, and of the -murder of good old Roberts, the steward; and you have been fancying -that another hand, as near akin to your own, might have shed the blood -that is charged upon Chandos Winslow's; and you are going down to -Northferry to see what you can make out of the case." - -"A marvellous good guess," replied Lockwood; "but I now recollect you, -my pretty brown lass. You are the mother of the boy down at the -cottage; and, like all your people, you are good at putting two and -two together." - -"I am the boy's mother," answered the woman; "but you are wrong in -thinking that is my only way of knowing. I see more things than you -fancy, hear more than people dream of; and I tell you, you will not -get to Northferry to-day nor to-morrow either; nor will you go to the -assizes, nor give your evidence in court: and if you did, you would -only mar what you try to mend." - -"That won't stop me," answered Lockwood sturdily; "truth is truth, and -it shall be told: 'Magna est veritas, et prćvalebit,' my pretty lass. -I will tell my plain, straightforward tale in spite of any one; but I -do not know what you have to do with it, and am rather curious to -hear; for, to tell you the truth, I do not like you the better for -wanting to stop me. If there were any gratitude in human nature, you -would be grateful to Chandos Winslow, for he did all in his power to -make your boy a good scholar and a good Christian: though, by the way, -I suppose you care very little about his being either." - -The woman's eye flashed for an instant, with a very wild and peculiar -gleam in it, which I think I mentioned before, and she answered -vehemently, "You are wrong, Henry Lockwood, you are wrong; I am -grateful to him for everything;" and then she burst into a flood of -tears. - -Lockwood gazed at her with some emotion, and then put his hand kindly -upon her arm, saying, "I did not mean to grieve you, my good woman; -but still I do not understand you rightly: you say that you are -grateful to this young gentleman; and yet you would prevent me from -doing what I can to save him when his life is in danger for another -man's act. You seem to know so much, that perhaps you know more; for -your people are always prying about, and it is not unlikely that some -of them saw the deed done. However, from what you said just now, and -from the way in which you divined what I had been thinking about, I am -sure you do not suspect Chandos Winslow, and that your suspicions take -the same direction as my own; though mine are well nigh certainties, -and yours can be but doubts." - -"Are yours well nigh certainties?" she exclaimed eagerly. "Can you -prove it? Can you satisfy judge and jury? But, no," she added, in a -mournful tone, "it were better not--you cannot prove it--you can have -nothing but suspicions either. You did not see your bad brother's hand -strike the blow--you cannot tell what was the provocation given--you -can mention no cause for a man killing his own steward." - -"Yes I can," answered Lockwood. "The blow struck I certainly did not -see; for I was well nigh two miles off at the time." - -"I know that as well as you do," said the woman with a laugh; "I know -where you were, and all about you. But what is it you can prove if you -were so far distant?" - -"I can prove that there was a cause," answered Lockwood, "a cause for -the act in one case, and none in the other; for the very night before, -poor Roberts found a note in Sir Harry's own handwriting, declaring -that he had left a copy of his second will, dated not five years ago, -in the hands of his eldest son. Roberts showed me the memorandum -himself, the moment after he had found it, and he was as well aware as -I am that Sir William has destroyed the will, because it did not suit -his purposes. Was that not cause enough for giving a knock on the head -to one who possessed such dangerous information? Besides, there is a -great deal more: the very next day he came over to seize on the -furniture in those two rooms, and lock it all up; but I have been -beforehand with him. All the papers that Roberts had found were safe -enough, and the furniture was moved to farmer Richards's great barn -and under my lock and key. He sent me down word that he would -prosecute me. I told him to do so if he dared. But now I must go, my -good woman; and I say the truth shall be told, whatever comes of it." - -"Do you think, Lockwood," asked the gipsey woman, "that if Chandos -Winslow himself had seen the murder committed, he would bring such a -charge against his brother?" - -"Perhaps not," replied Lockwood; "but that is not the question. Here -am I, no way partial in the business, whose duty it is to an innocent -man to tell the truth, whether he wishes it or not; and therefore I -shall go on to Northferry at once, and see Mr. Tracy, and tell him all -I know. If he does not do what is right, I will go on to the lawyers -and tell them." - -"Mr. Tracy you cannot and you will not see," said Sally Stanley. "Have -you not heard he was arrested for debt, and taken to London yesterday -afternoon; and the two girls and their uncle are gone up after him -this morning?" - -"Arrested?" exclaimed Lockwood; "what! the rich Mr. Tracy arrested? he -who was supposed to be the most wealthy man in all the county?" - -"Aye, there it is, Harry Lockwood," said the woman: "that is the -difference between your people and the gipsies. We are content with -food and clothing, the open sunshine, and the free air; but you are -never content. If you are poor you must be rich; if you are rich, you -must be richer. The madness of gain is upon you all; and this wealthy -Mr. Tracy must needs speculate, to make himself more wealthy, till he -has made beggars of himself and his children. All on account of these -railroads, with which they are putting the whole land in fetters; he -who, a month ago, was rolling in riches, has not so much in his pocket -as Sally Stanley, who once begged her bread at a rich man's door, and -was driven away with a cur at her heels. You will not see Mr. Tracy -for a long time to come." - -"Then I will go to the lawyers," rejoined Lockwood; "for the story -shall be told." - -"No, it shall not," answered the woman, "that I am resolved. I tell -you, you will spoil all; and if you leave the matter alone, he is -quite safe." - -"I will not trust to that," answered Lockwood. "There, take off your -hand!--you are not such a fool as to think you can stop me;" and at -the same moment he shook off the grasp which she had laid upon his -arm, somewhat rudely and impatiently, perhaps. - -The next instant his collar was seized by a stout man, who sprang from -behind the masses of broken stone, while another leaped out and caught -his right arm, and a third seized him round the legs and tried to -throw him down. His great strength, however, sufficed to frustrate -their efforts for a moment or two. He disengaged his arm, aimed a blow -at the man who grasped his collar, which was parried with difficulty, -and kicked off the other gipsey who was grasping his legs; but three -or four more came running down from amongst the woods, and after a -sturdy resistance he was overpowered and his hands tied. - -"What the devil do you mean by ill-treating one of our women?" -demanded a tall, powerful fellow, of about fifty years of age. But -Lockwood only replied by a loud laugh; and the gipsey grinned at the -open falsehood of his own pretext. - -"What shall we do with him, Sally?" said the latter, turning to the -woman; "he must be looked sharp after if we are to keep him, for he is -a rough customer, I can tell you." - -"Ah, you have found that out," cried Lockwood; "you will find me -rougher still before I have done with you." - -"Hush! hush!" said Sally Stanley; "take him away and keep him where we -agreed upon. I will find those who will watch him well. You had better -go with them quietly, young man; for you must see by this time that -there is no use of struggling." - -"Not much, I believe," answered Lockwood. "But I should wish to know, -before I go, my good woman, what it is you want, and what you are to -do with me." - -"To keep you from making mischief," replied Sally Stanley. "There, -take him away, lads, and I will come up directly; but mind you keep -him safe." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - - -"This is weary work. Three days have I been alone; without the -sight of any human face but that of the turnkey. How burdensome -becomes the weight of thought as each hour goes by! It presses -upon the brain as if a heavy stone were laid upon the head. What a -terrible thing is solitude, notwithstanding all that Zimmermann has -said of it--notwithstanding all that can be done to alleviate it! But -this is something more than solitude. Alexander Selkirk on his desert -island could change the scene, could vary the occupation every hour. -Now, he could go up the Blue Mountain, and gaze afar, 'the monarch of -all he surveyed.' Then he could wander down to the sea-shore, and send -hope and expectation forth on a voyage of discovery over the green -waters before his eyes, to see if ship or boat from the far native -land were winging its way like a bird towards his place of exile. Or -else memory, like a bark freighted with treasure, would touch the -land, and he would see the stores of other days, the joys, the loves, -the dreams of youth and manhood spread out upon the beach. He could -tame his wild birds or his free goats; he could plant or reap his -little field; he could garner or grind his corn. He was no worse in -fate than Eve-less Adam; and though it may not be good for man to be -alone, yet, when there is variety and occupation, the evil is but -small. Here, what is the variety? Four or five short steps from wall -to wall; the heavy door on one side; the high grated window on the -other. But yet, it might be worse. What a terrible thing solitary -confinement must be! Here the jailor comes in and speaks civilly; will -stop a minute or two to tell you what is going on without; will press -me to walk in the yard, and tell me it is quite airy and _cheerful_. -Cheerful! Good God, what a word in the stony heart of a prison! I -declare I should regard the man who could be cheerful in such a place -as ten times worse than even his crimes had made him. To be cheerful -here would be an aggravation of every offence--and yet, perhaps, I am -wrong. Cheerfulness in some men is constitutional. - -"Oh! yes, it might be worse. To be condemned to perfect solitude, and -silence too, with nothing but thought, thought, thought, rolling one -upon the other, like the eternal billows of a dark and gloomy sea: not -a sight for the eye, not a sound for the ear, till the one became -blind, the other deaf, for want of objects. It is horrible! What -monster could devise such a means of starving the senses one by one, -till the living death of hopeless idiocy became the wretch's fate? -What were the cord, or the axe, or the rack itself to that? Yet, -even that might have an aggravation--if there were guilt upon -the mind--some dark terrible crime--murder!--the death of a -fellow-creature, sent before to be our accuser at God's throne! What -awful storms would then move that black ocean of thought, prolonged -through the whole of life! What would it be with me, even through -three or four short days, when, innocent as I am, the passing of these -solitary hours is well nigh intolerable.--Innocent as I am! Who is -innocent? Who can lay his hand upon his heart, with God and his own -conscience to witness, and say, 'I am innocent; I have done no -wrong?'--Who can arraign the decree of the Almighty which strikes him -for many a hidden fault, through the instrumentality of the false -judgment or iniquitous persecution of his fellow-man? Not I, for one! I -raised my hand against Lord Overton unjustly; I shed his blood, though -I did not take his life; I was a murderer in intention, if not in act; -and now I am accused of--perhaps may suffer for--the death of one whom -I would have shed my own blood to defend. The ways of God are strange -and wonderful, but very just. - -"How curious it is that in solitude all the things we have done amiss -in life return upon the mind, distinct and clear--magnified even, if -faults can be magnified--when in the pleasures, and the business, and -the every-day cares of life, we forget them totally! And yet man was -evidently meant for society. Is it that the ever-present consciousness -of our errors in this mortal state, would be a burden too heavy to -bear, were there not an alleviation in the thoughtful absorption of -the world's concerns--a burden which even faith in a Saviour (as far -as man's weakness will permit him to have faith) would not be -sufficient to relieve, unless his worldly carelessness lightened the -load, by deceiving him as to the weight? Perhaps it may be so; and -yet, it is strange how often in this life, our weakness is our -strength. Since I have been here, how reproachfully acts which I -thought before perfectly venial have risen up in judgment against me I -how dark have seemed many deeds committed! how sadly ungrateful many -an omission has appeared! And shall not the same be the case -hereafter? When a few hours of solitude are sufficient to draw back -thus far the glittering veil which habit and the world cast over our -faults, what will be the terrible sight when that veil is torn away -altogether, and the dark array of a whole life's sins and follies -stand naked and undisguised before us!--when the voice of conscience, -fully awakened, never to sleep again, exclaims, 'Lo your own acts! The -children of your mortal life! The witnesses against you for -eternity!'" - -The above is an extract from a journal of Chandos Winslow, kept during -his imprisonment. I know that such grave subjects are not palatable to -most readers: they call them _longueurs_; they skip them; they want -the story, nothing more. Let them do as they please; the extract was -necessary to the depiction of the character. But I must show another -side of it also--a somewhat lighter and more cheerful one; but still -one which is as likely to be skipped as the other, by the mere -novel-reader. For some time Chandos went on in the same strain of -gloomy thought; and occasionally dark forebodings would mingle with -the text: for the more he reflected upon the course he had determined -to pursue, the more difficult, nay, hopeless, seemed to be the attempt -to defend himself. At length, however, came the following passage:-- - -"But I will have no more of such reveries. It is very strange, that -for the last four days I have not been able to read. The small space -of my brain seems too much crowded with thoughts of my own, to give -other people's thoughts admission. I will force myself to read, -however; and think of what I read." - -Then came another passage, evidently after he had been reading for -some time. - -"I know not how it is, but none of these Italian poets interest me -much--perhaps the most, that mad-cap Ariosto. There is a reckless -vigour about him which none of the rest possesses; and their -prettinesses tire. Tasso is certainly very sweet and very graceful, -but seldom powerful; and Dante, dark, terrible, and stern, wants the -relief of beauty. His Inferno is certainly a grand poem, the -personification of thousand hates and vengeances; but the Paradise is -a poor affair. - -"It is very strange how much more difficult men find it to imagine and -to paint perfect happiness than exquisite torture. Perhaps it is -because in this life we are much more familiar with pain than -pleasure. Pain and grief are to human beings, positive; our greatest -happiness here below rarely more than negative--at all events, never -unmixed. But in none of the Italians do we find the grand march, the -sustained majesty of the Greeks and the Romans. I cannot help thinking -that Boccaccio had more poetry in his nature than most of his -brethren; and there are some fine passages in his great poem, -notwithstanding its many wants. Many of his novels, too, are full of -poetry. But, after all, ten lines of Homer are worth all the Italian -poetry that ever was written. Alfieri seems to have felt this -inferiority of the poets of Italy to the ancients, even too much; and -the effect has been a stiffness in his writings, produced by aiming at -dignity in a language which is not dignified. When the thought itself -is grand, its grandeur can only be preserved in so weak a tongue by -clothing it in the very simplest words. Dante was not alone aware of -this, but was impelled to that course by his own sharp character. He -never strove to embellish by mere words, though sometimes, as if to -impress the idea upon the reader's mind, he reiterates it in another -form, venturing upon pleonasm as a means of force, in which he was -probably mistaken; at least, the effect upon my mind is always -disagreeable. It would be better if the verses were spoken. I cannot -but think--though perhaps it is national partiality--that the poets of -England are superior to any that have ever lived since the fall of the -Roman empire. The French have no poetry. The Germans have two or three -great poets; but their literature may be considered as yet in its -infancy. The Spaniards have some beautiful poems, it is true; but in -all of them are blemishes which overbalance the perfections. In the -English tongue there has been excellent poetry enough written in every -different style and manner, to supply the whole world. A crowd of our -poets are unknown even to ourselves; and many of the very best are -imperfectly known, and that but to a few. The sonnet, indeed, attained -its highest point with Petrarch; and yet how beautiful are some of Sir -Philip Sidney's!--for instance, the one beginning-- - - - 'No more, my dear, no more these councils try, - Oh give my passions leave to run their race.' - - -I forget the rest. My memory fails me sadly. What a strange thing -memory is! It seems as if the brain had a court painter, who sketches -rapidly everything presented to the senses; and then the pictures are -pushed into the lumber-room of the past, to grow dim and mouldy, with -the smoke and damp of years, till they are wanted, when they are taken -forth again, and the dust is brushed off, though sometimes not -entirely--But who have we here? It is not the turnkey's hour." - -Here ends the journal for the time; and it may be as well to -inquire, what was the circumstance which caused the interruption; for -it gave Chandos sufficient thought for the rest of the day. - -Just as he had written the last words his solicitor was admitted, a -shrewd little elderly man, not without some kindness of disposition, -and with a great talent for making himself useful in small things, -which is one of the most serviceable qualities to himself that a man -can possess. His ostensible object was to tell Chandos that he had -been to London for the purpose of holding a consultation upon his -case, and to cheer him up with the prospect of certain acquittal; for -as physicians often think it necessary (and with good reason) to keep -up the spirits of their patients, as long as there is any hope, by -assuring them of recovery, so the solicitors in criminal causes judge -it right to comfort the accused by promising them acquittal. I do -believe that, there never yet was a man hanged, who had a hundred -pounds to fee lawyers, without being promised, in the words of the -toast, "long life and prosperity," till the very moment when the jury -gave their verdict. But the worthy solicitor had another object too, -it would seem; for as soon as he had disposed of all the evidence -which had struck the great barrister as so important with a mere -"Pshaw! we will soon get over that," he slipped a letter into -Chandos's hand, saying, "That came to my office for you while I was -gone, and I brought it myself; for you know they have a trick of -opening prisoners' letters here. I gave General Tracy a hint, that all -your friends had better address under cover to me; and if you have any -answer to send, let it be ready and give it to me to-morrow. Keep it -close until I am gone, and then you can read it at your leisure." - -Chandos Winslow had glanced at the address, and had seen that the -handwriting was that of a lady. He had never seen Rose Tracy's -writing. The letter might come from either of a dozen other persons, -friends or relations, who had heard of his situation, and might wish -to express sympathy and kindness. Nevertheless Chandos did not doubt -who was the writer; and as soon as the solicitor was gone, he tore it -open, and pressed his lips on the name at the bottom. - -"Dear Mr. Winslow," the letter began.--There had evidently been a -struggle how to commence it. She had even blotted the words Mr. -Winslow, though Rose Tracy was not apt to blot her letters. The -prisoner thought that he could discern the name of Chandos traced and -erased beneath; and he murmured to himself, "She might have left it." - -"Dear Mr. Winslow," wrote Rose Tracy, "although I write under great -distress of mind, from the very painful circumstances in which my -father has been placed by the failure of some extensive speculations -in which he was unfortunately led to engage, I cannot quit Northferry -without writing you a few lines (for doing which I have my uncle's -sanction) to say, that I am ready and willing to come down and give -evidence at the approaching trial; being perfectly certain of your -innocence, and believing in my heart that the crime of which you are -accused was committed by one of those persons whose voices we both -heard when we last met. I have thought it necessary to write upon this -subject, because your friend, Sir ---- seemed to doubt whether you -would wish to call me as a witness. I thank you most sincerely for -seeking to spare me the agitation which public examination in a court -of justice must always cause; and I thank you still more for that -delicate sense of honour which I know is one great cause of your -hesitation. But I do beseech you, do not let any such feelings prevent -you from using the means necessary to your exculpation. I know the -world may blame me, when it is made public, that I was aware of your -name and family; that I did not inform my father of the fact; and that -I saw you at the same spot more than once--I dare not say by accident. -The blame will perhaps be just, and probably will be more severe than -if all the truth could be stated; but I will put it to your own heart, -my friend, how much less grief the severest censure of the world would -cause than to think that you had been lost for want of my testimony. -Oh, spare me that pain, Chandos! spare me the most terrible anguish -that could be inflicted on - - "ROSE TRACY." - - -Chandos kissed the letter over and over again. It is wonderful in the -moments of distress and abandonment, when false friends forsake, and -the light world of acquaintances shun us, how sweetly, how cheeringly, -even small testimonies of undiminished regard come to us from the true -and firm. Oh, how Chandos Winslow loved Rose Tracy at that moment! How -he longed to tell her the sensations that her generous anxiety to save -him even at the expense of pain and shame to herself inspired in his -bosom! He dared not, however, write all he felt; but in the course of -that evening he expressed his thanks in a way which he thought would -shadow forth, to her eye at least, the deeper feelings which he could -not venture to dwell upon. To write the letter was a happiness to him; -but when he came to conclude it with a "farewell," something seemed to -ask him, if it might not be the last. He fell into deep, sad thought -again, and gloomy despondency took possession of him altogether. He -thought he could have been careless of life but for Rose Tracy; and he -felt sadly how acuminated and intense become the affections which -attach us to existence here when they all centre in one object. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII. - - -The assizes were opened at the town of S---- with all due solemnity. -There were sheriffs, and magistrates, and town council, and -javelin-men, all on the move. The judges went to church and to dinner. -The day of that most disgraceful of exhibitions, an assize ball, was -fixed, and the grand jury was sworn and charged. Did a grand jury -perform its functions properly, or even know all its attributes as -they were formerly exercised, and still exist, it would be one of the -most useful institutions in the monarchy; but, alas! its just -attributes are nearly forgotten, its functions are falling into -desuetude, and it confines its operations, almost always, to returning -as true those bills presented to it which have even a shadow of -probability on their side; or, instead of denouncing real and serious -evils, to the presentment of waggons overthrown and suffocating -court-houses. - -The lawyers were seen flitting about the streets; the usual morning -consultations and evening revels took place: witnesses and jurymen -crowded the inns; an enormous quantity of bad port, bad sherry, and -worse madeira, was consumed; and solicitors merited well the simile -applied by sailors to personages who are peculiarly busy. - -The calendar was very heavy. Nine very hard-fisted farmers had had -their ricks burnt; a manufacturer who indulged in truck, and was -notorious for reductions on Saturday, had been awoke in the night by -the blowing up of one of his factories; there had been a riot in one -of the workhouses where the poor were starved according to law, on the -pretence of feeding them, and punished for complaining. The -magistrate, wisely or unwisely, had sent the case to the sessions; and -it was flanked by those of a man who had died from the neglect of a -relieving officer, and a woman who had drowned her child from the -insanity of destitution. There were several affrays with poachers, in -which blood had been shed; and that of two gentlemen, who had first -horsewhipped and then shot at each other, to the extinction of one -life, and the risk of both. In short, it was an edifying display of -the results of civilization up to the period at which we have now -arrived, and of the peculiarly polished state of England, and its -respect for social order. I say nothing of the brotherly love, the -Christian charity, and the enlightened benevolence which oozed out -through the pores of the calendar. Verily it was fitted to raise us -high in the eyes of Europe. - -It is marvellous with what celerity the grand jury returned true bills -against the whole of the accused. Did I say against the whole? It was -a mistake. Out of a hundred and thirty-four cases, they threw out one, -just to keep up the privilege of rejection. It was the case of a small -proprietor who had knocked down in the presence of three or four men, -a rascally labourer, who would insist upon passing along a path which -had been used by his ancestors for five generations. They threw it -out, however, and the path was closed thenceforth to all men for ever -and aye. - -Amongst the other bills found, was one against Chandos Winslow, Esq., -for the wilful murder of John Roberts, attorney-al-law, &c. &c. &c. -But it was a late case on the roll, and a good deal of condemnation -was done before that came on. The first sharp appetite was taken off -from both judge and jury, and the solicitor congratulated himself and -his client on the hanging period of the assizes being on the decline. -It is strange and not pleasant to think of, on how many small -circumstances a man's life hangs in the most civilized countries of -Europe, especially in the most Christian. A famished juror or two will -turn the balance any day; and I fear me that hunger is not an appetite -which leans to mercy. The beginning of the assizes is always a bad -time to be tried. I would not advise my felonious friend to attempt it -if it can be put off. The jury then think themselves a many-headed -Aristides. Brutus was nothing to them, and Cato a mere babe. They -would condemn their own children to magnify the law. Then, again, the -end of the assizes is as bad; for both judge and jurymen have got -tired of the thing, and want to get home to their wives and families. -This can only be accomplished by despatching their men out of hand; -and haste is always cruel, rarely just. - -The charge of the judge to the grand jury is a more important matter -than people generally imagine. It is treated as a matter of course: or -at best as an opportunity afforded once in so many months for a great -functionary to make a clever speech on a very favourable subject. But -it is much more than this. It frequently gives a tone to the whole -proceedings of the court. From the grand jury it is reflected upon the -petty jury, and affects them more than it does the former. If the -judge represents strongly the serious increase of crime upon the -calendar, and urges the necessity of vindicating the law and rigidly -administering justice, the Aristides' spirit I have talked of becomes -very rampant, and you are sure to hear, "Guilty, my lord," very -frequently repeated in the court. If, on the contrary, he -congratulates the county on the small amount of crime that has -occurred since last he was seated in that place, and declares that -there are but one or two serious cases for their consideration, the -worthy jurymen think, when there are so few, it may be just as well to -let the poor fellows get off, as it is cold work hanging without -company. - -As I have said, however, the calendar was heavy, and the judge made a -very serious and impressive charge, alluding particularly to the case -of the murder of Mr. Roberts. He called the attention of the grand -jury particularly to it; recommended them to cast from their minds -everything they had heard, and to consider the matter simply on the -testimony which supported the charge. He represented their duties as -merely preliminary; (in which, indeed, he was right;) but though he -never mentioned the name of the accused person, he declared the act to -have been most barbarous and horrible; spoke of the deceased as an -innocent, honourable, industrious man, whose murder was an awful stain -upon the county and the kingdom; and in aggravating the heinousness of -the offence, produced, naturally enough, a very unfavourable opinion -of the person charged with committing it. While he was speaking in -reprobation of the crime with so much eloquence, the minds of the -grand jury necessarily connected it with Chandos Winslow as the -perpetrator, and of course they returned a true bill, as they would -have done had not the evidence been half so strong against him. It is -very possible that the grand jury did dismiss from their minds all -they had heard before, though that is rarely done, and little to be -expected; but they assuredly did not dismiss from their minds the -judge's charge, and that was quite sufficient. - -The speech of his lordship was printed and circulated in the town of -S---- that night, and when the solicitor read it, he muttered between -his teeth, "He will sum up against the prisoner, that is clear. Our -only hope is in the striking of the jury." - -How horrible that any man should be able to divine, or pretend to -divine, how a judge will sum up in a case, the evidence upon which is -not yet before him! But, nevertheless, a solicitor of experience is -seldom wrong in such matters. - -Chandos Winslow, too, read the charge, and came to the same -conclusion. In the cold and measured phrase, in the well-poised and -cautious words, even in the scrupulous abstinence from all allusion to -himself, he saw an impression against him, and was sure that it had -not only been felt, but communicated. The most deadly poison is that -which acts with the least outward signs. He thought over the -circumstances deeply, and remained in thought for many hours. He tried -to view his own case as if it were not his own. He recalled every -fact, and arranged the one in connexion with the other. He separated -what he himself knew, but was resolved not to communicate, from that -which was before the public eye, and a terrible mass of criminatory -circumstances was left unmixed. He looked at the whole steadfastly and -resolutely, and he asked himself what he had to oppose to it. The -answer was--"Nothing." - -Vague professions of innocence, the testimony of persons who had known -him long to his general character--this was all; but he knew well that -all this was nothing in a case like that before him. He was aware, -moreover, that the refusal to give explanations would be construed -into a mere consciousness of guilt, and yet he could neither do away -the presumption of crime which existed in a thousand of the facts -against him, nor even account for one moment of his time without -casting back the charge of murder upon his own brother. It was a -terrible situation. The thought of Rose Tracy aggravated it, shook his -firmness, made his resolution waver; and starting up, he paced his -cell backwards and forwards for some minutes. But he conquered -himself; he conquered the repugnance to death and cold forgetfulness; -he conquered the clinging of the heart to life and love, and he sat -down again, saying aloud, "No, I will not be the destroyer of my -brother." - -I will not say that hope went out, for the hope beyond this life -remained; but the hope of saving himself, the hope of his counsel -making any available defence, passed away as he reviewed the strong -presumptive proofs against him, spreading out, link after link, in a -long chain, which bound him ready for a death of ignominy. He made up -his mind to it. He gave up the consideration of the charge and the -defence. He took one step over the earthly future, and, as if standing -at the ports of the tomb, he ventured to cast his eyes beyond. It is, -it must be, an awful moment for any man, when the words of fate are -pronounced and heard, when the irreversible decree has been notified -to us, "This night shall thy soul be required of thee!" when all the -soft ties are to be broken; when all the warm affections are to come -to an end; when all the new cold things of an untried fate are before -us, and the prospect from the top of the bleak hill of death swells -into eternity. Then comes the terrible question, "How shall I answer -at the Throne of one perfectly pure, perfectly holy, for all the -trespasses committed in this mortal state? how have I stood the trial, -trod the path assigned to me? how have I fought the fight? how have I -employed the talent?" - -Who is there at such a moment that can dare to answer, "Well?" - -What would it be, when the presence of an earthly judge is terrible to -an offender, to plead one's own cause, to be one's own advocate before -the Almighty and Omniscient; to stand polluted in the Holy of Holies, -in the presence of Him who will not behold iniquity? But there is an -Advocate to raise his voice in our behalf; not to defend, but to -mediate, to justify us by his righteousness, to atone for us by his -blood, to make the compensation which eternal justice requires for -sin, and reconcile the offending creature to the offended Creator. - -To Him Chandos Winslow raised his spirit in faith, and his voice in -prayer, and he found strength that no philosophy can give, hope when -all the hopes of earth had passed away. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX. - - -It was the morning of Thursday, and generally understood that the -trial of Mr. Chandos Winslow, for the murder of his late father's -steward, would come on that day. Moreover, it appeared likely that the -case would occupy two days, unless it was early called on, as the -number of witnesses was considerable. Those who are knowing in such -things considered the arrangement as rather ominous: Friday being -looked upon as an excellent day for condemnation. The court was -crowded to suffocation; but the spectators had a long time to wait ere -they had the pleasure of seeing a gentleman placed in the felon's -dock. The court was occupied during the greater part of the morning -with cases of small interest; and, between two and three in the -afternoon, the crowd began in some degree to diminish; many persons -growing tired, and a belief becoming prevalent that the cause would -not be tried that day. - -At length, however, when it was least expected, the cause was called -on, and two or three solicitors' clerks ran out of the court to call -the counsel in the case. The appearance of the leader for the crown -excited some attention; but that of the famous barrister, whom every -one knew to have been brought down especially from London, and who was -generally reported to be the intimate friend of the prisoner, created -a murmur which lasted for some minutes. The two lawyers were in the -court, before Chandos Winslow was placed in the dock; for the officers -of the prison had been taken somewhat by surprise, from the rapidity -with which the preceding case had been brought to a conclusion. After -a momentary pause, however, the accused appeared, and there was an -instant movement, causing a good deal of confusion, from many persons -endeavouring to gain a better sight of the prisoner. - -It is probable that every one expected to behold a very different sort -of person from that which was now presented to him; but certain it is, -that the actual impression produced was highly favourable. The tall, -commanding, manly form; the air of calm unembarrassed grace; the -grave, but firm, and almost stern look; the lofty brow and speaking -eye; the lip that quivered a little with irrepressible emotion, at -being made the gazing-stock of thousands: all excited in the multitude -those feelings of admiration which predispose to sympathy and -confidence. Bearing his head high, with his shoulders thrown back, and -his chest open, with his eye fixed tranquilly on the judge, and his -step as firm as if he had been treading his father's halls, Chandos -Winslow advanced to the front of the dock; and immediately his friend -Sir ---- rose from his place, and with a kindly nod of the head, spoke -to him for a few moments, as if to show all persons that he was proud -of his friendship. - -The indictment was read, setting forth in various counts the charge -against the prisoner. Sir ----, desired to see the instrument, and -then merely remarked, that it was bad in law, and could not be -sustained. - -"When the case for the defence comes on, I will hear your objection," -said the judge. - -"I do not know that it will be necessary, my lord;" replied the -counsel. "My friend and client has an invincible objection to take -advantage of any technicality; and, I think, we can do without a flaw, -although I may judge it my duty to show your lordship that there is a -fatal one in this indictment." - -When called upon to plead, Chandos replied, "Not guilty," in a firm, -slow, and distinct voice; and the confident tone of the leader for the -defence, as well as the calm self-possession of the prisoner, had its -effect both upon the spectators and the jury. It was soon to be driven -away, however; for the leader for the crown rose after a few words -from a junior; and a very different impression was speedily produced. -The lawyer who conducted the prosecution was a tall handsome man, with -strongly marked and expressive features, a powerful and flexible -voice, and great dignity of manner. He had one quality, however, which -was greatly in favour of a prisoner if he were retained as counsel for -the defence, but which told sadly against him if he appeared on behalf -of the crown. He seemed--it was merely seeming--so fully, so firmly -convinced of the justice of the cause he advocated, his manner was so -sincere, his apparent candour so great, that the jury, thoroughly -believing he had no doubt, and weighing their wits against his, -naturally asked themselves, "If so learned and shrewd a man has -arrived at this conclusion, why should we venture to differ from him?" - -On the present occasion, he paused for an instant and rested his hand -upon the table, as if almost overpowered by his feelings--he never was -calmer in his life--and then, raising his head, went on, with the -clear, distinct, grave tones of his voice penetrating into every part -of the court, in which there reigned a dead silence. - -"My lord, and gentlemen of the jury," he said, "the most painful task -of a life that has not been free from sorrows is imposed upon me this -day; and I know--I feel--that I shall acquit myself ill. I beg you, -therefore, to bear with me, if my statements are not so clear, if my -reasonings are not so forcible as they ought to be; for, in my anxiety -not to press anything too heavily against the prisoner at the bar, I -fear I may fall into the opposite error, and not give due weight to -many minor facts necessary to a full elucidation of the subject. That -error, however, is far less important than the grave and serious -fault--I might almost call it a crime, in a person in my present -position--of suffering either professional vanity, or the spirit of -partisanship, to seduce me into urging anything unjustly against a -prisoner under trial. Into that fault, at least, I will not fall--of -that crime, I will not render myself guilty. I will make no statement -that I do not feel sure will be borne out by evidence, I will use no -argument which may not be justly applied; and I do assure the court, -aye, and the prisoner, that, if I could have avoided the task, I would -have done so; that if he can prove himself innocent, I shall rejoice; -and if my learned friend can show that my reasonings are not just, my -views erroneous, I shall have a triumph in defeat, and sincere -satisfaction in a verdict against me. But I have a high and solemn -duty to perform to my country, gentlemen of the jury, as you have -also; and we must not suffer any personal feeling to interfere with -its due execution. We must recollect, that mercy to a criminal is -cruelty to society, and that to spare the offender is to encourage the -offence. With these views, I will 'nothing extenuate nor set down -aught in malice,' but succinctly state to you the facts, as many -witnesses will afterwards prove them, omitting all that seems to me -doubtful, and urging nothing that is not necessary to the due -understanding of the case. On the evening of the fifth of February, -gentlemen of the jury, a highly respectable gentleman, of the name of -Roberts, called at the house of Mr. Tracy, of Northferry, in this -county, and inquired for a person of the name of Acton, under which -name, or _alias_, as it is termed, you will find that the prisoner is -also indicted. This Mr. Roberts, it will be shown to you, was the -steward and confidential law agent of the late Sir Harry Winslow, a -gentleman of large property in this county; and in that capacity he -was well acquainted and had had numerous transactions with the younger -son of Sir Harry, a young gentleman, I must say, bearing a very high -character, but, at the same time, of a disposition to which I can only -apply the terms of _sharp_ and _vindictive_, as I shall be enabled to -show. This person, known by the name of Acton, was at the time acting -in the capacity of head-gardener, at the house of Mr. Tracy, where he -had been for nearly three months, or ever since the death of Sir Harry -Winslow. Upon my life, gentlemen of the jury, if the truth of the -whole were not too fatally established, I might think I was reciting a -romance. Mr. Roberts did not mention his business with the person he -inquired for, but being perfectly respectable in his exterior, was -directed by the servants to seek the head-gardener in the grounds, -where he was usually to be found at this hour. Now those grounds are -very extensive, and an authentic plan has been taken of them--I hold -it in my hand--of which a copy has been furnished for your guidance. -You will there see that the real front of the house is turned towards -the gardens, which are remarkable, I am told, for their beauty and -high cultivation: an earthly Paradise, into which murder now first -entered. Before the house is a very extensive lawn, bordered with -thick shrubberies, through which run several gravel walks. This lawn -is terminated by a belt of planting irregularly disposed, so as to -admit here and there views of the distant country to any eye looking -from the windows of the house; but completely concealing a second -lawn, somewhat less in extent, surrounded again by other shrubberies -and other walks, sloping down with a gradual descent to the open -fields, (also the property of Mr. Tracy,) from which the grounds are -separated by a hedge, and in some places by that peculiar species of -enclosure called a haw-haw, or sunk wall, with a broad ditch on the -external side, faced on the side of the grounds with perpendicular -masonry, surmounted by a holly hedge; number 5 in the plan, gentlemen -of the jury. In the inside of this haw-haw and the hedge which forms -its continuation, is a broad walk under beech-trees, called the Lady's -Walk; but just opposite to the part of the walk where the figure 5 -appears, the beech-trees are interrupted, and a plot of grass occupies -the semicircular opening in the wood, in the bite or crescent of which -is situated a small building, in imitation of a Greek temple, covering -a fish-pond. Between that fish-pond and the haw-haw is a space of -about twenty-five yards, which is the scene of the tragedy that is -under our consideration: a narrow strip for so terrible an event. You -will see that the broad gravel path, called the Lady's Walk, passes -close to the little building, the temple, number 7 in the plan. -Another walk, winding round the two lawns, and through the thick -shrubberies, conducts to the western side of the building, where it -enters the Lady's Walk. Down this winding path, it is probable, that -poor Mr. Roberts came to meet his death, as it will be proved that he -crossed the first lawn (number 2) towards it from the western side of -the house. I should have mentioned that the hour at which he asked for -Acton, the head-gardener, was five in the evening, when the sun is -just down at that period of the year, but when the twilight is still -clear. He was never seen alive afterwards, that we know of, but by his -murderer; and about ten at night he was found lying on the grass -between the little temple and the haw-haw, with two severe blows on -the head, one of which had fractured the skull, and so severely -injured the brain that death must have been instantaneous. By his side -was found an implement used in gardening, and called, I believe, a -Dutch hoe, which will be produced for your inspection. It was -covered--at least, the iron head was covered--with blood and grey -hair, and the surgeon who made a post mortem examination of the body -will prove, that the wound which produced death must have been -inflicted by an instrument very similar. Such are the bare facts of -the murder of Mr. Roberts as they appear beyond all doubt; and I now -approach with deep pain, reluctance, and even diffidence, the -circumstances which connect the prisoner at the bar with the fatal -event. First, gentlemen, it will be my duty to show you that the -person who, under the name of Acton, filled the humble situation of -head-gardener to Mr. Tracy, of Northferry, is one and the same person -as Mr. Chandos Winslow, younger son of the late Sir Harry Winslow, of -Elmsly and Winslow Abbey, in this county. It might be irrelevant to -inquire what induced a gentleman of such birth and pretensions to -condescend to such an office, but if it could be shown that he quitted -his brother's mansion and abandoned the society in which he had moved -from his birth on some disgust, occasioned by transactions in which -this very unfortunate Mr. Roberts had a share, it might, indeed, be -important in establishing a motive for the act with which he is -charged." - -Sir ---- instantly rose, and said aloud, "I hope my learned brother -will not make insinuations which he is not able fully to bear out by -evidence." - -"If my learned friend had not interrupted me," replied the leader for -the Crown, "he would have heard me declare that I was unwilling to -press against the prisoner anything that could not be proved beyond -all doubt; and therefore, that it was not my intention to connect any -former disputes between the prisoner and the unhappy Mr. Roberts with -the present charge; but to beg the jury to dismiss from their minds -everything in their consideration of motives but the actual subject of -dispute which I am about to allude to, and which can be proved by -evidence unimpeachable." - -"I must beg the interference of the court in protection of my client," -said the prisoner's counsel, in a firm and stern tone; "it is contrary -to all practice, and, I must add, contrary to all justice, to allude -to imaginary circumstances as facts when there is no intention of -proving them, thereby producing an impression upon the minds of the -jury most detrimental to a prisoner, without giving the prisoner's -counsel a fair opportunity of removing it. Were it not a most -dangerous precedent, I should say that I am very glad such a course -has been pursued by my learned friend, as, in this case, I am in a -condition to rebut his insinuations as well as to disprove his facts; -but, reverencing law and justice, and seeing great inconvenience -likely to occur hereafter from such a practice, I must most solemnly -claim the protection of the court for my client." - -"The jury will rely only upon evidence," said the judge; "the -assertions or insinuations of counsel, unsupported by evidence, are -mere wind. The course of alluding even to any circumstance not -intended to be proved, I must say, is very mischievous; but I dare say -it was in the brief." - -"I bow to the decision of the court," said the leader for the Crown; -"but I can assure my learned friend, that I intended to produce no -impression upon the minds of the jury but a just one; and, without at -all recurring to the past, I am perfectly prepared to show by evidence -that at the time the murder was committed, the prisoner at the bar and -the unfortunate Mr. Roberts were engaged in a very sharp dispute about -some property left to the former. I have said, gentlemen of the jury," -he continued, with perfect tranquillity and satisfaction, "that it -would be irrelevant to inquire what could induce a gentleman of the -prisoner's rank and pretensions to accept the humble post of gardener -in the family of Mr. Tracy. However, the fact that he did so will be -established, and in that situation he inhabited a cottage (number 9 in -the plan) close to the hedge bordering the Lady's Walk, and was -entrusted with a key of the small gate into the grounds (at number -10.) It will be in evidence, gentlemen, that after having been absent -for about a month, by Mr. Tracy's permission, during which he had -resumed his station, mingled with his own rank of society in London, -and fought a duel with Viscount Overton, in which the latter was -desperately wounded, the prisoner returned to his cottage at -Northferry on the afternoon of the fifth of February, the day of the -murder, and almost immediately went out again. It will be shown to -you, that the sun was then setting, or had already set, and that he -entered the gardens, and took his way towards the very spot where the -crime was committed, having in his hand the identical hoe (or one -precisely similar) which was afterwards found by the dead body. This -will be proved by two witnesses, whose veracity will not, I presume, -be impeached. You will soon have it in evidence, that he did not -return to his cottage till six, when he was in a state of much -agitation; that he then went to his room, and, after washing his -hands, threw the water he had used for the purpose out of the window; -but that, nevertheless, there was upon the towel a red stain, as of -blood diluted with water. You will find, that one arm of the fustian -coat which he wore that night was stained with blood; and it will be -also shown that footmarks, exactly corresponding with the shoes he -wore, even to the most minute particulars, were found coming and going -from the spot where the murdered man lay to the haw-haw. Now, -gentlemen of the jury, it may seem difficult to prove to you that the -murder, which was not discovered till ten, took place between the -hours of five and six. There would indeed be a presumption that such -was the case, from the fact of Mr. Roberts having gone down in that -direction at five in search of the prisoner, who was then in the -garden, and never having got further than the Lady's Walk; but still -there would be a doubt, and I should be the first to entreat you to -give the person accused the benefit of that doubt. But, unfortunately, -I regret most deeply to say it, by one of those strange accidents -which ever, sooner or later, bring their guilt home to the -perpetrators of great crimes, I have the means of showing that the -fatal deed must have been done some time between ten minutes or a -quarter after five and half-past five." Sir ---- leaned forward and -listened eagerly, and the leader for the prosecution continued, with -an air of solemn sadness, "I allow from ten minutes to a quarter of an -hour for any error that Mr. Tracy's servants may have made in regard -to the time of Mr. Roberts' visit to the house, and for the time -occupied by him in seeking through the grounds for the prisoner; but -at half-past five, it then being almost dark, a little boy, the son of -a gipsey woman, saw, in passing along as he returned from the school -at Northferry, a dark body lying on the ground, like the figure of a -man asleep, close by the little fish-pond or basin near which Mr. -Roberts was murdered. The boy's history is not without its interest. -He had, it seems, aided in saving the life of General Tracy, Mr. -Tracy's elder brother, from the attack of a furious bull. The General, -in gratitude, took the boy under his protection, and placed him to -board at the cottage of the head-gardener. The hour at which he -ought to have returned from school to the cottage was somewhat -earlier--about five, I believe; but he met with his mother in the -village, and lingered for a time with her. In order to shorten the -way, he stole through the gardens, and got over the gate near the -head-gardener's cottage, thus passing within twenty or thirty yards of -the spot where the body lay. He will prove that he thought it was a -man asleep, and that he is quite certain that it was a man." - -The learned gentleman paused, and, from under his bushy eyebrows, -turned a glance towards the face of the leader for the defence. What -he saw there he did not exactly understand; for there was a very -slight smile on the great barrister's lip; but that smile had -something of triumph in it. He knew not if the smile was sincere, or -whether it was not assumed to cover mortification; but yet, it was -evidently kept down rather than displayed, and in this state of doubt -he might not have called the boy, perhaps, had it been possible to -avoid it. The passing of these considerations through his mind did not -arrest his eloquence for more than a moment, and he went on as -follows:-- - -"I have now, gentlemen of the jury, given you a brief outline of the -case against the prisoner, as I believe it will be fully proved by -evidence; and I do not think, if such be the case, and if the -respectability of the witnesses is unimpeached and their testimony be -not shaken by cross-examination, that you can come to any other -conclusion than that which, I grieve to say, I myself have arrived at. -You will hear what they have to say, you will judge from their words, -and even the manner in which their evidence is given, what credence -they deserve. God forbid that you should attach more to their evidence -against the prisoner than to any testimony which can be fairly adduced -in his favour. What course of defence my learned friend may adopt I -cannot divine, but mere testimonials of character, learning, high -qualities, and previous integrity cannot avail here. Nor must rank and -station be taken for one moment into consideration. A prisoner at the -bar of justice stands stripped of all adventitious advantages. He is -there as before the throne of Heaven, only in the common character of -man. If he be of high rank and good education, it is no reason for -pre-supposing innocence or extenuating guilt. Quite on the contrary. -Crimes of the most serious magnitude have been proved against persons -greatly elevated in station. Peers of England have suffered on the -scaffold for deliberate murder; and the advantages of rank and -education, in the immunity which they give from ordinary temptation, -only serve to aggravate the offence. Nor can a previous upright, -honourable, and even peaceful life, if it could here be proved, weigh -much to neutralize distinct evidence. We have too many instances, -gentlemen, of men, the great bulk of whose life has been high, holy, -and innocent, yielding to some strong temptation, and committing acts -which on cooler reflection they have often shuddered at. Need I cite -the case of the unfortunate Dr. Dodd? You must look upon the prisoner -merely as a man; you must weigh well every tittle of the evidence -against him. You will find that, as in almost all cases of murder, -that evidence is purely circumstantial; no man but a madman commits -such a crime when the eyes of any but accomplices are upon him. But -you have all too much good sense and experience not to know that a -long chain of circumstantial evidence, perfect and unbroken as this -seems to me to be, is more strong, more conclusive than even direct -evidence. In such cases, to suppose a fraud on the part of the -witnesses for the crown, is to imagine that an immense number of -persons are all combined in one common league to destroy another, and -that they have so well arranged their scheme that cross-examination -will not unravel it: whereas, in direct evidence, often afforded by -one or two witnesses only, a much greater opportunity is to be found -for successful falsehood if any motive for injuring a prisoner exists. -I do not ask a verdict at your hands. I am far from desiring one -against the prisoner at the bar. I pray Heaven that he may be able to -exculpate himself and quit that dock free from all suspicion. Even if -there be a reasonable doubt in your minds, you must give him the -advantage of it; but you will remember that it must be a reasonable -doubt. You must not say to yourselves, 'Perhaps he did not commit the -act, after all,' because no one saw him commit it; but if the chain of -evidence is clear and convincing, you must remember your oaths, your -duty to your country and your God; and, having consulted only -conscience, express by your verdict the conviction of your minds, as -you will answer for it at the dreadful day of judgment." - -The learned gentleman sat down after having produced a terrible effect -upon the minds of the jury; but the judge, who was accustomed to such -speeches, and moreover hungry, interrupted the further proceedings by -inquiring, in the most commonplace tone in the world, if the evidence -for the prosecution could be got through that night. There seemed some -doubt upon the subject; and as it was now late; for the counsel had -spoken very slowly, his lordship suggested that it would be better to -take the evidence of one witness, and then adjourn to the following -day. The testimony given was of little importance, for it only went to -prove the identity of Chandos Winslow with John Acton--a fact which -there was no intention of denying; and after it had been heard the -court rose. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX. - - -There had been long and anxious consultations during the evening upon -the case of Chandos Winslow: first came the question whether the -objection to the indictment should be pressed; and it was ultimately -agreed that it should not be altogether abandoned, although the -leader seemed much more confident of making a good defence than his -junior. Then came the important question of cross-examination; and -Sir ----, with tact and delicacy, but in a very decided manner, -pointed out the course which he thought it would be necessary to -pursue, and the objects that he wanted to establish. - -"Our good friend, the serjeant," he said, speaking to the younger -lawyer, "thought he had made a hit this morning in regard to the -gipsey boy; but he was doing our work for us. We must endeavour, my -dear Sir, to-morrow, instead of shaking the boy's testimony, to render -it as precise as possible, so as to leave not the slightest doubt that -the murder was committed between ten minutes or a quarter past five -and half-past five; and we must endeavour to get from the old -woman--Humphries, I think, is her name," and he looked at his -notes--"an admission that Mr. Winslow might have left the cottage some -minutes before five. For these two objects we must try, more than for -anything else." - -"I almost think that the game is rash," said the junior; "but you know -best." - -"We are positively precluded," replied the great barrister, "from the -straightforward course of defence. I, individually, am placed in the -most awkward position as the friend of the prisoner. I believe I ought -not to have seen him at all; but my regard for him overcame my -prudence; and when I did see him, he made communications to me which, -while they left no doubt of his innocence greatly embarrassed me, -under the circumstances, as to the defence. Those circumstances I -cannot explain, even to you, my dear friend, all legal etiquettes, -notwithstanding; but you will forgive me when you know that he bound -me by a solemn promise not to reveal them to any one." - -The conference did not terminate till late; and the little solicitor -was in a mighty fuss from having found that the general opinion of the -bar was decidedly against his client; a matter of no slight -importance, be it remarked; for the bar is very seldom wrong. - -On the following morning, at the usual hour, the judge took his seat, -and the jury their places; the court was even more crowded than on the -day before, and the prisoner was once more placed in the dock. No -change had taken place in his appearance, except, perhaps, that he was -even a shade graver. He asked, however, to be permitted the use of a -chair, and to be furnished with pen, ink, and paper, which was granted -to him. The name of James Wilson was then called, and one of Mr. -Tracy's footmen got into the box. I shall give his testimony in his -own words:--"I am a servant in the employment of Mr. Tracy, of -Northferry House. I was so on the fifth of February last. I -remember on that day, about five in the evening, a gentleman coming to -the door and asking me if I could tell him where to find Acton, the -head-gardener. I answered that I could not, for that he had been -absent for some time, by Mr. Tracy's leave. The gentleman seemed very -much vexed, and I think said, 'How unfortunate!' But Mr. Jones, my -master's valet, who was crossing the hall at the time, came up, and -said, 'No, no, Wilson; he came back this afternoon.' And then turning -to the gentleman, he said, 'If you go through that glass-door, Sir, -and across the lawn, you will most likely find him somewhere in the -grounds. If not, he must be at his cottage in the lane just beyond; -any of the gardener's men will show you the way.' The gentleman then -crossed over, as he had been directed, and went out into the grounds. -I had never seen him before, but I remarked his face well. I never saw -him afterwards alive; but the same night, about ten o'clock, I was -called upon, with several more, to go down to a tool-house not far -from the fish-pond, and I then first heard that the body of a dead man -had been found and conveyed thither. The moment I saw the corpse, I -knew it was that of the gentleman who had been inquiring for Acton. -The body did not seem to have been rifled; and some money, a -pocket-book, a watch, and a pair of spectacles, were taken from it by -Mr. Tracy, as well as several loose papers; all of which he gave to -Taylor, the butler, to keep, telling him to mark them, and, as I -understood him, to give them to the constable. After looking at the -body, we all went down to the place where the under-gardener had found -it; we looked, as well as we could by the light of a lantern, for -steps, but we could not find much then. As we were looking for the -marks of steps, I found what they call a Dutch hoe, the iron part of -which was covered with blood, and there was some gray hair sticking -about it. When we went back to the tool-house where the body lay, Mr. -Tracy sent for Acton, the head-gardener, who came up directly; he -walked straight up to the body, when he was told a man had been found -murdered in the grounds; and, in answer to a question from Mr. Tracy, -said, he knew the dead man quite well, that his name was Mr. Roberts, -and that he was agent to the late Sir Harry Winslow. He seemed very -sad, but quite calm and cool. I see the person I call Acton in the -court. He is the prisoner in the dock. I cannot say whether he was -surprised or not; he certainly looked horrified. Mr. Tracy showed him -the hoe, and asked him whose it was. He replied immediately that it -was his, and said, that he had left it leaning against one of the -pillars by the fish-pond, while he spoke a few words to Miss Rose -Tracy; he also said that he had quitted the garden immediately after -speaking with Miss Rose." - -"Did he make any remarks upon the hoe?" asked the examining counsel. - -"He took it up," answered the witness, "looked at it for a minute, and -then said the murder must have been committed with this." - -The examination in chief here closed, and the counsel for the defence -rose to cross-examine the witness. - -"You have told us," he said, "that when Mr. Roberts called at -Northferry House, in the evening, you remarked his face well. Had you -any light in the hall?" - -Witness.--"No Sir; but there was light enough to see, and the -gentleman was quite close to me. The evening light comes through the -glass doors; and what there was of it fell right upon him, so that I -could see him quite well." - -"That might very well be," said the barrister, "at a quarter after -five, or even later: is it not so?" - -"Oh dear yes, Sir," replied the witness; "and I recollect now, it -could not be more than ten minutes after five; for Mr. Taylor said to -me just the minute before, 'James, it is past five, and you have not -rung the first bell;' and I looked at the clock over the kitchen door, -and saw it was six or seven minutes after. I was running up to ring -the bell when the gentleman came, and asked for Mr. Acton." - -"Then was it ten minutes past five when Mr. Roberts called?" - -"About it," answered the witness. - -The Judge.--"How long would it take to walk down from the house to the -place where the body was found?" - -Witness.--"About ten minutes by the walks, my lord." - -Judge.--"What do you mean when you say 'by the walks?'" - -"Why, a man may cut across the lawns," said the witness. - - Judge.--"Did Mr. Roberts cut across the lawns?" - -Witness.--"Only a little bit; and then took the gravel walk on the -right, through the shrubbery." - -After a short pause, this witness was ordered to go down; and Lloyd -Jones was called. - -I shall proceed, copying from the report of the trial in "The Times." - -Lloyd Jones said--"I am valet to Mr. Tracy, of Northferry House. I -remember the fifth of February last. On that day, about five o'clock, -I was passing through the entrance hall, towards my master's -dressing-room, when I saw a gentleman at the door, speaking to the -last witness. I heard him ask for Acton, the gardener, and the last -witness say that Mr. Acton was absent. Having heard one of the men say -he had seen Acton a few minutes before, going to his cottage, I -stepped forward and told the gentleman he had returned, and would most -likely be found in the grounds, if he would go through the glass doors -on the other side of the hall, and seek him. He said he would; and I -opened the glass doors for him. He cut across the corner of the lawn, -and went down the gravel walk. He walked rather fast, and seemed eager -to see Mr. Acton. I did not go down to the tool-house with Mr. Tracy -when the body was discovered. I happened to be out at the time; but I -saw the corpse next morning. It was that of the gentleman I had seen -speaking to James Wilson. I never saw the person before. The prisoner -at the bar is the person we have always called Acton. It was about -five o'clock when the gentleman came, I know; because the first bell -had not rung, and it always rang at five. There are two bells rung -every evening at Northferry; one at five and one at half-past. My -master dines at six in the country, and at half-past seven in London. -The second is called the dressing-bell. I am quite sure it was not the -second bell, which had not rung. It was the first; for I always go to -put out Mr. Tracy's things when the first bell rings." - -Cross-examined by Mr. B----. --"You say that you always go to put out -Mr. Tracy's things when the first bell rings. How came you to do so on -that night before it had rung?" - -Witness.--"Because it was later than usual. I suppose Wilson had -forgot it." - -Counsel.--"Then you were in a great hurry, I suppose, to get your work -over, and to go and play the gentleman in the housekeeper's room." - -Witness.--"No, Sir, I was not; but I know my duty, if other people do -not; and when I found by my watch that it was some time past five, and -the bell had not been rung, I said to Mrs. Hilston, 'If they do not -choose to ring the bell, it is no affair of mine. I will go and get -master's things ready.'" - -Counsel.--"You seem to be a very punctual gentleman, indeed." - -Witness.--"I hope I am, Sir." - -"And pray how far did your punctuality extend on this occasion," said -the prisoner's counsel, in a sneering tone; "that you should risk -getting a fellow-servant into a scrape, by taking notice that the bell -had not rung at the right hour? It was not above two or three minutes -too late, I dare say." - -Witness.--"I beg your pardon, Sir; it was near a quarter-of-an-hour." - -Counsel.--"Are you quite sure?" - -"Yes, I am quite sure," answered the witness; "for I looked at my -watch." - -Re-examined.--"James Wilson is usually very accurate. I am sure I did -not intend to say a word against him; but that night he was a little -late. It might be ten minutes, or a quarter-of-an-hour. I cannot say -to a minute. I know it was a good deal after the time." - -Edward Taylor was then called, and identified the prisoner as the -person who had served Mr. Tracy in the quality of gardener, under the -name of Acton. He then went on as follows:--"About a quarter-past ten -I was called to speak with Slater, the under-gardener, who seemed in a -great fright. He told me that in going his round, as he always did at -ten, he had found a dead man, lying near the pond of gold-fish. I went -directly down with him, thinking he might be mistaken, and that the -man might only be drunk. We took several of the servants with us and a -lantern. James Wilson was one of the party. We found there the body of -Mr. Roberts, quite dead and stiff, and took it up amongst us, and -carried it to the tool-house in the shrubbery. I sent up at once to -tell Mr. Tracy, who came down directly. We did not do anything to the -corpse, but carry it to the tool-house and lay it on the bench. We did -not examine the pockets till Mr. Tracy came. There was the mark of a -blow just above the temple, and a deep wound a little further back, -with some of the brains smashed upon the hair. There was a great deal -of blood about the corpse: the shirt-collar was all soaked with it. -When Mr. Tracy came he examined the pockets and took out a letter, -which I have delivered to the constable of Northferry, The letter was -addressed to 'Richard Roberts, Esq., Winslow Abbey;' and was signed, -'Chandos Winslow.' Besides the letter, Mr. Tracy took out two or three -papers, a pocket-book, a purse, a watch and seals, and a pair of -spectacles. As soon as he took anything out of the pockets, he handed -it to me, and by his orders I marked it as well as I could with a -pencil. I have delivered the whole to the constable, in whose -possession I believe they still are. He will produce them." - -The witness then went on to describe the examination of the spot where -the body had been found, and confirmed, in all respects, the evidence -of the footman. - -The next questions were, as to the conduct and demeanour of the -head-gardener when summoned to the tool-house, by Mr. Tracy's order. - -To interrogatories upon this subject, the witness replied,--"When he -came into the tool-house, he seemed grieved and sad, but not at all -surprised. He expressed no surprise, but looked at the body very -sadly, and told at once who it was. He acknowledged that the hoe was -his, but said he had left it leaning against the pillar; and, after -looking at it, he said the murder must have been committed with it. He -said, he left the garden immediately after speaking a few words with -Miss Rose, near the fish-pond." - -Judge.--"I suppose you call Miss Rose Tracy; but I do not see her name -here." - -"We took it for granted, my lord, that she would be called for the -defence," said the counsel for the prosecution. - -"I beg leave to say that the crown had no right to take that for -granted," observed Sir ----; "all that we could wish to get from Miss -Tracy could be obtained by cross-examination, or perhaps would appear -in her evidence in chief." - -Judge.--"I think she ought to have been called for the prosecution. -Will you proceed?" - -"Which way did the head-gardener return to his cottage after having -left the tool-house?" was the next question. - -Witness.--"By the house; for the door near the gardener's cottage was -ordered to be locked. He could not pass to and fro between the spot -where the body was found and the haw-haw, without coming round again -by the house, or getting over the hedge or gate." - -Here ended the examination-in-chief; and as it came to a conclusion, a -small slip of paper was handed from the prisoner to his counsel, who -read it, and immediately began the cross-examination. "You say that -before Mr. Tracy was informed of the fact of the murder, you went down -with some of the upper servants and removed the body to the tool-house. -At that time did any of you go from the spot where the corpse lay to -the haw-haw?" - -Witness.--"No, Sir: we took up the body as soon as we were sure the -man was quite dead, and carried it to the tool-house." - -"Will you swear," asked the counsel, "that when you afterwards -examined the spot with Mr. Tracy, none of you went down to the -haw-haw? Remember, Sir, you are upon your oath." - -Witness.--"I never said nobody went down. Perhaps they might. I don't -recollect." - -Counsel.--"Your memory seems to halt very strangely. Will you swear -that one of the men did not go down and look over the hedge into the -haw-haw to see if there was anybody there?" - -Witness.--"I believe one of them did; but I am sure I do not recollect -who it was." - -Counsel.--"Oh! Now, Sir, for another part of the subject; and be so -good as to be a little sincere; for recollect that you are sworn to -tell 'the whole truth,' as well as 'the truth.' You have said that Mr. -Tracy ordered the gate near the head-gardener's cottage to be locked. -Pray, did he do this of his own mere motive, or was it suggested to -him?" - -Witness.--"It was suggested to him by Mr. Acton, that is to say, Mr. -Winslow, who said, that it would be better to lock that gate, and then -the men, having to go another way to their work, would not put out any -marks that might be upon the ground; and he gave up to Mr. Tracy his -own key." - -Counsel.--"Well, that was not very like a guilty man. Now tell me, was -the ground hard or soft at that time?" - -"Soft, Sir," answered the butler; "for the frost had not long broke -up." - -"Then the marks of all the feet which went about the place would be -very distinct?" said the counsel. - -Witness.--"Why, Sir, there were such a number of them, that they must -have cut one another up a good deal." - -Counsel.--"Pray, were you with the constable on the following morning, -when he went to trace and measure the steps?" - -Witness.--"Yes, Sir." - -Counsel.--"Pray which of the line of traces was it that corresponded -with the shoes of the prisoner?" - -Witness.--"They were all the same. There were two lines, one from the -fish-pond to the haw-haw, and one back again to the spot where the -corpse was found." - -"That is to say, merely to and fro," said the counsel. - -Witness.--"Yes, Sir; I did not see any more." - -"Pray, did you measure any body else's shoes?" was the next question; -but immediately the counsel for the prosecution rose and objected to -the course of the cross-examination. - -He said "that nothing in the examination-in-chief could naturally lead -to the questions now asked." - -"I seek, my lord," said Mr. B----, "simply to elicit the truth, which -is, I believe, the object of the court. The witness has admitted that -one of the men, in examining the spot after the murder, went from that -spot to the haw-haw and back; and that there were but two lines of -traces. Now I wish to show--" - -Judge.--"I cannot allow the argument to go on. There are rules of -evidence which no one is better acquainted with than the counsel for -the defence. He must be aware that this line of cross-examination is -inadmissible." - -Counsel.--"I bow to the ruling of the court. You may go down, Sir." - -He had, in fact, obtained nearly all he desired; and it may be as well -to remark, that poor Mr. Taylor was one of those victims of the bar -who, on entering a witness-box, show a certain sort of nervousness, -which immediately indicates to cross-examining counsel, the existence -in their minds of a quality which may be termed _perplexability_; -which, like the scent of the hare or the fox, instantly leads the -whole pack in full cry after them. Poor Taylor was as honest a man as -ever lived; but yet, confounded by his cross-examination, and not very -well recollecting the exact circumstances of events which had taken -place when his hair was standing on end with horror, he had told, or -admitted--which comes to the same thing--an exceedingly great -falsehood. None of the men who examined the spot with Mr. Tracy, had -gone down to the haw-haw; but the counsel had put it in such a way -that, in his confused remembrance of the events, he was at first -afraid of denying it; and afterwards became persuaded it was true. Had -he remained much longer in the witness-box, and had the counsel been -permitted to pursue his own course, there is probably nothing in the -range of possibility which Mr. Taylor would not have vouched upon -oath; for he was becoming more and more confounded every moment. - -The counsel for the prosecution saw the state he was in too well to -venture to re-examine him; and thus he was suffered to depart in -peace. - -The next witness who was called was 'William Sandes;' and a stout -countryman entered the witness-box, with a somewhat heavy, dogged -countenance. He deposed as follows:--"I am a labouring gardener in the -employment of Arthur Tracy, Esq. I remember the events of the fifth of -February last distinctly. I had worked in the garden all day, and at -five o'clock in the evening I was returning home with my son behind -me. In the walk that leads from the pond of gold-fish--what we call -the Temple basin--to the gate by the head-gardener's cottage, I met -Mr. Acton, the prisoner at the bar--I did not know he had come back. -He had a hoe in his hand--what we call a Dutch hoe. I have seen a -similar one in his hands often before. I saw the same, or one very -like it, before the crowner's jury--" - -The prisoner here said aloud, "The hoe was mine." - -The witness then continued: "Mr. Acton spoke a few words to me and to -the boy. I know him quite well, having served under him some months. I -can swear it was the prisoner I met. He was going from the gate near -his own house towards the basin. He had on a fustian coat with large -pockets, such as he generally wore on working days. I did not look at -his shoes. I did not hear of the murder till late that evening, when -one of the servants from the house came down for the key I have of the -gate. He woke me out of bed, and told me a man had been found murdered -in the grounds. I went the next morning before the crowner and told -all I knew." - -The witness was then cross-examined.--"What induced you to go before -the coroner, when you knew nothing of the murder?" - -Witness.--"Why the servant, that is, Burwash, the boy, who was sent -for the key, said that they all thought Mr. Acton had done it; and so -I said, 'Likely enough; for I met him just going down that way.' And -then he said I must go before the crowner, for Mr. Tracy had sent for -him; and I said I would." - -Counsel.--"Very kind and liberal on all parts! But now tell me if you -were quite sure it was the prisoner. Remember, the sun was down, and -it must have been darkish." - -Witness.--"Not a bit of if. It was quite light, master. I don't think -the sun was down. I saw him as plain as I see you." - -"Pray, how could that be at past five o'clock?" asked the counsel. - -Witness.--"I did not say it was past five o'clock. It might be a -minute or two before." - -"But what I want to know is, are you quite sure?" continued the -counsel; "suppose another man, very like the prisoner, had passed you -in the same dress, at past five o'clock on a darkish evening, can you -swear that you would have distinguished him from the prisoner at the -bar?" - -"Why, I tell you as plain as I can speak, it was not past five," cried -the witness; "it might be a quarter afore, for that matter." - -Counsel.--"Ah! Then it was a quarter before five, and broad daylight, -was it?" - -Witness.--"Yes, Sir, it was." - -Counsel.--"Now then for another question, my man. I see you are a good -downright fellow, who will speak the truth for or against, without -caring. Did you and the head-gardener ever have any quarrel?" - -Witness.--"We once had a bit of a tiff." - -Counsel.--"What was it about?" - -The counsel for the prosecution objected to the question. The judge -said he did not see how it bore on the examination-in-chief; but Mr. -B---- insisted, and he was supported strongly by his leader, who -declared that the answer of the witness would immediately show the -connexion. If it did not, it could be struck out of the evidence. - -Counsel for the crown.--"After the impression has been produced?" - -Counsel for the defence.--"Not at all. The cause of the quarrel is -immediately connected with the examination-in-chief. My learned friend -does not venture to put the question in a leading shape, as some -counsel would not scruple to do. But if we are overruled, I will so -frame the question in one minute as to be unobjectionable in point of -form, and perhaps less pleasant to those who seek a conviction, than -in its present shape." - -He spoke with some heat, and the question was allowed, and repeated. - -Witness.--"Why, it was in January last, when there was little to be -done in the garden, and I went away a bit before the time, because it -was our club night. He jawed me about it, and said as long as he was -head-gardener the men should keep their time." - -Counsel.--"On the night of the fifth of February, I think you said -that you did not know the prisoner had returned till you saw him?" - -Witness.--"No, that I didn't." - -Counsel, emphatically.--"I have done." - -Witness re-examined.--"I think it was five o'clock when I met the -prisoner, I cannot exactly say. I have a watch, but I do not always -look at it: I did not that night. I guessed it was five, and I went." - -The next witness was Mr. Andrew Woodyard, surgeon, who deposed that he -had examined the dead body of a person who, he was informed, had been -found in the grounds of Mr. Arthur Tracy, of Northferry House. He had -discovered, he said, severe injuries on the head, consisting of a -contusion over the left temple, and a contused wound further back, on -the same side, which had fractured the skull and injured the brain. -The latter was the immediate cause of death. It must have been -inflicted with a sharp instrument. A blow from a Dutch hoe would -probably produce all the appearances which he had observed. He had no -doubt that the wound was the cause of death. - -Counsel for the prosecution.--"Would such a blow always produce death -as an inevitable consequence?" - -Witness.--"No." - -Counsel.--"In what cases do you think, Mr. Woodyard, a more favourable -result might be anticipated?" - -Witness.--"In cases of idiots, of atheists, and of young lawyers: that -is to say, where the brain is soft, is wanting, or is wrong placed." - -Counsel for the defence, laughing.--"We shall decline to cross-examine -this witness;" and, without moving a muscle of his face, Mr. Woodyard -was about to quit the box, when the judge exclaimed in a severe tone, -"The witness will do well to remember, that to give evidence in a -court of justice is a serious matter." - -"I am perfectly serious, my lord," replied the surgeon, turning full -upon him; "I am well aware that none but judges and queen's counsel at -the lowest, are permitted to play the fool in such places as this." - -"I have a great mind to commit you, Sir," thundered the judge, bending -his brows upon him. - -"In so doing, my lord, you would commit yourself," said Mr. Woodyard; -and without waiting for the falling of the storm, he hurried out of -the court. The judge hesitated. The judge was angry, but he saw that -the trial was likely to be long. He did not like interludes; and Mr. -Woodyard escaped. - -Michael Burwash was then placed in the box, and deposed to all the -facts which had been proved by the other witnesses who had accompanied -Mr. Tracy to the tool-house on the night of the murder. He also stated -that he had been sent to ask Sandes for the key; and in addition to -the evidence of the others, he said he had seen the gentleman who was -murdered cross a corner of the lawn a little after five o'clock, on -his way to the spot where the body was afterwards found. The counsel -for the defence did not cross-examine him upon any of the points -deposed to by others. They were wise men, and let well alone. The -first question the junior counsel asked was, "Pray, what did you say -to Mr. Sandes when you asked him for the key?" - -Witness.--"I told him a man had been found murdered in the grounds, -and master did not wish to have the footmarks disturbed." - -Counsel.--"Nothing more?" - -Witness.--"I might say a word or two more." - -Counsel.--"Out with it, young man; we must have the whole." - -"Why, I told him," said the witness, after having looked at the stern -face of the judge, and the impatient face of the leader for the -prosecution, "that all the servants thought that Mr. Acton had done -it; and that he ought to go before the coroner." - -"What made you and the servants think the head-gardener had done it?" -asked the barrister. - -Witness.--"Because he was in the grounds the last; and because we all -thought him so Eugene Aram like. He kept by himself, and talked Latin -and all that." - -Counsel.--"I am afraid we of the bar are in great danger of accusation -of murder. This is the best reason ever given for having the pleadings -in English. You say, witness, that Mr. Acton, or the prisoner at the -bar, was the last person in the grounds; how did the servants know -that?" - -Witness, in a whimpering tone.--"I cannot tell." - -Counsel.--"I must have some answer. Will you swear that you yourself -did not see some person in the grounds after you saw Mr. Roberts cross -the lawn?" - -Witness.--"No, I won't swear, because I did." - -Counsel.--"Who did you see; and when?" - -Witness.--"I don't well know who it was; but about ten minutes after -Mr. Roberts went across, I saw some one come up the dark walk--I was -shutting the dining-room window-shutters at the time--and he went in -by the door of the green-house." - -"Then is there away through the green-house or conservatory in the -house?" asked the counsel. - -"Yes; it leads into the hall on the left hand side," replied the -witness. - -Counsel.--"Now we must hear more of the person. Who was it?" - -Sir ---- turned and looked towards the dock. Chandos was sitting with -his arms upon the bar, and his eyes buried on them. - -"I do not know--I cannot swear," replied the witness. - -Counsel.--"Was it Mr. Tracy?" - -Witness.--"No; it was a taller man than he." - -"Was it General Tracy?" - -"No; not so stout by a good deal." - -Counsel.--"In a word: was it the prisoner at the bar?" - -Witness.--"No; he is a good deal taller than the gentleman I saw." - -Counsel.--"Was it a gentleman, then; or any of the servants?" - -Witness.--"It looked like a gentleman's figure; but it was growing -dark, and he walked on very quick indeed. I could not clearly see who -it was." - -Counsel.--"I have done with you;" and he sat down with a look of -satisfaction. - -There was a murmur amongst the bar. The case for the prosecution -seemed breaking down. It was a result not at all expected, and the -cross-examination by the junior, who was a very young member of the -profession, but blessed with several eminent solicitors for relations, -was looked upon as highly creditable. None of the barristers were for -a moment deceived. They all clearly saw and understood that several of -the witnesses had been perplexed and confounded; and nothing had -shaken their conviction of the guilt of Chandos Winslow till the -admission made by the last witness, that some one had been seen -entering the house of Mr. Tracy, in a hurried manner, and by a private -and somewhat obscure entrance, some ten minutes or quarter-of-an-hour -after the murdered man had passed across the lawn. It was, in truth, -the first fact for the defence; and legal acumen instantly detected -that this was a verity of great importance. None of the lawyers -present, however, were ignorant of the great impression which the -admissions extracted from other witnesses might make upon a jury, if -followed up by any available line of defence; and they, therefore, as -I have said, looked upon the case as breaking down, under a pressure -of doubts, all of which must be favourable to the prisoner. - -There has seldom been a trial, however, in which the opinions of the -most acute and sensible men varied so often, under the different -aspects which the evidence gave to it at different times. Through the -examination of the next witness the same feeling prevailed, namely, -that satisfactory proof would fail. The person who succeeded Burwash -in the witness-box was Henry Haldemand, the constable of Northferry, -who, after stating his rank, condition, and degree, went on as -follows:-- - -"There were delivered to me, when I went down, on receiving Mr. -Tracy's message, several articles which had been found on the person -of the deceased. I here produce them. The first is a letter, marked -No. 1." - -This was the letter which Chandos had written to Mr. Roberts on the -night preceding the murder, and it was ordered to be read aloud. As -the reader has, however, already perused it, it will not be necessary -to reproduce it here. The impression did not seem so great upon the -court as the counsel for the prosecution expected. - -The snuffling tone in which the letter was read detracted from the -effect; and it was generally regarded as merely showing that some sort -of dispute might have existed between the prisoner and the deceased, -without by any means establishing a sufficient motive for so great a -crime. It gave an additional shade of probability to the charge, but -that was all. Other papers, marked Nos. 2 and 3, were produced; but -the counsel for the prosecution thought they did not bear upon the -case, and they were consequently not read. The watch, the purse, and -the pocket-book, of course, threw no new light upon the matter, -and only occupied a few minutes more of the time of the court. -The constable then went on with his evidence in the following -strain:--"Early on the morning of the sixth of February I went to the -spot where the dead body had been found; I took with me Alfred Tims, -shoemaker, of Northferry. We found a great many footmarks round the -spot where the deceased had been lying, so many, that we could make -nothing of them. One line of steps we traced from the spot to the -haw-haw; they were very distinct upon the turf; the heel was towards -the haw-haw, the toe towards the spot where the murder was committed. -We found another line like it from the fish-pond to the haw-haw; the -heel was towards the fish-pond, the toe towards the haw-haw. In the -dry ditch beyond the hedge were several of the same footmarks, and the -hedge seemed to have been broken through. We measured the footmarks -exactly; there was but one line, either coming or going, made by a -right and left foot. After we had measured the marks, I went up to the -cottage of the head-gardener, from information I had received, and -desired to measure his shoes. He offered no opposition, and produced -the pair he had worn on the night before. They had not been cleaned; -and it seemed to me that there was some blood on the toe of the right -shoe: I can't swear it was blood; but there was certainly something -red upon it. We took away the shoes with us, and went back to the spot -in the grounds. The shoes corresponded exactly with the marks to and -from the haw-haw, and with those in the dry ditch. In the latter we -found one very distinct print; there were some small nails in the -outside edge of the shoe, and marks corresponding on the ground. I -afterwards went back to the cottage of the prisoner, to examine his -clothes; but found that he had gone down to Northferry, and taken the -clothes he had worn on the preceding night with him." - -The cross-examination then commenced, and the counsel for the defence -said, "Two or three questions will be enough, witness. Are you aware -why the prisoner went down to Northferry and took his clothes with -him?" - -Witness.--"To attend the coroner's inquest, I believe. I know he went -there." - -Counsel.--"Voluntarily?" - -Witness.--"Yes, I believe so." - -Counsel.--"Pray did you measure the shoes of any one else besides -those of the prisoner?" - -Witness.--"No, I did not." - -Counsel.--"Were you informed that one of the men who accompanied Mr. -Tracy on the night before had gone down to the haw-haw, to see if -there was any one concealed in the ditch?" - -Witness.--"No, I never heard it." - -Counsel.--"That is a pity. I have done." - -Judge.--"Where are the clothes? for by the notes of the inquest they -are important." - -Witness.--"They are in the hands of an officer of the rural police. I -belong to the parish of Northferry: it is not in the same county. Mr. -Tracy's house is in this county, but Northferry is not." All the -counsel wrote rapid notes, expecting, probably, some nice points of -law. - -A sergeant of rural police was then called, who produced a fustian -coat, upon the arm of which was evidently a large stain of blood. It -was on the inside of the arm, just at the bend, and there was no mark -upon the cuff. His evidence was very short. "I took the prisoner into -custody," he said, "after the coroner's jury had returned their -verdict: he had the coat I produce with him. I examined his person: -his hands were considerably torn and scratched, as if with thorns; in -his pocket there was five-and-thirty pounds six shillings, in gold and -silver, and also three letters, addressed to 'Chandos Winslow, Esq.' -It was then I first became aware of his real name. I had seen him more -than once before; but always thought his name was Acton. He gave no -explanation whatever in regard to the charge against him; but said, -when we were in the chaise together, that the coroner's jury had done -very right; for the evidence was strong, although he was perfectly -innocent." - -Witness, in answer to the judge.--"The prisoner bore an exceedingly -good character in the neighbourhood, as a kind and humane young man. -He saved a lad from drowning--fetched him out from under the ice, -where he had been sliding, and never left him till the doctor had -brought him to." - -This witness was not cross-examined; and the next witness that was -called was "Alice Humphreys." The poor old woman, who for the last -three months had acted as servant to Chandos Winslow, walked with -anxious look and trembling steps into the witness-box, and cast a -scared glance round the court, passing over the array of jurors and -barristers, till at length it lighted on the prisoner's dock, when she -exclaimed, in simple sorrow, "Oh, dear, Sir! dear me! To think of -this!" - -Chandos Winslow gave her a kind look; and the judge exclaimed, in a -sharp tone, "Attend to the business before you, witness." - -With a faltering voice, which called upon her many an injunction to -speak out, the poor old woman deposed as follows:--"I am servant to -the prisoner, and had kept house for him for about three months on the -fifth of February last. He had then been absent, by Mr. Tracy's leave, -about a month, and he came back on that day about half-past four. He -seemed very gay and cheerful, and asked me a great number of -questions, which I do not recollect. I remember he asked about the -little boy, Tim, that is the gipsey woman's son, whom General Tracy -took and put to live with us. Mr. Acton asked why he was not there, -and where he was; and I told him the young ladies sent him every day -to the day-school at Northferry. He seemed to be in a hurry to go out -again, however; and said he must take a look round the grounds before -it was dark; so that he did not much listen to me. It was just five -when he went out again. I know it was five, because the clock went as -he opened the door. He was gone about an hour, or a little better. The -boy, Tim, was late before he came home; he did not arrive till -half-past five, or more; and he usually came at a quarter before five. -When I scolded him, he said he had seen his mother in Northferry, and -she had kept him; and he told me, besides, he had seen a man asleep in -the grounds." - -Judge.--"That cannot stand in evidence." - -Counsel for the prosecution.--"Very well, my lord: we will have the -boy. Now, my good woman, when did the prisoner return?" - -Witness.--"He was away more than an hour, and it was quite dark when -he came back." - -Counsel.--"Describe his appearance." - -Witness.--"Why, Sir, he was as white as a sheet, and his hands were -all over blood. The little boy ran up to him directly; for Tim is very -fond of him, as well he maybe, for he's a kind, good gentleman as ever -lived. But he said, 'Stay a bit, Tim, I will come down again in a -minute.' And then he went up stairs to his room, which is just over -the parlour; and presently after, as I was putting out the tea-things, -I heard some water thrown out of the window. When he came down again, -the blood was off his hands, and he had another coat on." - -Counsel.--"Did you observe anything particular in his manner or -demeanour during the evening?" - -Witness.--"He was very sad, and astray like, all the time. He took the -boy and kept him by his knee, and asked him a great number of -questions about his learning, and heard him a part of his catechism. -He said he had been a very good boy, and if he always behaved well and -did his duty, he would be a happy man; but he kept falling into -studies, as if he was thinking of something else; and once or twice he -got up and walked heavy up and down the room. He did not say anything -about what had made his hands bloody, nor take any notice of where he -had been." - -Counsel.--"Did you remark if his hands bled at all after he came -down?" - -Witness.--"No, Sir, I did not see them bleed. They seemed quite white, -as they always were: whiter than most gardeners' hands." - -In answer to other questions, she proceeded to state that the prisoner -took a Dutch hoe with him when he went out, and had none when he came -back; that about half-past ten he was called away to speak with Mr. -Tracy, and then she heard of the murder; that she went up to his room -during his absence, to see if anything wanted putting to rights, when -she found his coat, all bloody on the sleeve, thrown over a chair, and -the marks of bloody hands upon the towel. "When he came back," she -deposed, "he seemed very sad, but not so astray-looking as before; and -he told her that the gentleman who had been murdered was a friend of -his, and that he should have to go down and give evidence before the -coroner. He bade me wake him, too, if he overslept himself," continued -the witness; "for he said he had walked a good way in the course of -the day, and was very tired." - -Here ended the examination by the counsel for the prosecution; and a -momentary consultation was seen to take place between Sir ---- and his -junior. - -"No, no; go on," said the great barrister; "no one could have done it -better. I am perfectly confident in your judgment." - -"But I am somewhat fatigued," said Mr. B----; "and as it is of so much -importance, I would rather you undertook it." - -"Very well; to relieve you, but for no other reason," said Sir ----, -and he rose to cross-examine the witness himself. - -"When I remind you, witness, he said, that you are upon your oath, it -is simply because I believe you to have a sincere affection for your -master, as every one has who has the honour and pleasure of knowing -him; and I wish you to understand that nothing can so well serve him -as the plain, undisguised truth. Give, therefore, clear and -unhesitating answers to my questions, that the court, convinced of -your sincerity, may attach due weight to your testimony. Did the -prisoner, when he returned to his cottage, make any attempt to conceal -the blood upon his hands or coat?" - -"Oh dear no, Sir," replied the witness; "he held his hands straight -before him, and came at once to the light." - -Counsel.--"When you saw the coat, did it appear to you that any -attempt had been made to wash out the blood upon the arm." - -Witness.--"No, Sir. There it was, plain enough." - -Counsel.--"Did you remark any scratches or wound upon his hands?" - -Witness.--"Yes, Sir, they were a good deal scratched, specially the -left. There was a good big tear in that." - -Counsel.--"Now, you say, he came in first about half-past four. How -long did he stay?" - -Witness.--"Some quarter of an hour or twenty minutes." - -"But you say he went away at five," said the barristers; "how can that -be?" - -The woman looked puzzled. "Why, I heard half-past four go just before -he came in, by the church clock; and clocks differ you know Sir." - -Counsel.--"They do. You marked his coming by the church clock. Pray -what clock did you say struck when he went?" - -Witness.--"No; it did not strike. It was the cuckoo that went." - -Counsel.--"But does your cuckoo always sing right, my good woman?" - -Witness.--"Not always, Sir. It is a bit too fast at times." - -Counsel.--"It is not worse than other cuckoos, I dare say. There are -some of them fast, some of them slow, like men's minds-- - - - ''Tis with our judgments as our watches, none - Go just alike, yet each believes his own.' - - -Can you give me any notion how much your cuckoo clock was usually -before the church clock? It differed, of course; but on the -average--at its ordinary rate of going?" - -Witness.--"Why it got on two or three minutes a-day; but I do not -recollect when I last put it back with my thumb." - -Counsel.-- - - "'Ay, 'tis beyond the date of memory: - Event upon event so oft hath trod, - With quick recurring foot, 'tis hard to trace - The worn-out print of Time's incessant step.' - - -But cannot you give me some idea of what day you usually put the -cuckoo clock back with your thumb? These things acquire a regularity -by habit which is rarely deviated from, especially in regard to -clocks. Every man, woman, and child in the kingdom who has a clock, -watch, or other indicator of Time's progress, has some particular day, -or perhaps hour for winding up and putting it right. Can you tell me -what day you wound up your cuckoo clock, and whether you put it by the -church or not on that day?" - -Witness.--"I always wound it up o' Saturday, at about eleven, when I -had put the pot on; and I generally set it to rights by the church, if -I could hear it, that we might not be late at service the next day." - -Counsel.--"And if you did not set it on Saturday, did you ever meddle -with it during the week?" - -Witness.--"Not that I remember ever. I did the two jobs together; for -I had to get up upon the stool, which I was not over fond of, for the -stool was old, and I was old; and if we had tumbled we might both have -gone to pieces." - -All the bar laughed heartily, and encouraged the good old woman -amazingly: but the great barrister did not forget his point. - -Counsel.--"Am I to understand you, that if you did not set the clock -on Saturday, you did not set it during the week?" - -Witness.--"No, never." - -"Then can you tell me if you set it on the Saturday before the -prisoner returned?" asked the counsel. - -Witness.--"I can't justly recollect." - -Counsel.--"Well, it got on two or three minutes a-day, you say; so if -you did set it on Saturday, the thirty-first of January, it would have -got on from ten to twelve minutes, at the least, and might have done -so a quarter-of-an-hour, before the evening of Thursday, the fifth; -which would make your other calculation right, that the prisoner -returned about half-past four, by the church clock, remained a -quarter-of-an-hour or twenty minutes, and went away at five by the -cuckoo, or a quarter to five by the church." - -"That is likely," said the witness; "I dare say our clock was a -quarter too fast--it generally was. It was quite light, I know, when -he went away." - -Counsel.--"Then I won't trouble you with any more questions, Mrs. -Humphreys; and I am very much obliged to you for replying to those you -have answered." - -Witness.--"Well, you are a civil gentleman, I do declare!" - -Witness re-examined.--"I am sure the clock went fast, not slow. I said -I put it back that we might not be too late at church, because when it -was right we were right, and if it were wrong we might trust to its -being more wrong than it was.--Well! you are a saucy one!--The other -is a very civil gentleman. But I do not see why you should take -liberties with old women." - -A roar of laughter followed in the court; and the judge coughed -sonorously. - -I should say that the merriest place on earth--I go no further--is a -court of justice during certain criminal trials. It seems as if the -solemnity of the scene, and the awfulness of the circumstances, -brought out all that is risible with extraordinary effect, as a black -background throws out a bright figure. Perhaps, few trials had ever -excited more strong feelings than that which was now proceeding. There -stood the prisoner, whose life was at stake, an object of admiration -to many, of interest to all; in the prime of his youth and strength; -eminently handsome; richly endowed with powers of mind; of ancient -lineage and high name; connected with some of the noblest in the land; -kind, generous, high-spirited; with genius throned upon his brow and -flashing from his eye: his life hung upon a word; and yet, the whole -court laughed at the silly simplicity of a good but vulgar old -woman--laughed cheerfully, as if there were nothing like life and -death in the world--laughed as if human suffering and human crime were -unknown in the place where they were met to inquire into the murder of -one fellow-creature, and to adjudge another, either to prolonged -existence with all its bright companionships, or to speedy death--the -scaffold, the cord, the grave, the worm! - -It was very horrible that laugh; and Chandos Winslow's brow grew dark, -as if they were sporting with his fate. He could not laugh--he could -not join in their heartless merriment. More than life was at stake for -him--honour and good name--ay, and perhaps love. Verily, we human -beings are lighter than vanity; and the lake of the spirits of men is -rippled by the least of all possible breezes. - -The judge was the only one ashamed at his gravity being overset; and -he endeavoured to cover his merriment by saying in a stern tone. "Old -woman--that is to say, witness, you must respect the court. Was your -clock right or wrong on this identical evening, the fifth of February? -That is the question." - -"I dare say it was not quite right," answered Mrs. Humphreys; "it -seldom is for two days together; but how far wrong it was on that day -I cannot tell--may be a quarter-of-an-hour, my lord." - -"It is a very extraordinary thing," said the judge, "that they will -have such clocks in the country. Neither the clocks nor the rural -police ever go right. You may go down, witness." - -"Timothy Stanley" was now called; and something very small was seen -making its way resolutely through the court towards the witness-box. -The persons near stared at the child and drew back, treading on the -toes of those behind; and one of the officers of the court caught hold -of him to administer the oath. But the judge, who had a conscience, -though it was peculiarly organized, shouted out: "Stay, stay! That is -an infant. Put him in the box for a moment before you swear him. Give -him something to stand upon;" and, adjusting his spectacles, he gazed -at the small intelligent features of the boy with interest and -curiosity. - -"Do you know the nature of an oath, my little man?" asked the judge at -length. - -The boy remained silent for a few seconds; and then the voice of -Chandos Winslow was heard amidst the stillness of the court, saying -aloud, "That he does, my lord. I taught him." - -"Why does he not answer then?" demanded the judge. - -"Because your language, my lord, is perhaps above his comprehension," -replied the prisoner. "He is here as a witness against me; but if you -would permit me to suggest, you would ask him first, What are the -consequences of a lie?" - -"Tell me, my little man," said the judge; "do you know what are the -consequences of a lie?" - -"Disgrace and shame amongst men, and the anger of Almighty God," -replied the boy, readily. - -The judge wiped his spectacles; for something touched him. - -"Now, if you would pardon me, my lord," said the prisoner, "you would -inquire, What are the consequences of calling upon God to witness a -falsehood?" - -"Do you know, boy," asked the judge, "what is the consequences of -taking God's name to a falsehood?" - -"The loss of his protection for ever," said the little witness, "for -the greatest offence and insult to his truth and holiness." - -There were several eyes had tears in them, and the judge said, "Swear -him--you may swear him." - -"I won't be sworn!" said Tim, stoutly. - -"Why not, boy?" demanded the judge. - -"Because I won't say anything that may hurt him," rejoined the boy, -pointing to the dock. - -There was again a silence, and Tim stood resolutely in the witness-box -with his hands in his pockets, and his eyes fixed upon Chandos -Winslow. - -"My dear boy," said the prisoner; "nothing you can say will hurt me if -you tell 'the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,' as -they will put the oath to you. But if you are silent, they will think -you know something against me." - -"Oh! that I don't," cried the boy, clasping his hands. - -"Then take the oath, and tell the whole truth," said Chandos; "by so -doing you will do me more good than by any other course." - -The boy gazed in his face for an instant, and then said, "Well, I -will, then; for you always tell the truth; and I am sure you would not -cheat me." - -"Not for the world," said the prisoner; and the oath was administered. - -The counsel for the prosecution hesitated for a moment or two, as if -he doubted whether the boy's testimony would produce the effect he -desired; but then he began the examination, touching but lightly on -the point on which he had laid most stress in his speech. He was a -sagacious observer of an opponent's proceedings, and he had already -divined from the course of examination pursued, that it was as much -the object of the counsel for the defence to fix down the commission -of the crime to a certain period, as it had at first been his own. He -looked upon a criminal trial as a sort of game at chess, where there -were certain moves of necessity, but where it was expedient to vary -his play according to the skill and the moves of his adversary. The -method in which he conducted the examination produced the following -evidence. - -Witness.--"On the fifth of February I went from the cottage of Mr. -Acton--the prisoner--to the day-school at Northferry. I went about -seven in the morning. I came back to dinner at one, and returned to -school at two. I left school at a little past four. I met my mother at -the corner of the lane, and went back with her into the town. She -bought me two penny buns at the shop, and we sat down and talked in -the marketplace while I ate them. She had been selling rabbit-skins -to the hatter. I do not know how she got them. She talked to me of a -great many things. She asked me if Mr. Acton had come home yet, and I -said, 'No.' She said he would be home soon, for she had seen him. She -did not say when she had seen him. She did not say whether that day or -the day before. She only said she had seen him. The church clock had -just gone five a few minutes before; and I said, 'I must get home, -mother, or Dame Humphreys will scold.' She kept me about five minutes -more, and then let me go. It was getting quite dark when I came to the -gates of the house--Mr. Tracy's house; and as they were open and it -saved a good bit I slipped in and down the walks, into the Lady's -Walk. When I came into the Lady's Walk it was a little lighter there, -for there were no trees to the west; and I saw some one lying upon the -grass close to the fish-pond of gold and silver fishes. I am sure it -was a man, for I said to myself, 'There is one of the fellows drunk.' -He lay quite still, and I went up the walk and got over the gate to -the cottage. The prisoner was not there when I arrived. He did not -come in for more than half-an-hour. I ran up to him; but he said, 'Do -not touch me, Tim. Stay a bit, and I will be down in a minute.' I saw -that his hands were all bloody, and that there was a great mark of -blood upon his arm. He went up stairs and stayed some time; and when -he came down he had on another coat, and his hands were clean. He was -very white when he came in. His face is not usually white. He seemed -heavy, but he heard me my catechism, and talked a good deal to me till -I went to bed. I thought he looked strange, different from what I had -ever seen him look before. Often while he was talking to me, he would -begin to think, and stop in what he was saying; and once he got up and -walked up and down the room. He was very strange till I went to bed." - -Here ended the boy's examination-in-chief; and it was remarked that -the counsel for the prosecution had not asked at what hour the witness -had seen the man lying in Mr. Tracy's grounds, nor at what hour the -boy had reached the cottage. Nevertheless, the impression produced by -the witness's evidence was strongly against the prisoner. The -simplicity with which it was given, and the evident bias of all his -affections towards his friend and protector, when put in contrast -with the facts which he disclosed--the pale face--the agitated -demeanour--the moody thoughtfulness--the bloody hands--the stained -garb, told wonderfully upon the minds of the court and the jury. -Nor did the cross-examination remove this impression, though -Sir ---- seemed perfectly unaffected by it, and rose with as calm and -confident an air as ever. - -"You are a dear, good little fellow," he said, in a kindly and almost -playful tone; "and I wish to Heaven a great number of grown witnesses -would take example from the clear and straightforward manner in which -such a child gives his evidence. Pursue the same course, witness, and -for my part, I will do nothing to puzzle or confound you; I seek but -the truth." - -Perhaps he took a little advantage of his high position at the bar, -and the respect in which he was universally held, to commence the -cross-examination in this discursive manner; but he then proceeded as -follows. "You say that your mother asked you if the prisoner had -returned home, and told you that he would do so soon, for that she had -seen him. Can you recollect exactly at what time that was?" - -Witness.--"It was after five, for the clock had struck." - -Counsel.--"Did your mother leave you at any time after she first met -you and bought you the two buns you have mentioned?" - -Witness.--"Yes, she left me just the minute before she asked me that -question: and she told me to sit by the pump till she came back." - -Counsel.--"Did you yourself see the prisoner in the town while you -were in Northferry that evening?" - -Witness.--"No, I did not; but I think mother did; she kept looking -down the street when she asked me." - -Judge.--"That will not do; that is not evidence." - -Counsel.--"Undoubtedly it is not, my lord; but I did not seek for it. -Now, witness, tell me at what hour, as near as possible, you left the -town." - -Witness.--"The quarter had not gone, but it must have been hard upon -it." - -Counsel.--"And at what hour did you reach the gardener's cottage?" - -Witness.--"I looked at the clock when I came in, and it wanted a -quarter to six; but then our clock is well-nigh a quarter too fast, -and more of Friday nights, for Dame Humphreys only sets it on Saturday -morning." - -"Then by that calculation," said the counsel, "it must have wanted -five-and-twenty minutes, or an half-hour to six when you got home. But -tell me, do you know the clock very accurately?" - -Witness.--"Yes, Mr. Acton taught me two months ago." - -Counsel.--"And his kindness will safe his life. How long does it take -you, witness, to go from the gardener's cottage to Northferry? I am -told the distance, from Mr. Tracy's house to the village or town, is -nearly two miles: can you walk that distance in a quarter of an hour?" - -Counsel for the prosecution.--"That is a leading question." - -Sir ----. --"I only wish to make the whole clear to the jury. I am not -seeking to puzzle or to mislead; but it has been stated that the -distance is nearly two miles. The boy has said he walked it in nearly -twenty minutes, and, without pretending to disbelieve him, I wish him -to explain, to reconcile the two facts, which at first sight seem -incompatible." - -Judge.--"I think the question may be put. If not put by counsel, I -will put it. The point must be made clear." - -The counsel for the defence then repeated the question. - -Witness.--"I walked, and I ran a part of the way, because I was late; -but the distance is nothing like two miles by the fields. I never take -more than twenty minutes to go or come; and that time I went through -the grounds, which saves a good bit. I know Mr. Acton once walked -there and back in half an hour, and bought me a book too." - -Counsel.--"Thus the matter is easily explained. One can see, by the -plan submitted by the prosecution, that the high road to Northferry -takes innumerable turnings and windings. Can you give me any distinct -idea, witness, of what o'clock it was when you saw the body of a man -lying by the fish-pond?--By Northferry clock, I mean." - -Witness.--"It must have been half-past five, as near as possible." - -Counsel.--"You are sure it was not six?" - -Witness.--"How could that be? When I got home it wanted a quarter to -six by our clock, and that is always a good bit too fast." - -Counsel.--"You are sure it is never too slow?" - -Witness.--"Oh dear, no. If I were to go to school by it I should -always be there before any of the other boys." - -Counsel.--"And you are sure the prisoner did not return for full half -an hour after your arrival?" - -Witness.--"It was more than that--five or ten minutes more." - -Counsel.--"Did you see any scratches on his hands, making them bleed?" - -Witness.--"No, I did not see any. His hands did not bleed at all after -he came down again." - -Counsel.--"How long might he be absent when he went up to his room?" - -"Some five or ten minutes, I dare say," said the boy. - -The counsel here sat down, and the boy was re-examined at some length -by the counsel for the prosecution, without eliciting any new fact, or -causing him at all to vary in his statements. - -Four or five other witnesses were examined to various minute facts, of -no great importance in themselves, but all bearing more or less upon -the case. - -The exact distance from Mr. Tracy's house to the place where the -murder was committed, the proximity of the body, when found, to the -temple over the fish-pond, the extent of space between that building -and the haw-haw, and the distance thence to the gardener's house, were -amongst the facts proved; and at length the counsel for the -prosecution declared his case closed. - -It was between four and five in the afternoon, and the judge, who for -some time had been showing symptoms of impatience, inquired of the -prisoner's counsels whether they thought they could conclude, that -night. - -"The court is intensely hot," said the learned judge. "We have sat -here from an early hour in the morning; but I am most anxious that -to-morrow should be left free for the remaining business of the -assize; and if sure of finishing to-night, we would proceed with the -trial, after taking some refreshment. I would rather sit till midnight -than not conclude to-day." - -"Why, my lord," replied Sir----, "I and my learned friend who is with -me in the cause, think that four or five hours would be quite enough -for us; but if there is to be a long reply, of course the business -cannot be concluded to-night." - -"I cannot limit myself as to my reply," said Sergeant ----. "Having an -important duty to perform, and not knowing what will be the line of -defence, I can make no promise as to time; and I can see clearly that -my reply cannot be very short." - -"Then the court will adjourn," said the judge, somewhat sulkily; and -at the same moment he rose to retire. - -Let it be remembered, that this day was marked in the calendar as the -ninth of the month; for dates may be important things even in a novel, -and in this instance a man's life hung upon the events of a single -day. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI. - - -It was on the tenth of the month, in a very beautiful valley, between -bare hills, which, carrying their bold heads high above the rich cloak -of vegetation that clothed both sides of the dell, seemed to cool them -in the calm blue sky. Just above a waterfall, the same which has been -before described, two large irregular masses of stone, differing in -size, but both enormous, reared themselves up as gigantic door-posts, -to the entrance of a small amphitheatre of cliff, not less than two -hundred feet in height. The one rock had somewhat the appearance -of a chair of colossal size, the other, fancy might shape into a -reading-desk; and thus, amongst the people of the neighbouring -districts, the former had acquired the name of "the Pope's Throne;" -while the other was called "the Puritan's Pulpit." Between them there -was a narrow pass, of not more than ten feet in width, and on either -side was piled up a mound of loose shingly fragments, forty or fifty -feet high, with a tree or a shrub here and there, where some vegetable -earth had accumulated, forming a sort of natural wall, which joined -the rocky portal to the spurs of the amphitheatre of crag. At several -points, it is true, a man might easily climb over the mound, either to -enter or issue forth from the space within; but the only smooth way -was between the two great masses of stone, where was a carpeting of -soft mountain-turf, with not a blade of grass more than an inch long -in anyplace, while in one appeared the evident marks of often-treading -feet, in a narrow line worn nearly bare. - -With his back leaning against the base of the Pope's Throne, and the -sunshine and shadow of a spring day chasing each other across his -brow, was seated a stout gipsey, of four or five and twenty. Half-way -up the mound, on the right, reclining upon the shingle, might be -perceived another, somewhat older than the former, in such a position -that his eyes could rest from time to time, upon his companion below. -The mound on the left hand had also its man; but he could not be seen -from without the natural enclosure, for he had stationed himself just -over the top of the heap, obtaining a view into the little enclosure; -and there he sat from six o'clock in the morning until eight, with a -number of green osier twigs beside him, and a half-finished basket -between his knees, at which he worked away like on honest, industrious -man. - -From within the circle, came forth at times the sounds of merry -voices; and at one period of the morning there curled up a quantity of -light bluish smoke. Shortly after, there trudged forth from the -entrance an elderly man, with a pair of bellows slung over his -shoulders, and an old spoutless tin kettle in his hand. Then all -seemed quiet, and the man who had been making baskets, without -changing his position, changed his attitude, and suffered himself to -drop quietly back upon some mossy turf which had gathered round the -root of a tree, planted, Heaven knows how, amongst the stones. - -About half-past eight o'clock, the figure of a tall stout man -appeared, close beside the basket-maker. His step was slow and -cautious; and the gipsey man did not move. He was sound asleep. The -other stood and looked at him for an instant, with a look not -altogether friendly: but the moment after he moved quietly on again, -passed behind the tree and began to climb the ridge of the mound, -towards the spur of the cliff. He took a step higher, and another, and -another, with great care and precaution, often looking back at the man -he had passed, often looking down into the little amphitheatre: but -still he advanced steadily towards a part where there was not a space -of more than ten or twelve feet between the summit of the cliff and -the top of the shingly mound, with an ash-tree waving its branches -under the shelter of the bank. He was within half-a-dozen paces of the -top, when some of the loose stones giving way beneath him, rolled -down, and startled the sleeper from his slumbers. - -In an instant he was upon his feet. The next, he gazed up and gave a -loud shout. The scene of confusion that followed was wild and strange. -From a number of gipsey tents which had been pitched in the circle -below, issued forth some twenty or thirty persons, men, women, and -children, all in a state of great excitement, and all looking in the -direction from which the shout had proceeded. The basket-maker sprang -up after the climber of the hill, half-a-dozen young men followed from -below; and one of the other watchers joined in what was evidently a -pursuit. - -But the fugitive had gained too much upon them; the shout warned him -to quicken his pace; in an instant he was under the ash-tree; and in -another, by the aid of its stout branches, he was at the top of the -cliff. There he paused for but one instant, then turned and hurried -on. His departing figure lessened rapidly to the eyes of those who -followed him, and at length he disappeared. - -Three of the pursuers climbed up by the aid of the ash-tree, as he had -done; but as a fourth was mounting, he happened to turn his eyes -below, and beheld the object of the chase down in the valley, and in -the act of crossing the river, which rose to his arm-pits. By a bold -man[oe]uvre he had put the hounds at fault, and by the time the men -were called down from above, was out of sight. - -A short consultation was held amongst the tribe; and then they all -quietly returned to their usual habits. The women and the children -betook themselves again to their tents, the basket-maker came down and -plied his trade more wakefully below; the young man who had been -sitting with his back against the huge rock abandoned his post, and -remained talking, within the little basin, to another of the tribe; -and his fellow-watcher on the outside, lay down at the back of the -encampment, and went to sleep. - -About five minutes after, coming at great speed, the gipsey woman, -Sally Stanley, approached the place from the lower part of the valley. -There was anxiety in her look, and she gazed eagerly over the two -shingly mounds, as if in search of what she did not see, and then with -a step quickened almost to a run, she entered the little amphitheatre -of cliff, advancing straight to the youth who had been stationed at -the pass between the two rocks. - -"Is he gone?" she asked, in breathless eagerness, "Is he gone?" - -"Yes, Sally; he is gone," replied the young man; "but it was not my -fault, for he--" - -"Fault!" cried the woman, "it might be no one's fault; for what right -have I to command? what need have you to obey? But cursed be he who -let him go; for he has done a bad act; he has killed one who has -always been kind to us; and the blood of the gipsey's friend be upon -his head;" and without waiting for reply, she ran out of the circle of -rock; and, with the speed of lightning, hurried down the valley. -Cutting off every angle, finding paths where none appeared, and -footing on places which a goat could hardly have trod, she darted on -till she reached the spot where, opening out with an ever-gentle -descent to the plain, the hill-valley was lost in other sweeps of the -ground, and the common foot-path entered into the cultivated grounds, -taking its onward course between two close hedges in the form of a -lane. She looked upon the somewhat moist sand beneath her feet with -eagerness, and examined it carefully for several yards. Then, -murmuring to herself, "He has not passed!--he cannot have passed!" she -placed herself behind the decayed trunk of an old willow, and, -waiting, watched with an attentive ear. - -Two minutes had not elapsed when a step was heard; and then Lockwood -was seen coming along the lane at a rapid pace, with a thick newly-cut -stick in his hand. The woman instantly darted forth and threw herself -before him. - -"Get out of my way!" he said, in a stern tone, as soon as he saw her. -"I am angry, and I would not do anything unbecoming. You may have done -mischief enough already. Do not do more by making me forget myself." - -But she persevered in her attempts to stop him. - -"I am a woman, and alone;" she answered, "you would not do anything -unmanly, I am sure. But hear me, Lockwood," she continued, more -vehemently; "hear me, and I will tell you what you are going to do. -You wish to save him, and you are going to ruin him. If you set your -foot in that court, he is lost. Nay, hear me! hear me!" she repeated, -as he strove to push his way past her; "you must, you shall--for your -own sake--for his sake--for my sake. I will beseech you--I will kneel -to you, to hear me but a few words;" and casting herself down before -him, she clasped his knees with her arms. - -"I will not hear you," he answered, bitterly; "every moment is -precious. You have detained me shamefully two days, and there is -nothing to be told me that I could not tell you. I know all, girl--I -know you, Susan Grey--I know your motives--I know that you are fool -enough still to love him who ruined, betrayed, abandoned you--who left -you to misery, starvation, and death, for aught he knew; and I know -that to save him from the punishment of his crimes, you would -sacrifice one who was kind and good to you, when there was none other -to befriend you. Let me go, girl! for I will pass!" and, forcing -himself from her grasp, he walked hastily onward towards S----. - -"Oh God! Oh God!" cried the woman, "he will destroy him he seeks to -save!" - -This took place, let the reader remember, on the tenth of the month; -the second day of the trial of Chandos Winslow; and to that trial and -the court in which it was taking place, we must now return. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII. - - -In many cases the inhabitants of an assize town are very little -affected by what is taking place in their courts. They see lawyers -flock in and juries assemble, witnesses moving about in troops, and a -rich crop of blue bags growing up. But with the causes or the -prisoners, they very little trouble their heads. The host of the inn -rubs his hands and rejoices: a heavy calendar to him is a God-send. -His waiters, probably increased in number, bustle about to feed those -classes which are proverbially ravenous; and the chamber-maids are in -great request. The pastrycook becomes a person of importance; the -cookshop has its share of business, and red tape and parchment rise in -value; while the ladies of the place think a good deal of the young -barristers, and very little of those whose causes brought them to the -town. - -But there are occasions, on the contrary, when, either from the -intrinsic interest of the case, or from adventitious circumstances -connected with it, the people even of the town in which the trial -takes place become almost universally excited by what is occurring in -the courts; and upon every turn of the trial as it proceeds hangs a -world of emotions in the bosoms of men only linked to the transaction -by the tie of sympathy. - -Such was the case in regard to the trial of Chandos Winslow. Not a -drawing-room, not a tea-table, not a chamber in a tavern, not even a -coffee-room did not hear discussed during the whole evening of the -ninth the various events which had taken place in the court-house -during the day, while calculations were formed, and even bets made, on -the probable result of the trial. The prisoner had become quite a hero -of romance to all the youth and much of the age of the place. He was -so young, so handsome, so noble-looking, that the women of S---- of -course felt interest in his favour; and the men declared he bore it -stoutly, struck by his firm and calm demeanour, and his resolute and -gallant bearing. Nevertheless, at the close of the case for the -prosecution, a very general impression prevailed that he would be -found guilty. So many startling facts had been proved against him: his -absence from his house precisely at the time of the murder; the exact -correspondence of his shoes with the footsteps to and from the spot -where the crime was committed; the bloody hands and coat; and the -terribly agitated demeanour which had been witnessed by the boy and -the old woman on his return, would almost have been enough for -conviction, even without the terrible and seemingly conclusive fact, -that the fatal deed had evidently been committed with the very hoe -which he had carried out in his hand. - -Under such circumstances, the rush at the doors of the court-house on -the morning of the tenth was tremendous, and it was as much as the -officers on duty could do, aided by a strong body of police, to -prevent the multitude from crushing each other to death in the -passages and in the very court itself. Several of the magnates of the -county were accommodated with seats on the bench to hear the defence; -and the voice of the judge himself was raised to its very highest -tones to suppress the disorder that occurred when the prisoner -appeared in the dock. - -Wearing anxiety will have its effect on every frame, and Chandos -Winslow looked paler and thinner than on the first day of the trial; -but still the magnificent head, the fine person, the tranquil and -undaunted bearing, and the firm, strong step had their effect upon -those who beheld them, and the impression was that though the jury -might and would say "Guilty," the man was innocent. - -Sir ---- every one remarked, was exceedingly pale; and before he rose -he turned over the papers under his hand several times, with a look of -nervous anxiety; but the moment he was upon his feet, that look passed -away; he raised his head high; he cast back his shoulders as if for -full breath, and, fixing his fine and speaking eyes upon the jury, -began, - -"My lord and gentlemen of the jury,--The learned sergeant who has -conducted the prosecution assured you that to do so was the most -painful task of his life. I doubt it not in the least; for it must be -a terrible task indeed to become the public accuser of such a man as -the prisoner, with even a doubt upon the mind of his guilt: and how -many doubts must have existed in this case? If such were the feelings -of my learned friend, judge, gentlemen of the jury, what must be mine, -when, in rising to defend the prisoner at the bar, I know that upon my -feeble efforts depends not only the life of an innocent man, not only -the life of one who is an ornament to the society in which he moves, -but the life and honour of my dearest friend! With what anxieties must -I be oppressed; how terrible must be the responsibility when the -slightest failure of my powers, the least oversight on my part, any -weakness, any indiscretion, may condemn to death one whom I love as a -brother--one whom I know to be innocent, as I have trust in God! I am -no paid advocate, retained to defend a bad cause; I am not a counsel -doing merely his professional duties: but I am a friend standing forth -in defence of a friend; an honest man raising his voice to save an -innocent one. Terrible are the difficulties which all these cases -present: more than ordinary are the difficulties in the present case; -and all these are aggravated in an enormous degree by the very -feelings of friendship which exist between myself and the prisoner, by -the doubts and fears of myself, which make me tremble at my own -incompetence, by the zeal which perplexes, by the eagerness which -confounds. The burden would be too great, gentlemen of the jury; it -would overwhelm me; but happily there are circumstances which -lighten the load. I see upon the bench one of the most learned and -clear-sighted of those judges who are an honour to the nation to which -they belong: I see in that box a body of Englishmen well calculated by -judgment and experience to distinguish between truth and falsehood; -between the factitious glozing of an artificial oratory, and the -simple eloquence of right and conviction: and I hold under my hand the -means of establishing, beyond all doubt, the innocence of my friend, -if friendship do not deprive me of reason, if enthusiasm do not -paralyse my tongue. - -"I will now, however, do my best to grapple with the case as presented -to you by my learned friend; and, doing him full justice for his high -eloquence, believing most sincerely that he has stated nothing but -what he was instructed was true, I will still venture to say, that a -more terrible misrepresentation was never made to an English jury. -Now, in the very first instance my learned friend asserted that the -prisoner at the bar is of a sharp and vindictive disposition; and he -said that he should be able to show that such was the case. Gentlemen, -I will ask you, has he proved that fact? I will ask you if he has made -any attempt to prove it? I will ask you if his own witnesses have not -proved the exact reverse; if they have not shown that the prisoner is -of a kind and gentle disposition, winning the love and esteem of all -around, high and low, rich and poor? and, whether we see him teaching -the uneducated child, saving the drowning boy, or tending him in his -after sickness, I will ask, if all that _has_ been proved does not -excite admiration, and sympathy, and respect? Cast from your minds, -then, such unjustified and vague expressions: look upon his general -character as it is shown by the very evidence for the prosecution, -tender rather than sharp, benevolent instead of vindictive. But the -insinuation, gentlemen of the jury, has been made, though not -supported; and it forces me to establish the contrary by proofs. -Something was said too, gentlemen, of a duel between the prisoner and -Viscount Overton, and a connexion must have instantly established -itself in the minds of the jury, between that duel and the sharp and -vindictive character ascribed to the prisoner. But, gentlemen, I will -place that honourable nobleman in the witness-box, to speak to the -character of the prisoner. He shall himself tell you what he thinks of -the circumstances which produced the duel; and you shall judge from -facts, not from insinuations. All this shall be triumphantly swept -away, and I will not leave a vestige of such charges against my -friend. I will call the old servants of his father's house, I will -call the tenants, the parishioners, the neighbours. Their evidence -need not be long, but it will be conclusive to show that a more -honourable, upright, generous, kind-hearted man never existed; full of -noble enthusiasms, gentle in habits, benevolent in disposition, -incapable of a base or a cruel action. - -"So much, gentlemen of the jury, for the first part of the charge: for -the general and vague insinuation, made for the purpose of preparing -your minds to regard the prisoner as a man of blood. But it seemed -necessary to my learned friend; and most necessary indeed it was to -his case, to show some apparent motive for the crime of which the -prisoner is accused; and a letter has been read in evidence to prove -that there was some dispute between the prisoner and the murdered man. -That letter shall be fully explained before I have done; and you shall -see how ridiculously petty is the motive assigned for so great an -offence. But besides that letter, allusion was made to former disputes -between the unfortunate Mr. Roberts and the prisoner, which, though -not proved, may have had some influence upon your minds. I will show -that no such disputes ever existed; that the two were on the best and -most kindly terms, that they had been so through life; and that those -causes of disgust which had induced the prisoner to quit his brother's -mansion were identical with the causes which induced Mr. Roberts to -give notice to Sir William Winslow that he was about to leave his -employment. In short, I will prove that Mr. Winslow and the man he is -accused of murdering, were acting on the most friendly terms together; -and that the letter which is supposed to prove that a dispute existed, -was written in cold terms merely as an authority to Mr. Roberts for -disregarding any orders he might have received from his employer to -meddle with things in which that employer had no right. It was, in -short, a formal notice to him to respect the rights of the prisoner, -without any regard to the illegal directions of a third party. I shall -be able to prove that Mr. Roberts possessed the full confidence of Mr. -Chandos Winslow; that he was acting with due regard for Mr. Winslow's -interests, and that he had actually applied or intended to apply to -that gentleman for an authority or warning to respect, in his capacity -of agent for Sir William Winslow, the rights of him, the prisoner at -the bar. Thus the pretence of motive furnished by the letter which he, -Mr. Roberts, had himself desired, falls entirely to the ground, and -leaves the accusation totally without foundation, except such as a -very doubtful train of circumstantial evidence can afford. Mr. -Roberts, in fact, was the only confidant of the prisoner at the bar, -the only person to whom he confided his address, when disgust at some -injuries he imagined he had received, and a desire to mingle as an -equal with classes in which he had long taken a deep interest as a -superior, led him to quit his high position in society, and accept the -humble station of gardener to Mr. Arthur Tracy, of Northferry. Was -this, gentlemen of the jury, like long disputes and acrimonious -bickerings, ending in malevolence and murder? Is that the man to -entertain such passions?--to commit such an act? - -"But I will make no appeal to your feelings; I will address myself to -your judgment only. I will break through this chain of circumstantial -evidence; I will show that it cannot affect the prisoner, that it is -not applicable to him. I will proceed logically with my inferences; -though it may be somewhat out of the usual course. I will first -convince you that the prisoner was not a man likely to commit such a -crime, by the testimony of many witnesses. I will next prove that -there was no earthly motive for his committing that crime; but every -motive for his not doing so: and, in the end, I will establish beyond -all question that it was impossible that he could have committed it. -Before I proceed to call my witnesses, however, it may be necessary to -examine closely the evidence already adduced, in order that we may -separate the facts clearly and distinctly proved from an immense mass -of irrelevant matter. In so doing, I shall not attempt to explain -every fact and every circumstance; I shall not seek to prove why the -prisoner did this, or why he did that. To do so would occupy -unnecessarily the time and patience of the court. For, surely, -if I establish beyond all doubt, those three great points I have -named--That the prisoner was not a man likely by character, -disposition, and previous conduct, to commit such a crime; secondly, -that he had no possible motive for committing it; but the reverse: and -thirdly, that if the testimony already given be not altogether false, -he could not have committed it, that will be quite sufficient for the -satisfaction of the court. - -"The evidence, gentlemen of the jury, divides itself into two -principal parts: that which relates to the death of Mr. Roberts: and -that by which it is attempted to connect his death with some act of -the prisoner. The simple facts regarding the death of the unhappy -victim of some other man's bad passions are clearly proved in -evidence, by the various witnesses you have heard in their examination -and cross-examination. Their testimony has not been shaken in the -least; and I do not wish to shake it. In considering this evidence it -is of the utmost importance to the establishment of truth, that -everything should be precise; and I must therefore impress the facts -upon your minds that you may take them in conjunction with the -evidence I shall myself offer, and from the whole draw the only -deduction which can logically be drawn: that it is impossible the -prisoner could have committed the act with which he is charged. You -have heard the testimony of James Wilson, the footman of Mr. Tracy, -the last person that we know of who spoke with Mr. Roberts, before the -murder; with the exception of Jones, the valet. This man stated at -first, that Mr. Roberts called about five o'clock; but afterwards -admitted, on cross-examination, that it was certainly ten minutes past -five. It might have been more, but I am contented with that. The -witness Jones corroborated the testimony of James Wilson, and fixed -the time of Mr. Roberts's call at ten minutes or a quarter after five. -These statements are not shaken. It was at least ten minutes past five -when the murdered man was at Mr. Tracy's house. He stayed apparently a -very short time there; but we find from Wilson's evidence in answer to -the court, that it would take ten minutes more to go from the house to -the spot where the murder was committed. We will not assume that any -time was lost on the road. It was, therefore, at least twenty minutes -after five before the criminal act was perpetrated. My learned friend -has attempted to fix the period of the murder. I will try to do the -same thing; but somewhat more accurately. The little boy, Timothy -Stanley, in evidence which, from its perspicuity, simplicity, and -truthful straightforwardness, you must all recollect, has shown that, -at half-past five o'clock the murder had been actually committed. I -take the time by Northferry clock to be the real time--at least it -must be assumed to be so for our purposes; and I may as well inform -the jury, here, that I last night sent off an express to Northferry to -ascertain what difference, if any, exists between the clock at Mr. -Tracy's house and that of Northferry church. By this man I shall prove -that there is but one minute difference between the church clock and -that in the hall so often alluded to, although that clock has not been -set for one week, owing to Mr. Tracy's unfortunate absence. But I -shall be in a condition to prove that it was set every day at noon -precisely, during that gentleman's residence at Northferry, and set by -the church clock. Thus it appears by testimony, which has not at all -been shaken, that the murder of Mr. Roberts must have taken place -between twenty minutes and half-an-hour after five; that at ten -minutes past five he was in Mr. Tracy's hall, and at half-past five -was seen murdered at the end of the grounds, the distance between the -two places being, I see by the plan, forty yards less than half-a-mile -in a direct line, and rather more than three quarters of a mile by the -walks. The body was not found till past ten o'clock, or more than four -hours and a half after it was seen by the boy. At this time it was -quite cold and stiff. The surgeon has proved that death was occasioned -by an incised wound on the head, penetrating the brain, of a kind -which might be given by a Dutch hoe, and a Dutch hoe was found on the -ground near the body, with blood and gray hair upon it. There can be -little doubt that this hoe was the instrument by which the murderer -perpetrated his crime. That it was so, struck the prisoner at once, as -you have heard; and moreover that he acknowledged the hoe to be his, -and said that he had left it leaning against one of the pillars of the -little temple over the fish-pond. These are the admitted facts -concerning the murder, of which there can be no doubt. - -"We will now turn to the circumstantial evidence, by which it is -attempted to connect the prisoner with the crime. Now my learned -friend has repeated to you an old axiom of law that circumstantial -evidence is often more convincing than direct evidence; and he has -reasoned ably upon that question. Nevertheless, the numerous instances -of awful injustice which have been committed in consequence of giving -too much weight to circumstantial evidence, has shaken the confidence -of many of the wisest and most learned men in the reasoning by which -the axiom is supported, and in the justice of the axiom itself. I need -not call to your mind a sad instance which occurred not many years ago -in France, where an amiable and excellent man, mayor of a great city, -after submitting to the knife of the guillotine, was proved to be -perfectly innocent; and very many such instances are on record; but I -do believe that after the trial which now occupies this court has come -to its conclusion, all thinking men will regard circumstantial -evidence with much greater doubt than they have hitherto done, and -juries will pause ere they take upon themselves the frightful -responsibility of sending a fellow-creature to death while the shadow -of a doubt remains. I say that the result of this trial will show that -too great a dependence on circumstantial evidence may often betray -wise and good men into acts which must burden their consciences for -all their remaining days. I wish to produce this effect. I wish to put -in the very strongest point of view, not only for the present -occasion, but for future instruction, the very fallible nature of -circumstantial evidence; and therefore in this instance I shall deal -with it in a peculiar manner. I will not attempt to struggle with it; -I will not try to shake it; I will not even descend to explain it. It -shall stand in full force, bearing against my client to the very last; -but then I will prove that it is utterly worthless, that it does not -affect him even in the slightest degree; that there is not even a -possibility of his having committed the crime. I will explain not one -of all the circumstances that tell against him; and yet, without -quitting that box, you shall give a verdict of acquittal. - -"Nevertheless, it will be necessary to examine the evidence, in order -to extract from it those facts which have a real bearing on the case, -and which fall into the line of defence. The rest I shall leave -intact, without attempting to weaken it in the slightest degree. The -evidence by which it is attempted to connect the prisoner with the -crime, divides itself into three heads. One portion is that which -shows that he was proceeding towards the spot where the dead body was -found, nearly at the time when the murder must have been committed. -The second refers to the traces of the deed left by the murderer, or -supposed to have been left by him--the hoe with which the deed was -done, the steps to and from the haw-haw and in the ditch. The third, -relates to the demeanour and personal appearance of the prisoner after -the murder had been committed. Under the first head we find from the -witness, William Sandes, that he met the prisoner as he was going home -from his work. The prisoner was going down towards the scene of the -tragedy. The witness at first asserted, that it was about five o'clock -when he met the prisoner, very naturally not wishing to make it -appear that he had quitted his work before the proper time. But in -cross-examination we got out of him, that he had on previous occasions -left the garden earlier than he ought to have done, and had been -reprimanded by the prisoner. He also admitted that it was broad -daylight, and might be a quarter before five. Thus the time at which -Sandes met the prisoner was rather more than half-an-hour before the -murder could have been committed. I beg you to mark this fact well, -gentlemen of the jury, for it is important. Then we have the evidence -of the old woman, Humphries. She shows that he came into his cottage -about half-past four, on the day of the murder, and went out again -exactly at five, by a clock which is proved to have been on that -night, from ten minutes to a quarter-of-an-hour too fast, thus -corroborating the statement on cross-examination of the witness, -Sandes. You will recollect, gentlemen of the jury, that on the fifth -of February the sun sets before five o'clock. The witness, Sandes, -says, that when he met the prisoner he does not think the sun was -down; that it was broad daylight. The good woman, Humphries, declares -that the prisoner went to take a look round the grounds before it was -dark, all showing that it must have been considerably before five -o'clock when he went out. Now, the murder could not have been -committed before twenty minutes past five. This is the evidence -tending to show that the prisoner was in the grounds and went towards -the fatal spot some time before the crime was perpetrated. He never -denies, or has denied, that such was the case. He admitted it in -conversation with Mr. Tracy. He said he had been speaking to Miss -Tracy within a very few yards of the place where the body was found. -And here I must remark upon two circumstances well worthy of your -consideration. First: that the counsel for the prosecution have not -thought fit to call Miss Tracy; but threw upon us the burden of so -doing. Now, Acton, the gardener, might have no hesitation in calling -that young lady; but, Mr. Chandos Winslow may have many reasons for -not subjecting one towards whom he entertains high respect--may I not -say affection?--to the torturing cross-examination of an adverse -counsel. Suffice it, gentlemen of the jury, that he refuses to call -her; and, respecting his motives, I have ventured to argue, but not to -insist.--She should have been called for the prosecution. The other -important fact to which I must call your particular attention is this, -that although it is proved the prisoner was in the grounds a short -time before the murder, we have it in evidence that some one else was -in the grounds exactly at the time when the murder must have taken -place. Michael Burwash, has sworn, that some ten minutes or -quarter-of-an-hour after Mr. Roberts went to the place where he met -his death, he saw some person enter the house from that very -direction, walking in a quick and hurried manner; that he passed -through the green-house instead of taking the usual entrance, as if he -desired to avoid observation. Who was it? The witness says it was not -Mr. Tracy, or General Tracy; and certainly not the prisoner at the -bar. I do not wish to throw any imputations; but the fact is proved, -that there was some man, not the prisoner, in the grounds at the very -time the murder must have been committed. - -"Now I come to the second head of evidence--the traces of the -murderer's progress. The hoe has been admitted to be the prisoner's by -himself in this court. More may be very safely admitted; namely, that -he carried it out with him in his hand, that he had it out with him -when he met the witness, Sandes, and that he rested it against one of -the pillars while he spoke with Miss Tracy, leaving it there when he -went away. What more natural than to suppose, that the murderer, -seeing it there, snatched it up to effect his criminal design? The -footmarks in the grass, I not only deny to have been the prisoner's, -but I must say, that it is very nearly proved they were not. It is -sworn that there were but two lines, one coming and one going, between -the haw-haw and the spot; and it is admitted by the witness Taylor, -that one of the men who accompanied Mr. Tracy at night went from the -place where the body was found to the haw-haw and back. It is also -shown that the ground was so soft as to receive the impression of any -foot that trod upon it. These steps then could not have been the -prisoner's; but servants, and constable, and all, seem to have made up -their mind that the prisoner was the murderer, and the shoes of no -other person were examined. Now, gentlemen of the jury, I will touch -upon the third head of evidence--the prisoner's appearance and -demeanour after the murder. He returned to his cottage, it is shown, -somewhat after six o'clock, and I shall not in the slightest degree -attempt, as I told you I would not, to lessen the weight of this -evidence, nor even to explain the facts. I am precluded by his most -positive injunctions from doing so. I admit then that he returned in a -state of very considerable agitation; that he was annoyed, harassed, -vexed; that there was blood upon his hands and upon his coat, and I -will give no explanation of these facts. He forbids me to give the -true one; and I will give no other. Were there no means of -establishing his innocence, this refusal of explanation might create a -reasonable doubt in your minds; but that doubt would be far from -justifying you in a verdict of guilty. Any one can conceive a thousand -circumstances which might have produced that agitation, and which -might have covered his hands and stained his coat with blood, but -which the most honourable motives would prevent him from explaining. -The proof must always lie with the other side; the prosecutor is bound -to leave no reasonable doubt in your minds. It is not enough to -produce a doubt of the prisoner's innocence; and therefore it is I say -that though if no means existed of proving the prisoner to be not -guilty, this refusal of explanation might produce a suspicion that he -was guilty, yet that suspicion would be by no means sufficient to -justify a verdict against him. - -"But, gentlemen of the jury, I will not be satisfied with this. My -friend must quit that dock without a stain upon his character. It must -be in his case as in that of the famous Lord Cowper, who was tried in -his youth for murder upon evidence much stronger than any which has -been adduced on this occasion, who triumphed over a false accusation, -left the court with honour unsullied, and rose to the very highest -rank in his profession, holding the first official station in the -realm beneath the crown. Nothing will content me but to see my friend -so acquitted; and therefore I will not plead the benefit of a doubt. -Nothing will content him but such an acquittal; and therefore he -forbids me to urge upon the court a fatal flaw which I have discovered -in the indictment. But I can ensure that acquittal; and before I have -done, I will prove, upon evidence unimpeachable, clear, distinct, and -positive, that the prisoner was far distant from the spot at the -moment the crime was committed; that it was, in short, physically -impossible that he could have had any share in it. I will prove it, by -persons above all suspicion of collusion, without motive, without -object of favouring or assisting him. I will show, I say, not alone -that the man round whom such a long chain of circumstantial evidence -has been entwined, did not commit the crime with which he is charged; -but that he could not have committed it; and I will call upon you for -such an immediate and unhesitating verdict as will leave his name and -honour clear of every imputation. Gentlemen of the jury, there is a -joyful task before you, after you have performed a long and arduous -one. Painful, yet mingled with satisfaction, have been the duties -which I have taken upon myself. At first the awful responsibility -overwhelmed me; the anxiety for my client, the apprehension for my -friend, the sense of my own incompetence, the tremendous stake in -peril, seemed too much for my mind; but every step as I have proceeded -has strengthened my confidence and reinvigorated my resolution. -Knowing my friend's innocence, seeing the proofs of it accumulate, -perceiving that the case for the prosecution crumbled away under -cross-examination, and assured that without a word for the defence -there was in reality no case to go to a jury, I felt that my own -weakness could not much affect the result, and that his safely -depended not on such feeble powers as mine. To God and to his country -he has appealed; to God and to his country I leave his fate, certain -that the one will defend, where my voice fails, the other do him -justice, whatever powers be arrayed against him." - -The tears rose in his eyes; his voice trembled and almost failed at -the last words; but those last words were as distinctly heard in the -court as the most powerful tones of the adverse counsel; for there was -a dead silence, unbroken by a breath. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII. - - -It is very difficult to say whether the change in the practice of our -courts, by which prisoners are allowed counsel for their defence, is a -real advantage to them or not. It is probable that in most cases the -right of reply conceded to the prosecution, and the loss of that -assistance which the judge formerly thought himself bound to afford -the accused person, more than balances the advantage of a practised -defender. Indeed the privilege of reply on the part of the public -prosecutor seems a rank injustice. He brings the charge with all his -materials prepared; he is bound to establish all the facts clearly, -and at once, so as to leave no reasonable doubt. The prisoner replies -by his counsel to an accusation made; and if that reply is -satisfactory to the jury, the trial should end there, with the -summing-up of the evidence, and the exposition of the law by the -judge. Can any equitable motive be shown for granting the accuser the -last word? I do not think it. - -The impression made by the speech of the counsel for the defence on -the trial of Chandos Winslow was very great. It carried the jury -completely away with it; and one of them whispered to another, that he -did not think they need hear any more evidence. It seemed to him that -there was no case for the prosecution. - -The bar, who regarded it critically, praised it amongst themselves -very much, and took especial notice of the manner in which, as one of -them expressed it, "Sir ---- got lightly over the soft ground." They -were not all sure of Chandos Winslow's innocence; and during the -greater part of the speech, they even doubted whether the learned -counsel would get a verdict, though they generally agreed he ought. -But at the end, when he so boldly declared that he could prove an -unexceptionable alibi, their opinions changed, for they knew he was -not a rash man, or one to risk the whole success of his case by a mode -of defence the slightest shade of suspicion attaching to which, would -strengthen every unfavourable impression regarding his client. - -The witnesses for the defence were called as soon as the speech was -concluded; and all the first were, contrary to general custom, those -who could speak to character only. Old servants, old friends of the -family, tenants, and neighbours were examined, and each testified with -zeal and affection that the prisoner was a man much more likely to -save life than to take it. But it was evident that the judge was -impatient for the conclusion of the trial; and the questions put for -the defence were few and pertinent. A private memorandum found amongst -the papers of Mr. Roberts, was then put in and proved to be in his -handwriting by his executor, in which the deceased had thus expressed -himself: "Mem: to ask Mr. Chandos for some formal notification to -respect his rights, and protect them against others in case of need." -A few witnesses then proved the terms of affectionate regard on which -the prisoner had always lived with his father's steward; and then Lord -Overton was called. The judge did not appear to like his evidence -being taken; but the counsel for the defence so shaped his questions, -that they could not be rejected, and the peer, in mild and dignified -terms, very different from his former rude and haughty manner, -acknowledged that he had been the aggressor in the quarrel between -himself and Mr. Winslow; and that in the whole transaction he had -behaved like a gentleman and a man of honour. It required some skill -to hang this testimony on to the cause; but that skill was evinced, -and the evidence received. All this part of the business was got over -very rapidly; but it greatly damaged the case for the prosecution, so -much so, that the judge more than once looked to Sergeant ----, as if -he were inclined to ask whether they need proceed further. - -At length "Thomas Muggeridge" was called, and, to the surprise of -Chandos, a man in a plain livery got into the witness-box, and in -answer to the questions propounded to him, deposed as follows:--"I am -servant to the Honourable and Reverend Horace Fleming, Rector of -Northferry. I know the prisoner at the bar by sight. I have once -spoken to him. I spoke to him on the night of the fifth of February -last. He called and inquired for my master about five o'clock. It -might be ten minutes after; for the sun was down. It could not be -more; for it was still quite light. I am quite sure of the man; for I -had seen him in the streets of Northferry before, and knew him to be -Mr. Tracy's head-gardener. I went in and told Mr. Fleming that Mr. -Acton wanted to speak with him; and he told me to show him in. When he -had been with my master about ten minutes in the library, Mr. Fleming -rang, and ordered me to bring lights. The prisoner was then seated on -the opposite side of the table to my master. About five minutes after -that, my master and the prisoner came out together, and walked through -the large rooms which are unfurnished. They had alight with them. My -master carried it. I ran to open the doors, and at the same time I -said to my master that the gipsey woman, Sally Stanley, wanted to -speak to him about her little boy. I had been talking with her at the -outer door. Mr. Fleming said he would see her in a few minutes; and -when I went back to tell her so, she asked me if I knew who that was -talking to my master. I said, 'Oh! quite well;' and she answered, 'No, -you don't! That is the son of the late Sir Harry Winslow.' After my -master and the prisoner had come out of the empty rooms, they went -back into the library and remained there till a quarter to six. The -clock struck the quarter as the prisoner went out. He stopped a minute -or two at the door to say something to Mr. Fleming. He said, 'It is -very unlucky, indeed; but it cannot be helped;' and then he talked a -word or two in a language I do not understand. It sounded like Latin; -but I cannot say. It was not French; for I have heard that talked. I -have not the slightest doubt that the prisoner is the man; I had seen -him, half-a-dozen times before in the streets of Northferry; and I had -every opportunity of seeing him well that night." - -The cross-examination then began by the counsel for the prosecution -giving the witness a long exhortation regarding the sanctity of an -oath; he then proceeded as follows:-- - -Counsel.--"How long have you been in the service of the Rev. Mr. -Fleming?" - -Witness.--"Six years, Sir." - -Counsel.--"And how long had you been in Northferry when this event -took place?" - -Witness.--"A little more than two months." - -Counsel.--"Then am I to understand that Mr. Fleming was newly -appointed to the rectory at Northferry?" - -Witness.--"He had been there about five months at that time; but I -remained at the vicarage at Sandbourn for more than two months after -he got Northferry." - -Counsel.--"Oh! he is a pluralist, is he? Will you swear that it was -not half-past five when the prisoner called?" - -Witness.--"Yes, I will; for at half-past five it is quite dark." - -"Will you swear it was not twenty-five minutes past?" asked the -counsel. - -Witness.--"Yes, Sir, I think I will, quite safely; for, as I told the -other gentleman, though the sun was just down, and it might be a -little grayish, yet there was plenty of light, and I could see across -the street; for I remember wondering what Higgins, the grocer, was -doing with a barrel he was twisting round before his door." - -Counsel.--"Now upon your oath, Sir, what time was it really when the -prisoner came?" - -Witness.--"As near as I can guess, from five to ten minutes after -five." - -Counsel.--"And on what day did you say?" - -Witness.--"On the fifth of February." - -Counsel.--"Do you happen to recollect some circumstances that took -place at your master's house on the morning of the first of that -month?" - -Witness, rubbing his head.--"Not quite rightly, Sir. What -circumstances do you mean? I don't remember what day the first was." - -Counsel.--"Then how do you happen to remember so accurately all that -took place upon the fifth?" - -Witness, with a laugh.--"Oh, that is easily told. We came back to -Sandbourn on the sixth, and I had a precious quantity of packing up to -do on the fifth; so I recollect all about that day, well enough." - -Counsel.--"Now as to the time when the prisoner went away, are you -quite sure that it was not half-past five that struck?" - -"Quite, Sir," answered the witness; "I heard the half-hour go while I -was talking with the gipsey woman, and the quarter to six just as my -master and the prisoner were walking from the library to the -hall-door, which I had got open in my hand. I counted three-quarters." - -"You can't struggle against that," growled the judge; and the witness -was suffered to go down. - -"The honourable and reverend Horace Fleming," was then called, and -entered the witness-box with a calm, firm step, and a look of placid -dignity. "I know the prisoner in the dock," he said, in answer to the -counsel's questions. "I never spoke with him but once, but have seen -him several times in the grounds of Mr. Tracy, of Northferry. I always -believed his real name to be Acton, till the night of the fifth of -February, when I was told by my servant that he was the son of the -late Sir Harry Winslow. I recollect all the events of that night, -perfectly. I went into my library a little before five o'clock, to -select some sermons, as I was coming over to my vicarage at Sandbourn -on the following day; and about ten minutes after, my servant informed -me that Mr. Tracy's head-gardener wanted to speak to me. He was shown -into the library by my orders, and I asked him to sit down. I had -heard from Mr. Tracy that he was a man of extraordinary information -for his station in life; and it did not therefore surprise me to find -him mingle very appositely quotations in Latin and Greek with his -conversation. At the same time, I will own, both his manner and the -request he came to make, seemed to me very strange. He was a good deal -excited; and, after apologizing in a hurried manner for taking a -liberty, he said, a friend of his--indeed, a relation--had been left, -by Sir Harry Winslow, all the books and a great number of the pictures -at Winslow Abbey; together with the large book cases, and a great deal -of other furniture. Sir William Winslow, he said, was behaving very -ill about the whole business; and his friend was anxious to have the -various articles removed from Winslow Abbey at once, but had no place -to put them in. He then went on to explain to me, that having heard I -had several large apartments unfurnished in the rectory, he thought I -might be induced to give these articles house-room for a few weeks, -till they could be otherwise disposed of. I replied, that the rooms -though large for a rectory, were low pitched and difficult of access, -so that it would be impossible to place tall bookcases in them, -whatever inclination I might have to render the gentleman he mentioned -any service. We went to look at the rooms, and he acknowledged that -what he had proposed could not be done. He stayed some little time -afterwards, conversing on various subjects; and I found him a man of -very extensive information, which decidedly induced me to believe that -his original station in life was not that which he assumed. He spoke -with considerable acerbity of Sir William Winslow; and although he -affected a certain degree of roughness of manner, probably to -harmonize with his assumed character, it was quite evident to me that -he had received the education of a gentleman. I did suspect him to be -Mr. Winslow before our conversation was at an end; so much so, indeed, -that I asked him if he knew Sir William Winslow was at Northferry -House. He replied, Yes; but he should keep out of his way. He left me -just as the clock was striking a quarter to six. At the door, I -expressed my sorrow that I could not take care of the valuable things -he seemed to consider in danger; and he replied, 'It is very -unfortunate, indeed; but it cannot be helped: Dominus providebit.'" - -Counsel.--"You say his manner was a good deal excited; pray, what do -you mean by that expression?" - -Witness.--"I mean, hurried, hasty, impatient, agitated. Once he fell -into a reverie, which lasted two or three minutes." - -Counsel.--"Will you have the goodness to state, Mr. Fleming, with as -much precision as possible, at what hour the prisoner visited you?" - -"Silence!" cried the judge, in a voice of thunder. "What is all that -noise at the door?" - -"A man will force his way in, my lord;" said one of the officers, from -the other end of the court; "and there is not a bit of room." - -"Take him into custody," cried the judge. - -"He says, he wishes to give evidence for the prisoner, my lord," -shouted the officer; the noise and confusion still continuing. - -"He will be called if he is wanted," said the judge. "Take him into -custody, if he continues disorderly." - -The volunteer witness apparently did so; for there was a momentary -scuffle at the door, and then some one was removed by the officers. - -The question of the counsel was then repeated to Mr. Fleming; and he -replied, "To a minute I cannot exactly say; but it must have been -somewhere between five and a quarter past; for the clock upon my -library table struck the quarter while he was sitting with me." - -Counsel.--"Is that clock very accurate?" - -Witness.--"It is set every day by that of the church; which is, I -believe, a very good clock." - -Counsel.--"Then it was before a quarter to five that he called at your -door? How long does it take you generally to walk from the Rectory to -Northferry House?" - -Witness.--"From a quarter of an hour to twenty minutes by the fields; -it would take about half-an-hour by the road." - -"And you are quite certain that the prisoner left you at a quarter to -six--not before?" said the counsel. - -Witness.--"No, rather after; for the clock struck when we were in the -passage, and I spoke to him for a short time at the door." - -Counsel.--"Then, are you prepared to swear that the prisoner is the -man who was with you on that night, as you have described?" - -Mr. Fleming turned round his head and gazed for a moment or two at -Chandos Winslow, after which he replied, in a firm, clear voice, "I -am. He is dressed very differently on the present occasion; but I have -not the slightest doubt." - -Judge.--"I will put it to the counsel for the prosecution whether they -can proceed any further after the evidence they have heard?" - -"My lord, I have done," said the counsel for the prosecution. "I am -not in the least prepared to invalidate the testimony of the reverend -gentleman. His character is above reproach; and I have nothing more to -say." - -"Gentlemen of the jury," said the judge, "you have heard the evidence; -but I will sum up, if you think fit." - -"There is not the slightest occasion, my lord," said the foreman of -the jury. "It would be only wasting your lordship's time, for we are -all of one mind, and have been so for the last half-hour. We therefore -beg at once to return a verdict of 'Not guilty.'" - -Loud acclamations followed the verdict which were with difficulty -repressed; but it was remarked that the face of the accused did not -express the slightest pleasure, and that Sir ---- leaned his arms upon -the table and covered his eyes with his hands, as if overpowered by -deep emotion, or exhausted by his exertions. He was in very bad health -at the time; but not a member of the bar had ever seen him give way -before, and there was much marvelling. The judge addressed a few words -to the late prisoner, declaring that he quitted the court with his -honour unimpaired, and without a stain upon his name; but Chandos -Winslow only bowed with a grave and stately air, and seemed in no way -to participate in the satisfaction which his acquittal had produced in -the court. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV. - - -"Sir ---- will be with you in ten minutes, Sir," said the landlord of -the great inn, the Green Dragon, at S----, addressing the liberated -prisoner. "He has been sent for by the judges. Dinner was ordered at -six; but a message came to put it off for half-an-hour." - -Chandos bowed his head, and the landlord withdrew, leaving him alone -in the sitting-room of the great barrister, who, as soon as the trial -was over, had sent him a note, begging him to dine with him. He took -up a book. It was a volume of celebrated trials. A page was turned -down at that of Mr. Cowper, afterwards Lord Cowper, for murder; and -although we have seen the very sparing use made of it by the counsel, -every page was marked with thick marginal notes in pencil, evidently -freshly written. Chandos had not much time allowed him to read; for a -minute or two after he had opened the work he heard the voice of his -little solicitor, inquiring with quick reiteration, "Where is he? -where is Mr. Winslow? What number did you say?" and in another moment -he was in the room. - -"My dear Sir," said the solicitor, shaking him warmly by the hand, "I -congratulate you a thousand times upon the result of the trial. It was -a most splendid defence--magnificent--unequalled,--our learned friend -out-did himself. Did you mark how he jumped over all the difficulties? -how lightly he trod upon the dangerous ground? Really it was a treat -to hear him--the whole bar rings with it. It is really worth -undergoing a trial for such a defence." - -"It is at least some compensation for the pain of one, to find that I -have such a friend," replied Chandos. "I am waiting for him now with a -heart full of gratitude." - -"He may be a little while first," said the solicitor, with a very -cunning look, "he's about that little awkward affair; but it can make -no difference now--verdict given. In the meantime, I have just come to -say a word or two upon business, my dear Sir. You were considerate -enough to give me a power of attorney, and also to execute a deed in -case of the worst, which, when you have a moment's leisure, must all -be rearranged, as the best, and not the worst has happened. But in the -meantime I have taken the most prompt measures to secure the -furniture, books, statues, pictures, and other chattels, left you -under your late worthy father's will. Now perhaps, as the fees and -other expenses are heavy--perhaps you would--as I understand you are -going to London directly--give me some little security in the shape of -a lien upon said property for the amount of costs. I have got a small -document here merely a few words, which will answer all the purposes, -if you will look it over." - -"Certainly," answered Chandos Winslow, taking the paper out of his -hand. "But you will understand, my good Sir, that I intend to pay -these costs from other resources; and therefore you must assure me -that you will not use this paper, which, I see, gives you power to -sell, unless I fail in discharging your account within a reasonable -time." - -"Undoubtedly, undoubtedly," cried the lawyer, "it is merely as a -security--nothing more, I can assure you--all shall be taken care of, -and held sacred as the great seal." - -"An inventory of all these effects," continued Chandos, "has been -already made by a friend of mine; and as it seems fair enough that you -should have some means of paying yourself, I will sign the paper upon -the understanding I have mentioned." - -"Ah--oh--yes; here are pen and ink," said the solicitor: and the paper -was signed. - -"I thank you most sincerely, my dear Sir," said Chandos Winslow, "for -the interest you have taken, and the skill you have displayed in this -sad affair. But let me inquire what you meant just now? You spoke as -if my friend, Sir ----, was absent on business of mine, and as if I -knew what that business is. Will you have the goodness to explain?" - -"Oh, it is about that fellow who is so unfortunately like you," said -the lawyer, "the man whom Mr. Fleming and his servant must have -mistaken for you. He came to the door of the court just at the end, -and wanted to force his way in--did you not hear all the hubbub? But -Dickins, the tipstaff, is a capital fellow; and as soon as he had got -authority, he took him into custody, and walked him off. If he had got -in, he would have spoiled the whole defence, and played the devil." - -Chandos Winslow sunk down into his chair in horror and mortification. -"And is it possible," he exclaimed, "that the life of an innocent man -can depend upon a mere mistake of one person for another, and that in -an English court of justice too?" - -"Quite possible, my dear Sir," replied the little lawyer, "when the -party accused will not explain suspicious circumstances. I am -perfectly confident of your innocence--always have been--all those who -are well acquainted with you are the same; and it seems that our -leader knows it from the facts that you have stated to him. Indeed, it -was that carried him through; for if he had not been perfectly sure, I -do not think even he could have made such a defence. But I can tell -you, Mr. Winslow, that if that worthy had got into court when he -tried, you'd have had a verdict of 'guilty' against you; unless, -indeed, Sir ---- had some back card to play: which I think he -had--always did think he had--and that kept my courage up. Perhaps the -real story would have popped out, if the alibi had failed. However, -there is no use thinking of these things now. We've got a verdict: -all's safe; and not all the judges in England can overset it." - -"But there is something more to an honest man than merely getting a -verdict," said Chandos, gravely. "When it is known how the verdict has -been obtained, what will men think of me? How can I be satisfied with -such an acquittal, obtained by a gross and extraordinary error." - -"Oh! in courts of justice, my dear Sir, it is very customary to combat -error by error. You were likely to be hanged by one fallacious train -of evidence: we have saved you by another. Error for error, that's -all--rather odd, but very satisfactory." - -"By no means satisfactory to me," replied Chandos Winslow. - -The little lawyer grinned as if a merry reply was rising to his lips; -for to win the cause was all he cared for; and the means seemed to him -of very little consequence. But his answer was cut short by the -entrance of the great barrister, who shook the late prisoner warmly by -the hand, without, however, venturing to congratulate him upon the -result of the trial. The little solicitor took his leave; and as soon -as he was gone Sir ---- turned kindly to his friend, and, taking him -by the hand, he said, "I understand all that you feel, my dear -Winslow; but put your mind at ease. No one will doubt your innocence, -although we were obliged to take advantage of a good man's mistake to -gain a verdict from the jury." - -"It is bitterly mortifying to me," answered Chandos Winslow; "to feel -that I have been acquitted solely by an error." - -"What could be done?" answered the barrister. "You prohibited me from -using the only legitimate means of defence; and, although the -demolition of a great part of the evidence against you by my young -friend B----'s cross-examination, taken with the fact of another -person having been coming from the grounds at the very time of the -murder, might have raised a doubt in the minds of the jury, and you -might have obtained a verdict in your favour after long hesitation; -yet the suspicion which would then have attached to you, would have -been very strong, and very general. As it is, no doubt will rest with -any one, but the two or three who may have seen your friend Lockwood, -and remarked the extraordinary likeness between you." - -"And yet that, my dear friend," replied Chandos, "will be enough to -embitter the whole of the rest of my life." - -"Do not suffer it to do so," answered his friend; "for the judge who -tried the case is quite convinced of your innocence: and I must now -tell you, though it may spoil your dinner, that suspicion has lighted -on the right person." - -"How so?" answered Chandos, starting up. "I trust you have not -mentioned any of the facts." - -"They are all still under the seal of confession," replied the -barrister, with a smile; "but the circumstances are these. A person by -the name of Lockwood, who, it seems, is your half-brother, was taken -into custody for creating a disturbance at the door of the court. He -mentioned some circumstances to the constables, which were reported to -the judge, who saw him in his room after the rising of the court. The -great likeness instantly struck his lordship. He made inquiries which -brought out the whole story of Lockwood's visit to Mr. Fleming. I was -immediately sent for, and had to submit to a veiled and courteous -reproach for the course I had thought fit to pursue. For a moment -Lucifer had nearly prevailed to make me treat his lordship somewhat -cavalierly; for the trial was over, and he had nothing to say to it; -but thinking better of the matter, I showed him that it was impossible -for me to refuse evidence in your favour voluntarily tendered; and, at -the same time, I gave him my word of honour, that I would not have -pursued the course I did pursue, unless I had the most positive -certainty of your innocence, although circumstances which I was not -permitted to mention, prevented me from proving the real facts before -the jury. His lordship is very keen and quick in his combinations: he -had Lockwood in again while I was there, and asked him two or three -questions, which elicited the following facts: that your brother and -Mr. Roberts were by no means upon good terms, and that several sharp -discussions had taken place between them;--that Mr. Roberts had -discovered, among some papers at Winslow Abbey, a memorandum in your -father's handwriting, to the effect that a will of a much more recent -date than the one proved had been given into your brother's hands some -time before Sir Harry's death; that Roberts knew the particulars of -that will, which were very favourable to yourself; and that he had -gone over from Winslow Abbey to Northferry House, in order to -communicate the facts to you. This, of course, was sufficient to show -that you could have no earthly motive for taking the poor man's life; -but when Lockwood went on to state, that Sir William at the very time -of the murder was at Northferry House, his lordship immediately -connected that fact with the hasty return of some one from the grounds -through the green-house, and some strange circumstances which have got -abroad regarding your brother's marriage with Miss Tracy--with Miss -Emily Tracy, I mean," he added, seeing Chandos Winslow's face change -as he spoke. - -"My brother's marriage with Miss Tracy!" exclaimed the latter; "I -never heard of it." - -"Oh, yes," continued the barrister, "they were married--or half -married; for I believe the lady fainted in the midst of the ceremony; -and a letter having been suddenly given to your brother, he left his -bride in the church and went abroad. All these circumstances made out -a case of suspicion in the judge's mind against Sir William, which he -strove cunningly enough to confirm by putting some dexterous questions -to me. I was as silent as the dead; and after some further -conversation he dismissed your friend Lockwood with a reprimand. -Nevertheless, I feel sure his lordship will hold some communication -with the magistrates on the subject; but do not believe they will be -able to prove anything against your brother without your evidence." - -"Which they will never have," replied Chandos Winslow. - -"But which they ought to have," replied the barrister, shaking his -head; "and now my good friend, I must run away, to cleanse my face and -hands from the filth of courts. I have invited two or three of the bar -to meet you. After dinner, at half-past nine, and at a quarter-past -ten, I have two consultations. At eleven I am off for London; and if -you will take a place in my carriage, I will give you a little advice -by the way; for, from Lockwood's information, I think you would have a -good case for stopping the sale of Winslow Abbey." - -"I must go over to Northferry first," replied Chandos; "but I will see -you when I come to town. I am afraid, however, it is too late to stop -the sale." - -"Oh dear, no," replied his friend; "the only thing that is too late is -my toilet; for I hear the voice of our learned antagonist, inquiring -for my rooms;" and, running through the neighbouring door, he made his -escape just as Sergeant ---- was announced. - -It was with no very pleasant feelings, it must be confessed, that -Chandos Winslow found himself tęte-ŕ-tęte with a man who had moved -heaven and earth to hang him, not more than four or five hours before. -But whatever notion he had previously formed of the worthy sergeant's -demeanour in private life, from the part he had borne in the trial, it -was very speedily dissipated after he entered unwigged and ungowned. -The sergeant shook him heartily by the hand, congratulated him with a -very joyous laugh, upon the result of the trial, and talked of the -whole affair in which a fellow-creature's life had been at stake, as -if it had been a mere game at cards, where Sir ---- had held most -trumps, and won the rubber. Never was there a more jovial companion; -and when they sat down to dinner, after several other barristers had -arrived, the sergeant laughed and talked and cracked his jokes, and -drank his champagne, till one of the uninitiated might have thought a -consultation with him, after the meal, an expedient somewhat -dangerous. - -The conversation during dinner principally turned upon snipe-shooting. -There was very little law; and the "feast of reason and the flow of -soul" did not afford the banquet the lawyers seemed most to delight -in. Habit is very strong in its power over the body; but, I think, -even stronger with the mind. The most vehement rivalries, the most -mournful ceremonies, the most tragic scenes, aye, even the most fatal -events lose their great interest when they become habitual. The -statesman, the undertaker, the physician, the soldier can bear witness -to it, as they feast after the fierce debate, the solemn funeral, the -painful death-bed, or the battle-field. Nothing on earth ever makes -twice the same impression. How those lawyers laughed and talked, -though two trials had taken place since that of Chandos Winslow had -terminated, and a woman had been condemned to death, a man had been -sent to expiate one half of a criminal life by labouring during the -rest in chains and exile! - -Chandos felt benumbed by the heavy weight of the past, and not cheered -by the light emptiness of the present; so that he was glad when dinner -was over, and coffee drunk. The men of law betook themselves to -earnest consultations, reinvigorated by the temporary repose; for in -reality and truth, during that seeming revel, the giant minds had but -been sleeping. It was rest that they took: and happy are they who are -enabled to cast off the burden of heavy thought, the moment that it is -no longer necessary to bear it. - -Chandos took leave of his friend for the time, and ordered a chaise -for Northferry; but while it was in preparation he issued forth to -inquire in the town for Lockwood. His search was vain, however. He -found out the place where his half-brother had dined, after being -discharged from custody by the judge's order; and he learned at the -prison that he had been there to inquire after him; but nothing more -could he discover, and the demeanour of the people of whom he inquired -was not pleasant. They neither said nor did indeed anything that was -uncivil; but there was an instant look of intelligence wherever he -presented himself, which said, as plainly as a look can speak, "There -is the man who was tried for murder!" It was all very painful; and he -returned to the inn, feeling himself a marked man for the rest of -life. - -It was a very painful feeling: it must ever be so; to know that his -name would never be mentioned without suspicion--that wherever he -appeared the tale would be told--the past spoken of. He fancied he saw -the shrugged shoulder, the significant smile, the doubtful look--that -he heard the poisonous insinuation, the affected tone of candour, and -the half-veiled accusation. On his name there was a stain, in his -reputation a vulnerable point: every enemy could strike him -there--every false friend, every jealous rival could wound him, either -with the bold broad charge, or the keen and bitter sneer. He had been -tried for murder! It was a terrible fate; but it was irrevocable. The -brand, he thought, was upon him which no Lethe can wash out. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV. - - -The chaise rolled on rapidly in the darkness of the night. Chandos was -fatigued--exhausted--but he slept not. Weariness of mind often -produces the same effect as overfatigue of body, and refuses that rest -which is needful for its cure. His thoughts, too, were very busy. What -was next to be done? What was the course he was to pursue in life? A -new chain was upon him, a fresh obstacle was in his way. He had stood -in the felon's dock accused of the highest crime known to the law. -What an impediment was that to all advancement! In what profession -would it not prove a barrier almost insuperable? And Rose Tracy, what -would be the effect upon her? He would not believe that it would -change her; but yet, though she might still love, though that -consolation might be left him, how could he expect that her father -would either listen to his suit, or permit his daughter to give even -hope to a man marked out by such a record as that which stood against -his name? Even if he did, what chance, what prospect was there of his -ever being in a position to claim her hand? - -On such subjects rolled his thoughts, one following another, -innumerable, like the waves of an overflowing sea, while mile after -mile of the way went by. The night was dark and warm; one of those -dull, sultry spring nights, when the clouds seem to wrap the whole -earth in a dull, damp pall, shutting out the breath of heaven. The -windows were all down, and Chandos gazed forth upon the darkness, -finding something therein congenial to the heavy obscurity of his own -fate, offering nothing to interrupt the gloomy current of his -thoughts, yet tranquillizing them with a solemn stillness. - -"Mr. Tracy I must see," he thought; "for we have business to settle: -and Rose I will endeavour to see, that I may know, or at least guess -at her feelings. But I will not try to bind her to anything. It would -be cruel--ungenerous. No, no; my fate must be cleared of these dark -clouds, before I dare ask her to walk forth under the same sky as -myself." - -And then he thought of leaving her--perhaps, of losing her--of never -seeing that fair face, that sweet smile again--of hearing that she was -united to another. And his heart was very bitter. - -On, on, rolled the chaise, as quick as the post-boy could induce the -horses to go. It was a long stage, a dark night, and a weary way back. -He wished it was over, and his boots off. They passed through -Milltown, and rattled over Longheath, then down they went into stony -Langburn, and then slowly up the hill again. When they got to the top, -the horses were once more put into a brisk pace, and away they went -over the downs, with darkness all around them, and the road hardly -distinguishable from the turf. But still the post-boy kept upon his -way, knowing the ground by habit, in the night as well as in the day. -At length they went rapidly down the hill near the bottom of which -stands the thirteenth milestone from S----, and just as the chaise -crossed the little rivulet which winds on through the valley, Chandos -felt a sudden jerk, and then a depression of the vehicle. A grating -sound followed, while the horses pulled on for a yard or two, and then -the chaise stopped. The post-boy got down and poked his head under the -carriage, swore a little, and approaching the door, told the traveller -that the axle was broken. - -"That is bad news, indeed," said Chandos Winslow. "How far are we from -an inn?" - -"About three miles, Sir," replied the man; "but if you just go back to -the stone, and take the path to the right, it will save you half-a-mile. -I must get the horses out, and leave the shay here; but I'll put your -portmanteau on the off horse, and get it up that way." - -"But can I miss the road?" asked Chandos. "It is long since I was in -this part of the country." - -"Lord bless you, Sir; you can't miss it, no how," rejoined the man; -"it is as straight as a line. You just go by the old, tumble-down -mill, and then half-a-mile further you come to the church, and then--" - -"I know, I know," answered the young gentleman; "I recollect it now;" -and he walked away, turning back for a moment to tell the driver to -order him a fresh chaise for Northferry, if he arrived first at the -inn. - -The little path on which he had been directed rose gently from the -place where the milestone stood, to surmount the shoulder of the high -range of hills over which they had been passing for the last two -miles; and it was plainly marked out by the white, chalky staff of -which it was composed, from the dark hue of the short turf upon the -downs. After Chandos had gone on for about the distance of a mile, -there seemed to be a glimmering amongst the clouds to the east, and -the objects around became more distinct. The moon was rising. Quarter -of a mile further, he caught sight of a mill, which he now remembered -well; for it had often served him as a sort of landmark in his youth, -and was connected with memories both very pleasant and very painful. -It lay upon his right hand as he went, and he knew that, from the high -point on which it had been placed, to catch all the winds, Elmsly, one -of his father's seats, was just seven miles distant by the hill paths, -and Winslow Abbey, just eleven on the other side; though the distance -between them by the roads was twenty-four. - -He had not seen that mill, however, for many years; for unpleasant -associations had attached themselves to it of late, and overbalanced -the pleasant recollections of youth. As he now gazed on it, walking -on, the sight, as it stood out from the sky, which was of a pale gray, -with the moon's light amongst the clouds, did not cheer him; and the -long, thin arms of the rotting sails called back to his mind the -description which Lockwood had given of it. - -From the point where the mill was passed by the path, the latter -descended towards the little town where Chandos expected to get -horses; but ere it reached that bourne, the road he was following had -a labyrinth of lanes and hedges to go through. Before it came to that -more cultivated part, however, it ran some way along at the bottom of -the bare hills amongst some green pasture-ground with the downs on the -right and the hedgerows on the left. Just in the midst on this track -stood a little detached church, called St. Mildred's, with a tall -conical spire, somewhat dilapidated, and a little churchyard, within -a ruined stone-wall. Though the faint moon through the veil of cloud -did not afford much light below the edge of the hill, yet the spot -where the church stood was marked out by its spire rising over -everything else around, and by the numerous black yew-trees in its -garden of graves. Chandos saw it some time before he reached it, and -the sight of it too was sad to him. Yet when he was opposite the rude -gate; with its cross-beam over-head, he stopped to gaze at the old -church and its dark funeral trees; and that sensation which sometimes -comes salutary over us, of the nothingness of human joys and sorrows, -stole upon him as he asked himself, where were the hands that raised -the building--where those who planted the trees--where the many -generations that had passed since the one arose, the others sprang up. -As he paused--it was but an instant--he thought he heard a low moan, -as of some one in distress. It was repeated, and came from the -churchyard; and, opening the gate, he went in. The moans led him on -nearly to the back of the church, which stood detached, with no other -building near; but presently they ceased, and he looked around over -the waves of graves, and their little head-stones, without seeing any -one. He felt certain that the sounds had proceeded from a spot not far -distant; and, raising his voice, he asked, "Is any one there? Does any -one want help?" - -There was no answer; and, after stopping for a moment, Chandos walked -a step or two further; and then, looking a little to the left, he -thought he saw something like a human form stretched out upon one of -the little grassy mounds. He approached quietly, and looked down upon -it, perceiving that he had not deceived himself. It was the form of a -woman, lying with her face downwards upon a grave evidently not newly -made. She was living, for her breath came thick, and laden with sobs; -and Chandos asked in a kindly tone, "What is the matter, my good -woman? Can I do anything to assist you?" - -At the sound of his voice, the woman started up, exclaiming, -"You!--You here? Oh, fiend!"--But then she suddenly stopped, gazed at -his tall figure in the dim light, and then added, "Ah! is it you, Sir? -I did not know you: I thought it was another." And she sat herself -down upon the adjoining grave, and covered her eyes with her hands. - -"Surely I know your voice," said Chandos. "Are you not the gipsey -woman, Sally Stanley, the little boy's mother?" - -"You know my voice better than I know yours, it seems," replied the -woman; "for yours deceived me." - -"But what are you doing here, my poor woman?" inquired Chandos. "You -seem in great distress, on some account. Come, leave this place; it -can do no good to you, or any one, to remain weeping over a grave at -midnight." - -"Every year of my life, at this day, and this hour, Chandos Winslow," -replied the woman, "I come here to weep and pray over those I -murdered." - -"Murdered!" exclaimed her companion. "But it is nonsense, my good -woman; your brain is wandering." - -"I know it is," answered Sally Stanley; "I need no one to tell me -that. It does wander often, and sometimes long; but on this night it -wanders always. I said 'murdered,' did I not? Well, I said true. I did -murder him; but not as your brother murdered Roberts, the steward, -with one blow, that ended at once all pain and resistance--slowly, -slowly, I murdered him--by grief, and shame, and care, and despair; -aye, and want too had its share at last." - -"Good God! then who are you?" demanded Chandos Winslow. - -"Ask me no questions," answered the woman. "Ever since those days a -fire comes into my brain, from time to time, that nothing will put out -till it burns out of itself; and I see more than other people, know -more--I see the dead, alive; and I behold the unborn deeds before they -are committed; and the hand of God is upon me. Ever on this night--the -night when the old man died of sorrow, I am at the worst; for then it -is that my heart is given up to the hell of its own making, and I come -here to cool my brain and my bosom upon the green grass of his grave. -Disturb me not; but go, and leave me. I can have no help of man." - -"Nay, poor thing!" said Chandos Winslow, "I cannot, in truth, leave -you in such sorrow and in such a place, without trying to give you -some consolation. You have said you come here to pray. Do you not know -then, that, whatever be your offences, there is pardon and comfort for -all who pray in faith and with repentance?" - -"Aye; but we must all bear our punishment, nevertheless," replied the -woman. "Do not try to console me, young man. If you would needs stay, -(and it is better that you should, for I have wanted much to see you, -and have much to say to you,) sit down on the church step there for a -while, till this hour is past, and I will tell you things you want to -hear. But do not try to console me. God may give me consolation at his -own time. Man can never." - -Chandos was eager to get to his journey's end; but yet he felt real -compassion for the poor woman, and a strong reluctance to leave her -there alone. He thought that if he remained for a while, and humoured -her sorrow, she might be the sooner induced to quit the spot; and he -determined to sit down on the church steps, as she had said, and wait -the result. Such as I have said were his strongest motives for -remaining; but at the same time a doubt, a suspicion of the truth, to -which he would hardly give a moment's attention, crossed his mind; and -then her strange words regarding his brother and the steward awakened -still stronger curiosity, and made him almost believe that there had -been other witnesses, besides himself, to the crime for which he had -so lately been tried. - -"Well, I will wait, then," he said; and, retiring from the spot, he -seated himself at a distance, and gave himself up to thought. There is -nought so variable as the influence of thought upon our appreciation -of the passing of time. Sometimes it seems to extend the minutes into -hours, the hours into months and years. Sometimes thought seems to -swallow up time, and leave nought in existence but itself. The latter -was more the case with Chandos Winslow than the former. The church -clock struck one shortly after he sat down. It struck two before he -fancied that the hand had half paced round the dial, and a minute or -two after the woman was by his side. - -"You have waited patiently," she said, "and I will try and repay you. -I longed to see you as soon as I heard that it was all done, and you -were free. I owe you much; but you owe the gipsey woman something, -Chandos Winslow; for, had it not been for me, they would have found -you guilty." - -"Indeed!" said the young gentleman; "but how is that, Sally Stanley?" - -"Did not the parson bear witness that you had been with him that -night?--aye, and his servant too?" she asked. "Well, I found out that -they had mistaken Lockwood for you, and had mistaken me in what I told -them; and I went over to Sandbourne, and first told the good young man -of what they accused you, and that he ought to go and give evidence at -the trial. He was for setting out directly; but I let him know that -the inquest was over, and that he could do no good till the trial, and -bade him keep himself quiet till then. Lockwood would have spoiled it -all," she added, in a rambling manner; "but I took care of Lockwood -too, and kept him close till it was too late for him to do any harm. -He had nearly done it though, they tell me. He is a harsh man, -Lockwood." - -"But he has a good, kind heart," replied Chandos. - -"He does not mind treading on other people's hearts," she answered, -leaning her head upon her hand, and seating herself upon one of the -lower steps. "But whither are you going now, Sir? This is not the road -to London." - -"I am going to Northferry, Sally," replied Chandos. "I must see Mr. -Tracy, and your poor little boy. The dear child gave his evidence -nobly; but I find Mrs. Humphreys took him away out of the town as soon -as the trial was over." - -"Aye, he little knew whom he was giving evidence against," said the -woman, in a wild way; "but they tell me he behaved well." - -"You seem to have got intelligence of everything very soon," said -Chandos. - -"Sooner than anybody else," answered Sally Stanley; "we always do. You -Englishmen may try what you like--coaches, and railroads, and -telegraphs; but the gipsies will always have the news before you. -There were many of our people there, and I soon had the tidings. But -what do you want at Northferry? The boy is there, but he will do well -enough without you; and as to Mr. Tracy, you will not find him. He is -far enough away with all his. Have you not heard all that has -happened?" - -"No," answered Chandos; "I thought he was there. Has he gone to -London?" - -"They have taken him to London," answered the woman; "but I will try -and tell you all about it, if my brain will let me. You know that he -ruined himself with buying what are called shares; and that, to save -himself from the first shock, he sold his child--his Lilly, as he used -to call her--to a murderer--a murderer of old men. He thought, that by -selling the best of his shares he would be able to stave off the rest -of the sums he owed; and that the Northferry property would, at all -events, be saved for his own daughter, as it would become her -husband's--the murderer's. I told her how it would be long before. -Then the other girl, I suppose, was to be provided for by the old -General.--I only tell you what the people say. Well, let me see, where -was I? All the shares were to be sold; but the shares could not be -found; for a lawyer-man--a rogue, called Scriptolemus Bond, had run -away and carried them all with him. So Mr. Tracy was arrested, you -see, and taken to London; and his brother and the two girls went up -the morning after." - -"Good Heaven! did he really trust that man?" cried Chandos. "His -looks, his words, almost his gestures spoke him a charlatan. I heard -him boast he had a commission to buy shares for Mr. Tracy; but I -doubted the very fact, because he said it; and never believed that he -could be trusted to a large amount by a man not wanting in good -sense." - -"Everyman is a fool in some points, and every woman a fool in one," -answered Sally Stanley. "But I have nothing to do with his folly or -his wisdom.--What is it to me? However, he wanted to make his riches -more; and then every man goes mad. He trusted a knave, and the knave -ran off with the plunder. So Mr. Tracy is in prison, or something like -it, and the knave is free." - -"This is sad--this is very sad," said Chandos. "Is there no trace of -this villain, who has brought a kind and generous family from -affluence to beggary?" - -"Oh! he will go at large like other villains," replied the woman. "The -world is full of them, and they sit in high places. It is very strange -that all men take so much interest, and feel so much compassion for a -rich man that falls into poverty; while a world more misery may come -upon a humble household without drawing a tear beyond the four walls -of their own cottage." - -"There is some truth in what you say," replied her companion, -thoughtfully; "but yet, the fall from high to low is deeper than from -low to lower: the contrast more painful. I should think, too, that you -would much regret this misfortune to Mr. Tracy's family, as thousands -of others, in a far inferior position to himself, in point of fortune, -will mourn over it. Can you tell me a family who were more kind to all -around them? Can you tell me a rich man whose wealth was more -liberally shared with the poor and needy? Was any man suffered to want -in his neighbourhood, if Mr. Tracy or his daughters could relieve him? -Did any child lack education in his neighbourhood from the parents' -poverty? Was he harsh even to those for whom the laws are harsh? Even -your own child: did not these two young ladies, who now, perhaps, are -weeping over their own and their father's ruin, show themselves kind, -and tender, and generous to him?" - -"I am wrong, I am wrong, Chandos Winslow," cried the woman; "but -something makes me bitter this night. I am not myself, young man, I -tell you. You must come and speak with me another day, and perhaps I -can do something. The man you speak of is a good man, and should be -saved. Let us try to save him." - -"But how can that be done?" asked Chandos, sadly. "He is already -ruined, it would seem." - -"Oh, no; no one is ruined who has not broken a father's heart, and -laid him in the grave," replied Sally Stanley: "that is ruin! that is -ruin! It is ruin here--and here;" and she laid her hand upon her brow, -and upon her heart. "But you will come and see me, and talk to me -again, and see what can be done to save him." - -"Why, what can you do in a matter like this?" asked her young -companion. - -"Did I not help to save your life?" she demanded, quickly. "I may do -something in this too--come back and I will tell you more. I must have -time to think. To-night I have no thoughts. Will you come?" - -"But where shall I find you, and when?" asked Chandos. "Your abode, I -fancy, is always varying; and I might seek you over the whole country -without discovering you." - -"Come in a fortnight to the place where we met three months ago, when -you were going on a scheme that all the wise ones and the great ones -would have thought madness," was the woman's reply. "You recollect the -place in the lanes above Northferry: come there. I knew not at that -time what drove you out of that fine house at Elmsly, and made you put -on a gardener's coat, and take service like a hireling. I thought it -was the Jacob and Laban story; and that you were going to serve for a -fair wife; but I know more now. And a sweet, good girl she is, too. -Her gay heart will be dull enough now, I dare say, poor thing; but you -must go and comfort her." - -"Where am I to find her? is the question," answered Chandos. "But, -doubtless, I shall hear from the servants at Northferry." - -"The servants!" cried the woman, with a laugh: "there are no servants -there. The house is shut up. Half the servants are discharged; and the -rest are gone with the old General and his nieces to London. But I -will tell you where to find them. He has a house in a place they call -Green-street though it is as brown as all the rest of the den. Go -there, and ask for them, and you will find some of them, at least." - -"Do you mean that Mr. Tracy has a house in Green-street?" asked -Chandos. "Or are you still speaking of the General?" - -"Of the General, to be sure," replied the woman. "It is a small, -narrow house, fit for a solitary man. I was there once, and the old -soldier, his servant, was kind to me, because I talked to him of -Northferry, and the places round. He is not a bad man, General Tracy, -as men go--better than most; and I think he will keep his word with -the boy, whatever be his concern for his brother." - -"You may be quite certain he will," replied her companion. "General -Tracy is a man of honour, and never breaks his word." - -"What! not to a woman?" demanded Sally Stanley, with a mocking laugh. -"Well, go up to him, and see. Put him in mind of the boy; and tell him -for me, that mice sometimes help lions, as the old fable-book says -that I read at school. Then come down to me this day fortnight; and -perhaps I may tell you more--I do not say that I will--I do not say -that I can; but yet I have seen more unlikely things. Do you know -anything of your brother?" - -"Nothing," replied Chandos, "but that he has gone to the -continent--whither, I know not." - -"He has taken a bad heart and a heavy conscience with him," said the -woman. "But you must learn where he has gone; for some day you will -have to claim your own at his hands. He will not always triumph in his -wickedness. A day of retribution will come." - -"I trust he is not so wicked as you seem to think," answered Chandos -Winslow; "and, at all events, I pray, if he have done wrong, as -doubtless he has in some things, that repentance rather than -retribution may reach him." - -"If he has done wrong!" cried the woman, vehemently. "Chandos Winslow, -do you not know that there is upon him a load of crime that may well -weigh him down to perdition? I know not what you saw on that dark -fifth of February; but there were those who saw you with a dead man's -head upon your arm, mourning over him--there were those who saw that -dead man walking alive with your own brother five minutes before; and -fierce were the looks and sharp the words between them. Our people -never go into your courts to bear witness for or against you; but -there were words spoken and overheard that night which would have -taken the charge from you and placed it where it ought to be, had -those words been told again before the judge. There were words spoken -which shall not be forgotten, and which may yet rise up and bear fruit -that he wots not of." - -Chandos Winslow laid his hand gently on her arm. "Vengeance," he said, -"is a terrible passion. It is possible my brother may have injured you -in times long past. I think it must be so, from much that you have -said. But if so, I beseech you, seek not in anyway to injure him; for -in so doing, you would but render yourself more wretched than you tell -me you are. You too may have done wrong--you too may have brought -unhappiness on others. Forgive, if you would be forgiven. I think I -know you now; and if I do, it explains much that was doubtful -regarding one for whom and for whose wrongs I have deeply grieved, -believing her dead full eight years ago. My brother has, I have reason -to believe, wronged me too; but if he has, I have forgiven him; and -you may see that it is so when you recollect that even to save my own -life I would not endanger his." - -"And have you grieved for me, Chandos Winslow?" said the woman. "I -knew you pitied me; but I thought not the bold, brave boy would long -think of her he sought to see righted. I found sympathy and kindness -with those who saved my life, and I became one of them; but I thought -all the rest of the world had forgotten me. And you grieved for me! -God's blessing be upon you for it; be you blest in your love, and in -your fortune, and in your children; be you blessed in health of body -and of heart; be your age tranquil and your death calm. But, hark! -There are people calling. What can they want? It is not any of our -people. They know themselves better than to make such a noise." - -"It is most likely some of the people from the inn seeking me," -replied Chandos. "I sent on the post-boy with orders to have a chaise -ready for Northferry; and I am so late, they may think me lost, or -murdered." - -"Go then, go quick," cried the woman; "do not let them come hither: -and forget not in a fortnight to return." - -"I will remember," answered Chandos; and bidding her adieu in a kindly -tone, he left the churchyard. - -It was as he thought. The people of the inn had become alarmed at his -long absence, and had sent out to seek him. He gave no account of his -detention, however, when he met the messengers, but merely said he had -stopped a while by the way. - -On his arrival at the inn, he found the chaise he had ordered at the -door, ready to carry him to Northferry; but a change had come over his -purpose. He paused, indeed, and meditated for a moment or two, asking -himself if he could depend upon the woman's information, and -considering whether it might not be better to proceed as he had at -first proposed. But he speedily concluded in favour of the more -impetuous course; and, ordering the ticket to be changed, and the -chaise to drive towards London, gave occasion for some marvel on the -part of the landlord, at what the worthy host thought fit to call "the -gentleman's queer ways." - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI. - - -There is a nice little country inn at Mantes, on the Seine. The rooms -are plain and small, but neat; and those three which were at the end -of the corridor, that is to say, a sitting-room and two bed-rooms, -were occupied by an English gentleman and his valet de chambre. The -English gentleman's name appeared in his passport as Mr. Somers; but -the valet when he was dressing him in the morning, or serving him at -dinner, which he did not trust to the waiters of the inn, called him -"Sir William." This valet was an Italian, but he spoke English -perfectly well; and nothing but his complexion and a very slight -foreign accent betrayed that he was not a native of Great Britain. He -was a quiet, exceedingly quiet man, with none of the vivacity of the -South about him; saying very little to any one, but that little of the -civilest possible character. Yet there was that in his eye which -seemed to say the spirit was not quite as tranquil as the body--a -sharp, quick glance when anything was said, be the subject what it -might; a flush when he was blamed, which supplied the place of words. -He had been brought over by Sir William (then Mr.) Winslow, from Rome, -three or four years before; and had remained with him ever since. His -fellow-servants loved him not; and it had been observed, that if any -of them ventured to offend him, that man did not remain long in Sir -William's service. - -Now the people of the inn remarked two or three thing which they -thought somewhat strange in their guest. He very seldom went out in -the middle of the day, although the weather was by no means yet so -warm as to render the early mornings and late evenings pleasant, or -the high noon unpleasant. He seemed very restless, too, when he was in -the house, would walk up and down the room by the hour together, or -wander from his bed-room to his sitting-room and back, with unmeaning -activity. Then he never read anything but a newspaper: but he was an -Englishman, and that passed. He frequented no cafe either; and did not -even go to see the three great ostriches when they were exhibited in -the marketplace. All this seemed very strange; but the valet held his -tongue, and neither landlord, nor landlady, nor head-waiter could make -anything of it. They could not find out even whether he had lost his -wife or not; though such was the landlady's opinion, for he was -dressed in deep mourning. The head-waiter had vague notions of his -having stolen silver spoons, and being uneasy in his mind. - -One morning he had either passed a very good or a very bad night, for -he rose before it was light; and as soon as it was, went and walked -upon the bank of the river. At a little after seven he came in again, -hurried up stairs, called loudly for Benini, his valet, did not find -him, and went into his bed-room to conclude his toilet, which was only -half finished when he went out. At the end of half-an-hour he was in -his sitting-room, and found the cloth laid for breakfast. He rang, and -his servant appeared. - -"Have you got the letters and newspapers, Benini?" asked Sir William. - -"No, Sir," replied the man. - -Sir William gave him a fierce oath, and a bad name, and asked him why -the devil he had not, when he knew that his master was so anxious to -see the result of that cursed trial. - -"Because the post never comes in till after eight, Sir William," -answered the man calmly. - -"Sometimes sooner, sometimes later," replied his master; "you should -have gone to see when you knew I was impatient for news. Go directly, -and do not let me find you grow negligent, or, by--! I will send you -packing back to your beggarly country a great deal faster than you -came out of it." - -The gleam came up in the man's eyes; but he answered nothing, and went -quietly to the post-office. - -In five minutes he came back again, without either letters or -newspapers. The post from Paris had not come in. Sir William ordered -breakfast, and told him to go again, and wait till he could bring the -packets. The man went, and was absent an hour. Either he or the post -had resolved to punish Sir William's impatience. It might be either; -for assuredly there is a perversity about fate in regard to letters, -which makes those most desired tarry by the way, those least longed -for come quick and unexpected. When he did come he brought several -letters and two newspapers; but it was the latter which were first -opened. The first and second pages of the voluminous sheet were passed -over unread, and part of the third; but then Sir William's eye -fastened upon the tall column, and with a straining gaze he went on to -read the defence in the case of the crown against Chandos Winslow. -Rapidly he ran the whole over, and his face lighted up with joy. His -name had never been mentioned; the defence was an alibi; his brother -had him not in his power. Chandos could not pretend to have witnessed -anything when he had proved that he was far from the spot; and Sir -William started up with joy and relief, saying aloud, "This is -excellent!" Then seeing the eye of the valet coldly fixed upon him, he -added, "You will be glad to hear, Benini, that my brother is -acquitted. He has shown that he was at a distance when the murder was -committed, by the evidence of Mr. Fleming and his servant--perfectly -unimpeachable--and I have no longer the dread of having my name -coupled with that of a felon, in such near relationship. I shall go -back to England directly: so get ready, and order horses at eleven." - -"I am very glad to hear such news, indeed, Sir William," said the -Italian; "I knew Mr. Winslow was not guilty." - -The words struck his master, and raised a momentary fear. "I knew Mr. -Winslow was not guilty!" he repeated to himself, when the man had -retired. "How could he know? Pooh! it was only his foreign way of -speaking! Now, dear Emily, in a few short hours you shall be mine!" -and he proceeded to read the letters he had received. The two first he -merely glanced at; the third he read attentively. "Ha!" he cried; "Mr. -Tracy arrested! It is lucky the mortgage is perfect. The man, Bond, -run away with all the shares; and this fair, cold Emily a beggar! It -matters not. By Heaven! with such charms as hers, she has wealth -beyond the Indies. That swelling bosom, that proud, pouting lip, those -glorious limbs, are worth a diadem. Aye! and the liquid eyes, too, -were they not so cold! I will put fire into those dark orbs, give me -but time! We can surely have the horses by ten." - -There was no difficulty; the post had little to do in the spring of -the year; the carriage was soon ready, the horses too, the town of -Mantes left behind; Rouen, Dieppe, reached, and then the town of -Brighton. It looked gay and cheerful, with all its lights lighted, and -its population in motion, on a fine spring night, and the broad ocean -rolling dark and heavy along the shore. The fly was ordered to the -York, and Sir William Winslow walked into the nice rooms ready for -him, thinking still of Emily Tracy. Every man's mind is a web of which -one fixed and predominant idea forms the woof, while other threads -cross and recross it. With him the intense and vehement passion for -the fair girl whom he could hardly call his bride, was the foundation -of all his thoughts, as soon as the apprehension springing from -present peril of death and disgrace was removed. That passion had been -quelled and kept down for a time; but, like a fire upon which a load -of cold and heavy matter has been thrown, it burst forth again with -more vehement flame than ever, the moment it made its way through. -Remorse chequered it; vague, indefinite fears wove strange figures in -the web: but still the eager passion ran through all. When he felt -himself on English ground again, a certain degree of trepidation -seized him; and he remained in his handsome sitting-room at the York, -dull and heavy for sometime. His dinner at first would not down, and -it needed several glasses of Madeira and a pint of champagne to help -him through the meal. But then he grew quite gay again, and went out -to take a stroll in the town. He went into a library, and took share -in a raffle, and came back to set off early the next morning for -London. His mood was gay and happy, though an occasional touch of -gloom crossed it; but at all events it seemed to encourage his valet -to ask him for his quarter's wages, which were not due for four or -five days. The baronet, however, paid the money readily, and that -appeared to encourage the man still further. - -"I hope, Sir William," he said; "you will consider the difference -between wages here and in Italy, and will make a small advance in -mine." - -"Why, you damned vagabond," cried his master; "I give you half as much -again as most English gentlemen give their servants." - -"I thought, Sir, considering the circumstances," replied the valet; -"you might be pleased to allow me a little advance." - -"Considering the circumstances!" cried his master. "I know not what -circumstances you mean; but depend upon it you will not have a penny -more from me." - -The man bowed without reply; but in a minute or two he re-entered with -one of his master's morning coats over his arm. The right sleeve was -turned inside out, and he said, "Please, Sir William, what am I to do -with this coat. There are two or three spirts of blood upon it, which -it had fresh when you dressed for dinner on the fifth of February. I -have got them out of the cloth, but the water has soaked them through -into the lining." - -Sir William Winslow's face grew as pale as death, and then flushed -again, as he saw the man's cool, clear, dark eye fixed upon it. For an -instant he did not reply; but then he said, "I remember, my nose bled -several times in the spring. It does not matter; leave it as it is." - -The man folded it up, and laid it on a chair; and the next morning, -before they set off for town, his master himself began upon the -subject of wages. Benini was very moderate in his views; but before -the conversation was ended his wages were nearly doubled. - -Sir William Winslow seated himself in his carriage, with the -comfortable feeling, that the man who had such wages would be a fool -to deprive himself of such a master; but he recollected that he had -played the fool too--at least he thought so. "I ought to have told the -whole story at once," he said to himself. "The man insulted me, and I -struck him with the first thing at hand--harder than I intended; but -after all it was but a scuffle. If I had had the presence of mind to -state the facts at once, the inquest must have brought it in _chance -medley_." He forgot that juries sometimes inquire into motives too, -and might have asked whether the insult Mr. Roberts offered was not -the telling of too dangerous a truth. With the servant silenced, -however, by an annuity for secrecy, he thought the only grounds even -for a suspicion buried in oblivion; but nevertheless there came across -him a vague conviction, that he was for life a bondman to his own -valet. - -It was but the beginning of unpleasant sensations; but that was -enough. Man is a strange animal; but there is an inherent love of -freedom in his heart which is often the source of very high and noble -actions--sometimes of actions the reverse of high and noble. The -lightest chain upon the once free limb, how it galls and presses! but -what is the shackle of steel upon the body, to the chain upon the -mind? To find the spirit a serf, the thoughts manacled! that is to be -a slave indeed. No custom can lighten the load of those fetters, no -habit render them less corroding, nought can harden us to their -endurance. On the contrary, every hour, every minute that we bear -them, the burden grows more oppressive; and Sir William Winslow felt -it, as his carriage rolled on, and he groaned in bitterness of spirit. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII. - - -Small progress is made in post-chaises across country at night. On the -public high road it may do very well. One may go from London to York -as fast as Turpin, even without a railroad; but from county town A to -county town B, you had better wait for daylight. So did Chandos -Winslow find it; and it was broad day when he reached the fine old -town of Salisbury. As he got out of the chaise, he inquired if there -were not a coach to the railroad. The answer was, that it had gone by -ten minutes. There was another three hours after; but the waiter -informed him, that the light coach, the Hero, direct to London, set -out for town in an hour, and beat the rail by an hour and a half; (the -landlord was a proprietor of the Hero;) and upon this assurance being -reiterated from various quarters, Chandos, though not very fond of -heros, determined to try this specimen of the class, as he thought it -very likely that the promised enterprise would be achieved. His -finances, also, were not in a nourishing condition. For the first time -in life he was obliged to calculate shillings: the Hero was a far -cheaper conveyance than the railroad and coach combined; and after -having ordered and obtained some breakfast, he got upon the top of the -stage, and was driven away on the road to London. - -The number of passengers was very scanty; but some one had monopolized -the box; and Chandos was obliged to take up his position on the roof, -with a stout countryman on one side, a grazier by trade, who was full -of the famous cause which had just come off, as he termed it, at -S----. Chandos certainly gave him no encouragement; but when bottles -are filled too full they will run over; and his entertainment for the -next twenty miles was his own trial for felony. He had the -satisfaction, however, of finding a stout partisan in the good -grazier, who declared that he had been sure from the first the young -gentleman was innocent; for didn't he pay the fine two years before -for Matthew Green, the farmer's son, who was brought up for killing -some pheasants upon his father's farm? The reasoning did not seem -quite conclusive to Chandos, even in his own defence; but he knew that -he was not guilty of murder, and was glad to find that a good action -could live a day beyond its date. - -It was dark when the coach rolled into London, for it was not heroic -as to time; and the crowded streets, the blaze of gas-lamps, the -illuminated shops with their wide crystal fronts, and the multitudes -pouring hither and thither, each busy with his particular selfishness, -had a strange effect upon one who, for so many days preceding, had -been engrossed with the weighing of his own life and death in the mere -chance-balance of a court of justice. If there were any in all the -masses of human mites he saw who had ever heard of him, it was but as -the prisoner in the felon's dock; and by this time they had forgotten, -and thought of him no more. - -His own case had, in his eyes, seemed of immense importance not many -hours before. It had connected itself, in his imagination, with the -general administration of justice: it seemed to affect millions in its -chances and results. But now, in the midst of that wide ocean of life, -and feelings, and interests, all separate, all alone, yet all -connected with each other, it lost its magnitude, and seemed small -and insignificant in the diversified infinite around. "Birch, -pastry-cook;" "Gobble, mercer;" "Walker, fish-monger;" what was the -trial of Chandos Winslow to them? A tart, a yard of silk, a red -mullet, was of much more importance to each. And what more did care -any of the many who rushed past like ripples on a quick stream? Verily -there is truth in the saying, that the greatest solitude is in -multitudes; for there each man raises a thorny hedge of selfishness -around him, which excludes every other human being except the few for -whom he will be pleased to open the wicket. - -On arriving at the dull-looking inn where the coach stopped, the young -wanderer paid his fare, sought a bed-room, removed the dusty garments -in which he had travelled, and set out for the other end of the town. -As he passed through some small, quiet squares of smoked brick houses, -and escaped from the pressure of the multitude, Chandos, for the first -time, began to ask himself, what was the object of his visit, and what -the excuse he was to make for so speedy an appearance at General -Tracy's house. He went to see Rose Tracy--to hear of her, if not to -see her. But what could he say when he did see her? How was he to act -towards her?--how towards her uncle and her father? Though Mr. Tracy -might be ruined, yet Emily and Rose were the co-heiresses of their -uncle, a man of ample fortune; and Chandos could not shut his ears to -the question, Was he--just tried for murder, and acquitted on evidence -which must soon be proved to have been given in error--he whose -pittance, originally so small, had been further diminished by an -expensive trial--was he in a position to ask the hand or seek the -promise of one of General Tracy's nieces? He found it difficult to -answer. Then he inquired what he should assign as his motive for -following the family at once to London; and he thought of many things, -but at length determined to trust to chance, as, perhaps, was the -wisest plan. - -Ah! that chapter of accidents, with its manifold pages, how often do -its magic spells relieve poor mortals from their greatest -difficulties! What wonders has it not done for every man! Which man -amongst us, if he were to look back through life with sane and -scrutinizing eyes, would not find that far more than one-half of all -his successes--far more than one-half of all his reverses--far more -than one-half of all that has befallen him in life, is attributable to -that broad chapter of accidents, and not to his own efforts, his own -errors, or his own fore-thought. - -Chandos Winslow walked up Green-street, at length; and then the -question became, which is General Tracy's house? He fixed upon one, -and rang the right-hand bell. An unknown and powdered servant -appeared, and informed him very civilly, (for Chandos Winslow's -appearance was not easily to be mistaken for anything but that of a -gentleman,) that the house was Lord ----'s; but he added the -information that was wanted. General Tracy's abode, he said, was about -ten doors further up, nearer to the Park: the gentleman would see a -small brass-plate upon the door. Chandos soon found the door and the -brass-plate, and as that house still possessed a knocker, he knocked. -The door was opened by the General's old servant, who had been with -him at Northferry; and the man almost started, certainly gazed with -wonder, when he saw the well-known face which presented itself. He was -an elderly man, whose wits when they once got into that state which I -must call "stirred-up," did not easily settle again; and in his ideas -regarding Chandos Winslow, there was some confusion. In his eyes -Chandos was, according to the happy figure of a celebrated lady, -"three gentlemen in one;" namely, Acton, the gardener, Sir William -Winslow's brother, and the prisoner upon trial for the murder of Mr. -Roberts; and there was in the man's air and manner a mixture of all -the expressions which those three personages were severally calculated -to call up--there was familiarity, there was respect, there was -consternation. - -"Lord, Mr. Acton!" he exclaimed, "is that you? Well, I am very glad to -see you, Sir; Lord 'a mercy! only to think!" - -"Is General Tracy, at home?" asked Chandos, in a somewhat agitated -tone. - -"No, Sir," replied the man; "he has gone with Mr. Tracy to a meeting -of the lawyers; but the young ladies are upstairs, and I am sure they -will be glad to see you." - -"Pray, tell them I am here," said Chandos: and the man went up to the -drawing-room accordingly. In a minute after, he came half-way down, -and, looking over, desired Chandos to walk up. With a quick step he -did so, and was ushered into the drawing-room, where he found those -two beautiful girls, both somewhat pale, and both somewhat agitated. -Emily remained upon the sofa; but Rose, with her lip quivering, and -tears in her eyes, advanced to meet him. - -"Oh, I am so glad to see you," she said, holding out her hand. "This -is very kind of you, indeed, to come so soon." - -Chandos could not refrain; he pressed his lips upon the hand she gave -him; and then turned his eyes for a moment to the face of Emily, to -see if the act surprised her. She only smiled kindly. Chandos saw at -once from her eyes, that the two sisters trusted each other; and a -restraint was at once removed. - -"I am very happy, indeed, to see you, Mr. Winslow," said Emily; "for -till this morning we have been sadly anxious about you; and poor Rose -nearly ill with apprehension." - -She too gave him her hand, as she spoke; but Chandos did not kiss it. -Yet Emily was quite satisfied. - -It would be difficult to detail what followed; for it was but a -confused crowd of questions and answers, in all of which appeared the -deep interest which the parties took in each other. - -Chandos found that they were already acquainted with all the details -of the trial; for the whole family had devoured rather than read the -report, which had appeared in the evening papers. They spoke not of -the particulars, indeed; and, with them, Chandos was not inclined, to -dwell upon the subject; but it was evident and gratifying to him, that -not one of all Mr. Tracy's family had felt a doubt of his innocence. -Yet whenever the matter was named, the conversation became strange and -vague; so much so, indeed, that had any person unacquainted with them -been a witness of what passed, he might have supposed, had it not been -for the warmth of manner displayed, that a suspicion had existed and -still lingered. There was a cloudy sort of doubt, indeed, which -overshadowed the minds of both those fair girls, but a doubt which -attached not in the least degree to Chandos Winslow. In the mind of -Rose, that doubt amounted almost to a certainty; and some words which -she had incautiously dropped in her agonizing suspense as to the -result of the trial, had communicated suspicions to her sister, less -defined, but more painful, than those which she herself entertained. -With Chandos, of course, there was no doubt; he knew the truth too -well; but all the horror of that truth seemed to present itself more -strongly to his imagination, when he sat in the presence of poor -Emily, and recollected the tie, imperfect as it was, which bound her -to his brother. - -At length, after about a quarter of an hour had passed, Emily rose, -saying, with a smile, "I will leave you a little; for I know you must -have much to say to each other. My father and my uncle will soon be -back, and then I will join you again." - -When she was gone, a few minutes were given to tenderness. Dark and -sad events are skilful pioneers for love and confidence. They hew down -in no time all the barriers of restraint and reserve, and leave the -way free for heart to approach heart, unresisted. - -But Chandos Winslow felt that in deep enjoyment they were losing -moments precious for explanation: and at length he turned the -conversation, somewhat abruptly, perhaps, to his own situation, in -relation to herself. - -"I see, dearest Rose," he said, "that you have made a confidant of -your sister, and I am delighted that it is so; but I must not let my -hopes carry me too far, and lead me to believe that the pain and -anxiety which you must have suffered, have driven you to communicate -all that is between us to your father and your uncle." - -"I did not know that I might, Chandos," she answered: "in the dreadful -state of suspense and anguish in which your trial placed me, I could -not, indeed, refrain from sharing my thoughts with poor Emily. Thus -much, however, I thought myself bound to tell my father--that I had -known your real name from the moment you came to Northferry--that we -had met before, and passed one long, happy day together; but that you -had exacted from me a promise not to betray you, because you -particularly wished your brother not to know where you were. My father -asked but one question, which was, whether I believed I was myself in -any degree the cause of your coming to Northferry? I replied, -certainly not; for that I had every reason to believe you did not know -that I was there, or was his daughter. This seemed to satisfy him -perfectly; but indeed he has had so many painful things to think of, -that I do not wonder at his giving no further attention to the -subject. With my uncle, it is very different; for I am sure he -suspects, if he does not know the whole. You have heard, of course, -the sad change of fortune we have met with. My father is at liberty -now, on what they call bail, I believe; but I tremble every moment, -for what each ensuing day may produce. It is supposed, that the man -who has carried away all the shares, and bonds, and papers of that -kind, does not intend to sell them; as there would be difficulty and -danger in so doing, even in a foreign country; but is likely to -negociate with my father for the restitution, in consideration of a -sum of money, and indemnity for the past. Nothing has been heard of -him, however; and in the meantime it is ruin to my father." - -"Has no part of his course been traced, dear Rose?" asked Chandos. - -"It was at first supposed he had gone to the Continent," replied his -fair companion; "but every inquiry has been made at the passport -offices, and no trace of a person of his peculiar appearance can be -found at any of those places. They now fear that he may have escaped -to America." - -"He is not a man to be mistaken," said Chandos: "I saw him once when I -was travelling up to London in January; and in the public carriage -itself he could not refrain from making use of your father's name to -entrap others. He tempted even me, Rose, poor as I am: and those words -bring me, dear girl, to matters which had better be spoken of at -once--spoken of even between you and me, although, perhaps, it is -strange to mention them to you at all--." - -"Tempted you, Chandos!" exclaimed Rose Tracy. "Oh! I hope he did not -succeed." - -"Oh, no!" answered her lover; "but yet I was in a degree tempted. I -was going to London, with my thoughts full of Rose Tracy, with my -heart full of passionate attachment. I felt that under the will of my -father, which had been proved, my means were far too small, without -some great exertion on my own part, to justify me in pretending to her -hand; and at the very moment when I was thinking of how I could mend -my broken fortunes--by what effort, by what scheme, however bold, I -could acquire a position which would give me even hope, this man -crossed me with visioned promises of speedy wealth. But a moment's -reflection on the means, a moment's examination of the man himself, -dispelled the illusion. Now, however, dear Rose, it behoves me to put -the same questions to myself which I then put. I am not richer, but -poorer; all I have on earth is but a pittance, barely enough to -maintain myself in the rank of a gentleman. What will your father, -what will your uncle say, if I presume to tell them of my love, and -ask for it their countenance and approbation?" - -Rose leaned her head upon her hand, and her eyes filled with tears; -but she answered at length, "You must tell them, at all events, -Chandos. You cannot tell, you cannot imagine the pain--the agony of -mind which the concealment I have already practised has brought upon -me--innocent and justifiable as I thought it. Oh! Chandos, for my sake -you must abandon all further disguise." - -"For your sake, dear Rose, I would do anything," replied Chandos -Winslow; "but of course you do not wish me to enter upon the subject -to-night. To-morrow I must go into the city to sell out a part of my -small portion, in order to pay the expenses of the late trial. I must -also see my friend, Sir ----, who so nobly and ably defended me. He -seems to entertain a belief--on which, however, I would not found the -slightest hope--that a subsequent will of my father's may either be -recovered, or the intention of it proved, or something of the kind--I -really do not exactly know what; and that I may be thereby enabled to -stop the sale of Winslow Abbey." - -Rose started; but ere she could explain the effect which such a step, -if it were practicable, might have upon the fortunes of her father, a -carriage drew up to the house, and there was a footman's knock at the -door. Emily immediately joined them, and it was evident that she had -been weeping. Chandos knew not his strange position: but could he have -seen into the hearts of those two fair girls, what would he have -beheld?--That the one rejoiced at his acquittal of a crime she knew he -had not committed, yet saw therein the prospect of misery to herself -by the probable consequence of his brother's return to England; that -the other, while she could not but hope that he might establish his -rights, whatever they were, feared that her own father's utter ruin -would be thereby consummated. - -The next moment General Tracy and his brother entered the room. Mr. -Tracy's face bore evident marks of the mental suffering he had -endured and was enduring. The tranquil, well-satisfied, somewhat -self-sufficient air was gone; and there was a look of sadness, -bordering on the morose, in its place. No man likes to find himself a -fool; and most men try to prevent others from discovering the same -fact, or at all events to hide their own mental assent thereunto, by -assuming a cold pride which will not bate a jot of its dignity. Thus, -though he was shaken and evidently enfeebled in frame, he walked into -the room with as stately a step as if he had never committed a folly -in his life. - -General Tracy, on the contrary, was unchanged either in person or -demeanour. There was the stout, soldier-like, upright form; there was -the warm, rosy complexion; there was the frank, straightforward -bearing, and the warm, good-humoured smile, betokening the cheerful -disposition, so charming in an old man. He walked straight up to -Chandos Winslow and shook him heartily by the hand, saying, "Delighted -to see you, my young friend. None have taken a deeper interest in late -events than we have done in this small house; though it was impossible -for any of us to be down at S----. None have more rejoiced that you -have had fair play shown, and justice done you; for that was all we -feared--that some of the quirks and quibbles of the law, some of the -follies or obstinacies of jurymen, might make wrong seem right." - -Mr. Tracy also held out his hand to his former gardener, but it was -more coldly; and he only said, "I can assure you, Mr. Winslow, I never -entertained the slightest doubt regarding you, and rejoice much that -you have been able so fully to justify the opinion every one -entertained of you; though why you thought fit to play gardener for so -many months, I have not yet been able to divine." - -"That will be easily explained, Mr. Tracy," replied Chandos; "and to -explain it is one of the great objects of my coming here directly -after the trial. The facts are simply these: I had long entertained a -strong desire--a whim if you please to call it--to see the poorer -classes nearer than a rich man can usually see them. A good many years -ago, a very severe dispute occurred between my brother and myself, -into the particulars of which I need not enter. Whoever was in fault, -it left a coldness between us which never decreased. When my father's -will was read, I found that he had made me a dependent on my brother, -as far as it was in his power to do so. I was not disposed to be -dependent upon any man, nor to be under any obligation to one with -whom I was not on good terms. I expressed my determination--I trust, -in no ungentlemanly manner--to receive nothing from my brother; and a -sharp altercation ensued, which ended in my leaving a house that had -become his. A small property had been left me some time before by a -relation; my father had added by his will a very valuable library and -some fine pictures. With these I might either have limited my ambition -to what I had, or I might have opened for myself a new career; but I -accidentally heard, immediately after I quitted my brother's house, -that you were seeking a head-gardener. I had for four or five years -taken upon myself the entire superintendence of the fine gardens at -Elmsly, and my old whim of descending for a time from the station in -which I was born, and mingling with the poorer classes of the people, -as one of themselves, came back upon me. I had no knowledge that in -your daughter I should meet one who had known me in a different rank -of life; for the scenes where we had formerly met were so different -from the quiet seclusion of Northferry, that the identity of the name -of my fair acquaintance with that of the gentleman whose service I -sought, never struck me. I feel, however, Mr. Tracy, that I owe you an -apology for having deceived you as to who I was; but you will clearly -see that I had no hope of carrying out my scheme with any one, unless -my name and station were concealed." - -"A curious whim, indeed," said General Tracy; "and one which has had -very serious results. Nevertheless, I can perfectly understand the -feelings in which it was conceived, my young friend; for it is a sort -of thing I have often entertained an idea of myself, without having -ever had the spirit to carry it out. I dreamed of it even as a boy, -when reading the adventures of the disguised Haroun al Raschid." - -"I never had such visions," said Mr. Tracy; "nor do I think that the -enterprise would answer at all the object for which it was undertaken. -A man who descends, either voluntarily or involuntarily, from a higher -to a lower station in life, carries his own world of habits, thoughts, -feelings, and prejudices with him; and sees through the same -discoloured spectacles, though he may see a little nearer. But I -cannot afford to discuss such things to-night; for, to say the truth, -I am weary and harassed." - -Chandos received the last words as a somewhat broad and not very civil -hint to go, and accordingly rose and took his hat; but General Tracy -stopped him, saying, "Stay a minute, stay a minute; I want to talk to -you about two or three things, Winslow: first, I must know where you -are to be found; next, when we shall see you again." - -"I am, for to-night, the denizen of a very unfashionable part of the -world," replied Chandos, "and under the auspices of a somewhat -strange-looking monster, called the Swan with Two Necks, in Lad-lane; -but to-morrow I shall be at the ---- Hotel, in Cork-street. A man who -has been tried for murder will, of course, be an object of curiosity -and remark for a few days; and I wish to get it over as soon as -possible." - -"You are right," said the General; "but come down into the -dining-room, and let me talk to you about one or two things connected -with that same trial. Arthur, I suppose you will be gone to bed before -I come up. Good night!" and, taking up a light, the old officer led -the way down. - -Chandos bade adieu to the rest of the party, warmly in some cases, -somewhat coolly in another, and followed. When they were below the -General closed the door, and then shook his young companion by the -hand again, saying, "I congratulate you from the heart at the issue of -the trial, though that issue was brought about by means to me totally -unexpected." - -"Not more so to you than to myself, General," replied Chandos Winslow, -frankly; "that is to say, if you mean the evidence of Mr. Fleming and -his servant. Nor will I conceal from you for a moment, that the whole -of that evidence was false--under an error, I am quite sure; but none -the less false. I was not at Northferry at all that night after I -returned to my own cottage. Mr. Fleming must have mistaken Lockwood, -my half-brother, a natural son of my father's, for me. Indeed, the -likeness, I believe, is very great." - -"It is strange," said General Tracy, musing; and Chandos continued: -"Most strange! That the evidence which saved my life should be as -false as the accusation against me, is very curious indeed. Had I -known what Mr. Fleming was called for before he appeared, I would not -have suffered it; although I believe, had it not been for his -testimony, I should have been condemned for an act of which I am as -innocent as yourself; for, if you remark, there was but one -circumstance which could raise a reasonable doubt in my favour: that -of the servant lad, Michael Burwash, who saw some one return from the -grounds into the house after poor Roberts had crossed the lawn." - -"Do you know who that was?" asked General Tracy, quickly. - -Chandos was silent; and the old officer added: "It was your own -brother. You owe me that lad's evidence, Winslow; for, as soon as I -returned to Northferry, after seeing you in prison, I examined all the -servants myself, and sent word to your lawyer, that Burwash had -acknowledged the important fact you have mentioned. I then gave up -some time to an investigation of who the person could be who had come -in so late, and by such an unusual entrance. My brother was at home at -the time, I found. I was absent. None of the servants would think of -entering by the Green-house. On inquiring of Emily, whose room was -opposite to that where Sir William Winslow slept, I found that she -recollected having heard his door shut sharply just before she rang -for lights. Further, I found that he was very late down at dinner that -day; that he was agitated and strange in his manner; complained of -having over fatigued himself, and being unwell; and at length sent for -old Woodyard, and was bled. Since then, however, Rose has acknowledged -to me, that when speaking with you at the basin of gold-fish, she -heard your brother's voice, in the grounds, raised loud. After that I -had no doubt that Sir William was the person who returned in so -curious a manner--more I am not justified in saying." - -Still Chandos was silent, and sat with his eyes bent down upon the -Turkey carpet; and after gazing at him for a moment, General Tracy -turned abruptly to another part of the subject. - -"That brings me," he said, "to a point which I have hitherto -forgotten, Chandos, though it is one which should have been first -remembered. I have not yet thanked you, my dear young man, for the -delicacy and kindness you have shown in not calling Rose as a witness. -She was prepared to do her duty firmly; and when she spoke to me upon -the subject, I advised her to write to you and say so; but it is not -necessary to tell you what a painful task it would have been for her. -You must feel--indeed, you have shown you feel it; and I thank you -deeply for your consideration in this matter." - -"I would not have had her called for the world," answered Chandos; "I -know what a frightful thing to a woman must be a cross-examination in -a court of justice. If the opposite party called her, I could not, of -course, help it; but then I could have ensured--at least, I trust -so--that she was subject to no pain by the cross-examination of my own -counsel; and that was something." - -"Everything," answered the General; "and it seems strange to me that -they did not call her." - -"All things concerned with the trial were strange," said Chandos. "I -suppose in this instance the lawyers were well aware that your niece's -evidence was not likely to suit their purpose; for, I am sorry to say, -it was but too evident that the object of the counsel for the -prosecution was to get a verdict against me." - -"I remarked it, I remarked it," said General Tracy; "and, I am sorry -to say, I have seen the same very often in criminal cases. Man is a -beastly animal, my young friend, and the cause of half his brutality -is vanity, it was so here, and is so always. A counsel does not choose -to be beaten; and he moves heaven and earth, not so much to hang the -prisoner, as to triumph over his opponents. But it must all seem very -strange to you now, sitting here quietly in this dining-room, to think -that, only yesterday you were made the sport of circumstances which -held your life continually in the balance." - -"Like a dream," answered Chandos Winslow; "and by no means a pleasant -one." - -"Well, it is happy, at all events, that the dream has ended so well," -rejoined the old officer; "you have come off with flying colours; and -although we are in sad tribulation here just now, from circumstances -which you have no doubt heard of, you must come and dine with me, and -we will have a long chat upon other affairs, which must be spoken of -before we have done. Can you come to-morrow?" - -"I fear not," answered his young companion. "I shall be the greater -part of the day in the city; and have, besides, to consult lawyers -upon matters greatly affecting my interests, although I much fear that -no good will result from our consultations." - -"Don't plunge into law! don't plunge into law!" said the General, -shaking his head ruefully. "I declare, I would rather lose all I -have, than to get into a law-suit about it. The roguery and folly of -the world, are the fields from which lawyers reap their harvests; and -a plentiful crop they get. In England, at least, there is as much -philosophy as charity in that passage of the Bible which says, 'If a -man take your cloak, give him your coat also;' for if you go to law -with him, hang me, if those human sharks, the lawyers, do not contrive -to get your breeches into the bargain. But can you come the day after -to-morrow then?" - -Chandos assented, and, the hour being fixed at half-past seven, took -his leave, and returned to his inn in the city. The chamber assigned -to him was large and gloomy: the wainscoted walls were covered, -besides the paint, with the smoke and dust of half a century; the bed -in the far corner rose tall and ghastly, in curtains of brown moreen; -and the hangings at the windows had acquired a hue which can only be -given by long immersion in a London atmosphere. There was a feeling of -foul misery about the whole, which fell depressing upon the spirit of -Chandos Winslow. It was much more like poverty and wretchedness than -the gardener's cottage at Northferry. He thought of Rose Tracy; he -recalled her father's cold and repulsive manner; he inquired of his -own heart if it were possible to ask her to share poverty with him; to -expose her to all the ills of penury, the daily cares and grinding -inconveniences of narrow means, and to bind down her free spirit, -unaccustomed to a want unsatisfied, a wish unfulfilled, in the hard -chain of straitened circumstances. Chandos Winslow would not answer -the question; but his heart sunk as he propounded it to himself: and -he went to bed weary of the working-day world and the battle of -anxious thought. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII. - - -The next was a busy day with Chandos Winslow. His first occupation was -to sell out a sum sufficient to pay the costs of the late trial, as -far as he was able to calculate them, from the rough data which he had -received. He added thereunto, two hundred and fifty pounds, for his -current expenses; and having arranged that affair, and placed the -money in his banker's hands, he proceeded to seek the friend who had -so ably pleaded his cause. From his house, he was sent to his -chambers; from his chambers, to a court of law, where he found him, -wigged and gowned, in the midst of a long and laborious argument, -which seemed likely never to come to an end. After enduring full two -hours, however, the speech was concluded; and Chandos, sending his -card, obtained a moment's interview with his friend. Sir---- shook him -warmly by the hand, saying rapidly, "Come to me at nine to-night, -Winslow: I cannot stay with you now; for I must hear what the -gentlemen opposite have to say. Don't eat much dinner; for I shall eat -nothing till then." - -"At your own house, or at your chambers?" asked Chandos. - -"At chambers, at chambers," said the barrister, turning to go back -into the court. "I shall not get home till two. Our lives are not easy -ones." - -It was now about four o'clock; and, with feelings difficult to -describe, but to which he was resolved not to yield, Chandos Winslow -proceeded to call upon several of his most intimate acquaintances. It -required an effort to knock at the first door. The feeling of having -stood in the felon's dock, was strong upon him. The uncertainty of the -reception he should meet with; the knowledge that, with a mind which: -has the slightest tincture of vulgarity--that is to say, with nine -hundred and ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine persons -out of every million--an accusation, however false, leaves some stain; -he felt irritable and impatient beforehand, at the idea of being -treated coldly at a moment when he felt that society owed him -something, for having inflicted on him undeserved hardships. - -Luckily he had chosen well in the person whom he had selected for his -first visit. She was the widow of a nobleman who had been -distinguished for many virtues himself; and she was mild, kind, and -charitable, though not without a certain degree of dignified -stateliness, which showed that she felt her high station, without the -slightest touch of pride. She received her young visitor almost as if -nothing had happened. I say, almost, because there was the least -possible difference in the warmth of her reception. It was more -cordial, less tranquil, than it might have been under ordinary -circumstances. She rose from her seat more quickly, held out her hand, -and said, "Oh, Mr. Winslow, is that really you? Well, this is very -kind of you, to call upon me so soon. Now sit down, pray, and tell me -all about yourself, and what you are going to do; how long you are to -be in London, and all." - -Chandos was soon at his ease; and he thought, "With some few friends -such as this, I can afford to set the general world at nought." About -twenty minutes passed very pleasantly; and then he rose to proceed to -another house. His reception there was very different: the whole -family was cold; and he stayed not ten minutes. Then again, at the -next place, he heard the owner of the house, even after he had been -admitted to the drawing-room, tell the servant from a neighbouring -chamber to say that he had made a mistake, and that his master was -out. When the man re-entered to utter the prescribed lie Chandos had -his hat on his head, and was walking towards the door: "You may spare -yourself, my good man," he said, bowing his head haughtily, "I have -heard the whole," and he walked out of the house, never to enter it -again. - -He made one other call. The lady of the house was at home, and -delighted to see him. She talked to him incessantly of his trial, -declared that it was the funniest and most delightful thing that had -ever happened; and invited him to a ball, where all the great people -in London were to be present. - -Chandos had no inclination to be exhibited as a felon-lion; and did -not promise to go. - -At nine o'clock precisely, Chandos was at his friend's chambers, and -found him alone, with a table spread for two, in a little dull room. A -note-book and some stray papers lay on one side of the table; and the -moment after the young gentleman had entered, a servant brought in a -tray, with soup and several other dishes upon it, sent from some -neighbouring hotel. - -"Now, Winslow, sit down," said the barrister, "and we will talk as we -eat; for I can afford but one hour for repose and refreshment -to-day." The servant uncovered the dishes, and instantly disappeared. -The barrister took his place, helped his guest and himself to soup; -and between each spoonful, looked at the papers and notes beside him, -without apology. As soon as the soup was done, he rang a bell, which -was tied by a string to his chair; and while the servant took away the -plates, and handed some cutlets to his master's guest, the great -lawyer rubbed his temple with one finger, in a profound reverie. The -servant then disappeared, without venturing to disturb his master's -meditations by presenting the dish; and the next moment the barrister -roused himself, saying, "Come, Winslow, a glass of wine, and then I -will tell you what you must do. I think you must take a solicitor with -you, and go down very quietly into the neighbourhood of Winslow Abbey. -The first person you had better see is your good friend, Lockwood. Let -him dictate to the solicitor everything he knows regarding certain -papers found by Mr. Roberts, at the Abbey. He will do it willingly -enough, I am sure. Then you must get hold of a young gentleman, whose -relationship to yourself, or connexion with your family, I do not -know; but his name is--let me see--Faber." - -"Oh! poor Faber," said Chandos; "he is a good young man, but weak; and -as to his relationship with me, I believe it is very much the same as -Lockwood's." - -He spoke with a faint smile, and his friend laughed, saying, "Well -then, you must exercise your brotherly influence over him, for the -purpose of inducing him to give a full, true, and particular account -of all he knows concerning these papers, and of a will, made five -years posterior to the one proved, but which has not yet appeared." - -Chandos mused for a moment, and the barrister took another glass of -wine. "I am afraid," said the former, at length, "that Faber will not -be easily induced to speak. He certainly loves me better than he does -my brother. He has been with me more, is kind and well disposed; but -still his is one of those characters on which the stern and determined -work easily, and which may be led to wrong those whom they love best, -for the sake of those whom they fear. I have seen him actually shake -in my brother's presence; and I do not think he dare utter a word -which would offend Sir William Winslow, even if he were at a thousand -miles' distance." - -"If he is only to be moved by sternness and determination, you must be -stern and determined, too," said his friend; "you can be so when you -like, I know, Winslow." - -"But Faber will never believe I shall prove so to him," answered -Chandos: "I may threaten; but he will trust to my regard for him to -render my threats of no avail." - -"At all events, you must try every means to make him speak," rejoined -Sir ----; "for his testimony might be very important. He was present, -it seems, when Mr. Roberts found, in a drawer of the library, a -memorandum, in your father's handwriting, of his having given the -last will, which he made about five years ago, into the keeping of -your brother." - -"Indeed!" said Chandos. "This is new to me. But if we have not the -will itself, I suppose the memorandum will be of little avail." - -"Unsupported, of course, it will be of none at all," replied his -friend; "but I find that when the memorandum was discovered, Faber -showed so much agitation, that those who witnessed it were led to -suspect that he knew more of what had become of the will than he chose -to acknowledge. At all events, you must try every means with him; and -having got all the information you can from those two sources, I would -advise you to cross the country to see Mr. Roberts's executor, and -endeavour to obtain an inspection of his papers. If amongst them there -should be found a copy of a will of that date, though not signed, or a -sketch of one in your father's handwriting, and if you can prove that -the other will has been lately destroyed, I think--mind, I speak -doubtingly--but I think we might do something, by one means or -another." - -"A law-suit with a brother," said Chandos, musing, "based on an -accusation of his having destroyed his father's will, and wronged his -brother! It would be a terrible thing!" - -"It would, indeed!" replied Sir ----; "but my hope is, Chandos, that -we may not be driven to a law-suit, if we can accumulate sufficient -proofs to alarm the opposite party. Take some of that Sillery, and do -not let what I am going to say startle you. Mark me well, however. You -have your brother's life in your hands. As soon as he has time to -think, he will perceive, from the course of defence pursued on your -trial, that such is the case--that a foundation is already laid, -indeed, for building up a truth that would destroy him--that you have -nothing to do but to say in the ear of Justice, 'I would not let my -counsel defend me at the expense of a brother's life,' and to prove -that Lockwood was mistaken for you, in order to render your evidence -conclusive against him. These are terrible weapons, it is true; and I -would not have you use them even in menace, unless it be established -to your full conviction that your brother has destroyed your father's -last will, or has concealed it. Then, I think, you will be justified -in demanding that right be done you, in terms which cannot be -mistaken. But I do not think he has destroyed the will. Men seldom -dare to commit great crimes unless under the influence of hasty -passion--when lesser ones will serve their purpose. I think the will -is concealed; and if we can prove the clauses distinctly, I doubt not, -under all the circumstances, a search will be made for it, and it will -be found. Look here at a train of evidence that would not be pleasant -for your brother to have brought forward in a court, even though you -used no menace in reference to the terrible facts within your own -knowledge. I am already prepared to prove that Mr. Roberts came over -to Northferry to inform you of his having found the memorandum I have -mentioned; that your brother was at Mr. Tracy's house at the time; -that some one, hearing the appearance of a gentleman, entered the -house by the most private entrance, immediately after the murder; that -it was not yourself, Mr. Tracy, or his brother; that the only person -who could be injured by the tale Mr. Roberts had to tell was Sir -William Winslow. Do you not think, Chandos, that he must have a -consciousness that there are a thousand circumstances likely to be -brought out in any trial, which would render the train of evidence -complete against him, and bring the heavy hand of justice on his head, -even if you should remain silent? Depend upon it, if he have not -destroyed the will, he will speedily find it, as soon as you have -collected all the proofs of its having existed, and been in his -possession; and if he have destroyed it, and you can show what were -its provisions, that he will concede them all, rather than incur a -suit which must entail disclosures tending to consequences more fatal. -It is on this account that I advise you to go down at once, while he -is still absent, and collect all the information you can get. But, in -the very first place, you must enter a protest against the sale of -Winslow Abbey." - -"I understood that it was already sold, and the money paid," replied -Chandos. - -"Two-thirds of the money have been paid, I hear," replied the -barrister, "upon an undertaking, under Sir William's hand, to complete -the transfer within a given time. But still the transfer is -incomplete; and you must show, by a caveat, that you are not a -consenting party, so as to guard against even the semblance of laches -on your side. Get your protest drawn up in due form by a solicitor -to-morrow, have it laid before counsel for an opinion, and furnish -both _vendor_ and _emptor_ with a copy; then set out again upon your -voyage of discovery, and let me know the result. Linger not here, fond -youth, by the side of beauty; but away, in search of that which, in -the present day alone, can unchain Andromeda from the rock. Depend -upon it, my dear Winslow, that pretty fable of the lady upon the -sea-shore, and the Gorgon-slaying Perseus, has a very unpoetic -interpretation. Andromeda is the representative of a fashionable young -lady; the rock, the hard state of single blessedness to which her -parents chain her, in default of a suitable match; the sea-monster -destined to devour her, old maidenism; and Perseus, a rich -East-Indian, very bilious, who, with the sword of wealth, slays the -monster, and frees the damsel from her chains, to marry her himself. -And now let us empty that bottle of Sillery, and have another; for -alas! in the life that I lead, I am forced to combat corporal weakness -with that which saps corporal strength; and wine versus weariness is -the cause I am trying every day." - -Chandos Winslow remained till a few minutes after ten, and then -proceeded, not to the inn which he had tenanted the night before, but -to his new abode in Cork Street. What a contrast! Damask curtains, gay -coloured carpets, polished mahogany, shining fire-irons, clean walls, -and a bright fire! But the contrast was not greater than between his -own mood that night and the mood of the night preceding. The words of -his friend had relighted the lamp of Hope, of which the everlasting -fire of Vesta was but a faint image. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX. - - -How many fruitless beatings of the heart there are in the world! -Whether it be from fear, anxiety, agitation, hope, anger, love, -hatred, that beating of the heart is one of the most vain and useless -operations which any part of the human frame performs. The heart of -Chandos Winslow beat very idly at the door of General Tracy's house, -in Green-street. He fancied that in about a minute and a half he would -be in the presence of Rose Tracy, he painted to himself her looks, -he seemed to hear her words; but when he found himself in the -drawing-room, the General was there alone; and the very simple words, -"Bring dinner," which were uttered as soon as he entered, showed him -as plainly as if the General had spoken an oration, that he and his -host were to dine tęte-ŕ-tęte. He felt a good deal disappointed; but -he did not suffer his mortification to appear; and in about ten -minutes he was seated at the hospitable board and partaking of a very -excellent, though plain dinner. The wines were all exceedingly good, -though not very various; and Sherry, of the best vintage, Madeira, -which had twice seen the Cape, with Oporto, which had lived as wine in -part of two centuries, supplied well the place of Champagne, of -Claret, and of Burgundy. - -The General suffered the meal to pass by, and also the two first -glasses of wine after dinner, without touching upon anything which had -a business tone in it. Chandos found that Rose, Emily, and Mr. Tracy -had moved during the preceding day to that gentleman's house, in -Berkeley-square. - -"There is a great deal to be done there," said General Tracy; "and it -is well that they should be on the spot." - -Some short time after dinner, came one of those pauses which are -generally produced by a slight feeling of embarrassment on both parts. -Chandos was not sure whether General Tracy expected him to begin upon -the subject nearest his heart, or not; and the General himself, though -a very brave and determined man in most matters, shrunk a little from -the commencement of a conversation, in the course of which he felt -that pain might be given to one whom he liked and esteemed. - -At length he forced himself to the task; and, after putting over the -decanter to his guest, and rubbing his right temple for a moment, he -said, "Your friend, Sir ----, made an admirable defence for you, -Winslow. I could only have wished that he had omitted a few words -about my pretty niece, Rose. I think it was unnecessary, and not -altogether judicious." - -"Had I possessed any power of stopping him," replied Chandos Winslow; -"those words should never have been spoken, my dear Sir. But I very -well understand the motives on which Sir ---- acted. He only thought -of his client's defence; and judged it was necessary to assign or hint -some reason for not calling Miss Tracy on my part, as it had already -appeared that she was the last person with whom I spoke before the -murder. I am exceedingly grieved, however, that the slightest pain -should have been inflicted upon her for my sake." - -"No, no," said General Tracy; "do not vex yourself about that. I am -not inclined to think that Rose has felt any pain on that account. The -reason why I feel sorry, is, that what he said must force forward -explanations, my young friend, which might have been better delayed. -No one can accuse you, Chandos, of having acted in any way but with -the most perfect delicacy, except, perhaps, in having induced Rose to -conceal from her family your real rank and name, while playing -gardener at Northferry." - -"I trust, General Tracy," replied Chandos, "that you and your brother -are both perfectly well aware, I had no notion whatever, when I came -to Northferry, that my London acquaintance, Miss Tracy, was a daughter -of the master of the house. Had I been informed of the fact, I give -you my word of honour, I should not have played gardener there at all. -When I had once applied for the place, however, if I had not bound her -to secrecy, of course, I must have abandoned my whole scheme." - -"That certainly makes a difference," said General Tracy, with a smile; -"and would make a greater difference still, if there had not been a -little bit of love in the case, my young friend." - -"There was none when I came there," exclaimed Chandos, eagerly; "I had -but seen Miss Tracy once. I admired her, as all who see her must -admire her; but I can assure you there was nothing more: though I do -not mean to deny that longer acquaintance, and the circumstances in -which we have been placed with regard to each other, have changed what -was then mere admiration into the most sincere and devoted -attachment." - -"Well, well," said General Tracy, "we will not dwell upon the past, -Chandos, but rather turn to consider the future. I must enter into -explanations with you, my young friend, painful for me to give, and -which, in their deductions, may be painful, I fear, to you also." - -"Do not tell me not to hope, General Tracy," replied Chandos, in a -gloomy tone; "for that would take all power from the efforts which I -am called upon to make to change a bad situation into a good one." - -"Such is not at all my intention," said the old officer. "But it is -necessary that your position with my sweet niece should be exactly -defined; and as my brother was not willing to enter upon any -explanation, I have taken it upon myself: so listen patiently. You -must have heard, at least, I will take it for granted you are aware, -that grave embarrassments have most suddenly and unexpectedly fallen -upon Rose's father. In short, he has acted like a great fool; and has -only for his excuse, that the madness is epidemic just now. The -Northferry estate was engaged for its full value, or very nearly so, -to meet the first pressing difficulty some time ago. A further debt, -to the amount of more than one hundred thousand pounds remained to be -paid; but to meet that, he had shares which at their then value would -have covered the sum within a few thousand pounds. Some of the shares -fell in value; and I saw that there would be a necessity for my -stepping in to his aid. I exacted from him authority, however, to sell -the whole of the rubbish on which he had been spending his fortune, in -order to realize as much as possible; but when I came to inquire, I -found that the shares were in the hands of a broker; and two days -after I discovered that this broker has absconded, carrying all with -him. A reaction is taking place--several of the lines have risen much -in the market. If my brother had possession of the papers, all could -be cleared in an hour. But the man's retreat is not to be discovered; -and though he cannot sell them himself without great danger, he has -taken no steps as yet to negociate for the restitution of the property -to my brother, as we supposed might be the rascal's course. In the -mean while my brother was arrested and brought to London, where the -action was bailed; but a threat has been held out to make him a -bankrupt as a dealer--a thing most disgraceful to a gentleman. I have -always been anxious to spare my brother Arthur all unnecessary pain on -the subject, and willing to make any personal sacrifices for him; and, -after due consideration, I yesterday made a proposal to the creditors -to the following effect:--To sell my own estate; and, with the -reservation of ten thousand pounds for each of the girls, and ten -thousand more to buy an annuity for my own and my brother's lives, to -make over to them all the proceeds, upon their giving him a release, -and forbearing to strike a docket against him, with a covenant, that -if the papers respecting the shares are ever recovered, the whole -shall be sold to pay off what debt may remain. It is estimated by -competent persons, that what I offer, together with the proceeds of -the sale of his house in town, the books, pictures, &c., will afford a -dividend of about seventy per cent., and I think they will accept it. -My brother will then be saved from the disgrace of a bankruptcy court; -but you will remark that Rose's portion will be but ten thousand -pounds." - -"I think I need hardly tell you, General Tracy," replied Chandos; -"that Miss Tracy's fortune was never for one moment a consideration -with me. Little or great, my attachment is the same, and would remain -so if she had nought but her hand to bestow." - -General Tracy smiled. "You are too impetuous," he said. "I can easily -conceive that her fortune was no _inducement_, young gentleman; but a -matter of consideration it must be both with you and me. Could I -divide all I have at this moment between my two nieces, and give Rose -a portion which would enable you to live at ease, I should have no -hesitation, no care; but such is not the case. She has but a small -dower; you, if I mistake not, have not much more, and the amount that -you could together supply would not be sufficient to maintain you in -the station of life in which you have both been born. You have at -present no profession, Chandos; no means of increasing your income. -You must seek one--you must choose some course which will give a -reasonable hope of securing competence; and then, claim the dear -girl's hand if you will. I am not ambitious for my niece--I seek for -her neither high nor wealthy alliance; but I have lived long enough to -learn that, after health, competence is the best blessing of God. The -days of love in a cottage have long passed by; and as my brother has -fully authorized me to deal with this matter as I think fit, I say -thus shall it be--apply yourself to find some honourable means of -supporting a lady by your own abilities in the station of a lady, and -Rose Tracy's friends will oppose no obstacle; but till then, no sworn -vows or solemn engagements. If you cannot trust to her affection, her -affection is not worth having. If she cannot rely upon your honour, -she is better without yourself." - -Chandos took his hand and pressed it warmly. "So be it," he said; "but -two questions more, General Tracy. What will you think sufficient to -justify us in marrying?" - -"I have thought of no particular income," replied the old officer. "A -pursuit that may lead to one, is the first thing. As to the rest, say -five hundred a year more than you already possess together. Now for -the second question." - -"It is, whether you intend to refuse me her society till such a point -be obtained," was Chandos Winslow's reply. - -"Nay, Heaven forbid!" cried the old officer; "that were to inflict -unnecessary pain, and to take from you the best encouragement to -exertion. No! I trust entirely to your honour, my young friend, that -you do not pursue your suit beyond the bounds agreed upon; and, with -that understanding, when she becomes the inmate of my dwelling, as -will most likely soon be the case, you may see her when you -please--with due moderation, Chandos--with due moderation, remember." - -"You thought that what you had to say would give me pain, my dear -General," answered Chandos; "but it is all I could wish or expect. I -have now an object in life, now a hope to lead me on; and energetic -efforts under such circumstances will not fail of success, I am sure. -I have, however, other tasks before me, which I must execute in the -first place, although I anticipate little success. If therefore, you -have any commands for Northferry, I am ready to perform them, as I -shall be down in that neighbourhood for a fortnight to come." - -"I have none," replied the General. "Northferry and ourselves will -soon, I suppose, have to part for ever; and I should have thought your -connexion with that pleasant place was already severed. Alas! that it -should be so. I have come to that time of life, Chandos, when the -mind's food is memory. Hope is the pabulum of youth, my young friend; -recollection the diet of old age: and we cling to everything that -recalls pleasant memories, as one of your London diner's-out attaches -himself to a giver of good dinners. But what, I wonder, takes you to -Northferry?" - -"A wild goose chase, I believe," answered Chandos; "I would fain -encourage expectation of some good resulting from it; but the hopes -fade away as soon as they are born; and I go more because a good and a -wise friend advises me, than from any conviction on my own part. -Neither do I exactly go to Northferry; but very near it I shall -certainly be, if you have any commands." - -"Few, few," replied the General. "One thing, indeed, you may do, if -you will; namely, bring the little boy, Tim, to London with you. I -must put him to a school in the neighbourhood; for even misfortune -must not make me forget my given word." - -Chandos promised to take all care of the boy; and the conversation -turned to other subjects. - - - - -CHAPTER XL. - - -Four days passed after Chandos Winslow's conference with General Tracy -ere he could quit London. Lawyers are not fond of moving fast. Some -difficulties occurred in drawing up the notice to be served upon Sir -William Winslow and Lord Overton, regarding the sale of Winslow Abbey; -and the whole arrangements were not completed till late on the fourth -night. Chandos consoled himself easily, however; for during those four -days he twice saw Rose Tracy; and he began to comprehend better than -he had ever done before, how Mark Antony had lost a world for -Cleopatra's eyes. At length, however, on the fifth morning, one of -those machines which the Londoners, in their monosyllabic propensity -call a "cab," whirled him and his light portmanteau down to the -railway terminus, and in two minutes after, Chandos was rolling away -upon the rails towards his native place. The morning had been -beautiful, dawning with a brightness and a lustre which do not always -promise well for the risen day; and ere the train had reached the -second station, the sky was covered with gray cloud, and a thin, fine -rain was dewing the whole earth. Thicker and faster it came down as -the traveller proceeded on his way, till at length when he got out, -about sixty miles from town, to perform the rest of his journey by -coach, a perfect deluge was pattering upon the roof of the shed under -which he alighted. He had neither umbrella nor great coat; and he was -glad to find an inside place disengaged, to carry him at least part of -the way warm and dry. - -His companions were an elderly woman, with a large basket, well -furnished with sandwiches, and a wicker bottle full of gin-and-water; -and a tall, stout man, of about forty-five or forty-six, tolerably -well dressed, in a long brown great-coat, and endowed with an -exceedingly yellow complexion. The lady did not seem inclined for much -conversation, but consoled herself from time to time for the evils of -travelling by the sources of comfort which she had provided in her -bottle and basket. The male traveller was somewhat more communicative, -though in a peculiarly short, dry way. He saluted Chandos on his -entering the coach with a "Good morning, Sir;" which act of homeliness -of course bespoke the rude countryman, in a land where every -well-educated man demeans himself towards his neighbour as an enemy, -till something occurs to make them friends. Chandos, on his part, was -not in the slightest degree afraid of having his pocket picked, his -character injured, or his mind contaminated; and therefore he answered -his new companion civilly, and asked if he had come down by the train. - -"Yes, Sir," replied the other; "from a fool's errand." - -"How so?" asked Chandos. - -"Seeking in London what I might have found in the country, and what I -did not find there," rejoined the stranger; "travelling up to look for -that which travelled down with me, without looking for." - -"I never could find out riddles in my life," said Chandos. "How hard -it rains! I did not see you on the train." - -"I saw you," answered the man: "I see everything." - -"Indeed!" replied Chandos Winslow, not particularly well pleased with -his companion: "then you must see a great deal that does not please -you." - -"Not much," said the other: "I am easily pleased. Did you see a green -chariot behind the train, and a gentleman in it, and a vally--an -Italian vagabond?" - -Chandos started, and turned round, saying, "No. Whose carriage was -it?" - -"The master of Elmsly was in it," said the man. - -"Indeed!" said Chandos. And, after a moment's thought, he added, "You -seem to know me, I think." - -"Oh, yes; I know you quite well," replied the stranger. "I was in the -court when you were tried for murder." - -The old lady opposite gave a start, and exclaimed, "Lord a-mercy!" and -Chandos's face flushed, partly in anger, partly in shame. - -"A recollection of such things is not particularly pleasant to me," he -replied, sharply. - -"I don't see why not," answered his fellow-traveller. "You knew you -were innocent, and you proved it to the jury. If it should be -unpleasant to anybody, it is to those who accused you, and to the man -who committed the murder, and would have let you be hanged for it." - -Chandos made no answer, but fell into thought; and full half-an-hour -passed without a word being spoken. At length the young gentleman -inquired, "Are you of the town of S----?" - -"No," answered the other; "I do not live in a town, I live in the -country; but I happened to be there that day by accident, and I went -into the court to see what was going on. It was wonderful hot; but yet -I stayed it out, though I thought I should have been suffocated." - -Another long pause succeeded; the man seemed determined to hunt down a -subject the most disagreeable for Chandos to pursue; and therefore the -young gentleman refrained from all further conversation till the coach -stopped to change horses, near a spot where a road branched off -towards Winslow Abbey. There Chandos alighted, and ordered his -portmanteau to be carried up to a bed-room in the neat little -road-side inn. The old lady and the stout, yellow-faced traveller, -proceeded on their way together; and Chandos ordered some refreshment, -preparatory to a long walk which he contemplated. - -While the mutton-chop was in preparation, and he was taking out some -necessary articles from his portmanteau, the thick veil of clouds -which covered the sky became of a paler grey, and then, towards the -westward, where a wide open country extended before the windows of the -inn, the edge of the vapour drew up like a curtain, showing the yellow -gleam of evening between the woods and hedgerows in the distance. -Before the young traveller's light meal was concluded, the rain had -ceased entirely, and no trace of clouds remained upon the heaven, -except some white feathery streaks of rising vapour, chequering the -fresh deep blue. - -Telling the people of the inn that he might not return till the -following morning, Chandos walked on, taking the narrow lane which led -along the side of the hill towards Winslow Abbey, then at the distance -of about seven miles. The sun was within half an hour of its setting; -but the sweet, long twilight of the late spring evenings was to be -depended upon for many minutes after the star of day was down, and -Chandos did not wish to reach the cottage of Lockwood before it was -dark. He walked therefore calmly and somewhat slowly, now mounting, -now descending, amongst the trees and copses of the hill side, as the -road pursued its varying course. Sometimes the view was shut out by -trees, and nothing was seen but the green branches and the round -silvery trunks of the old beeches, with the rays of the setting sun -stealing in amongst them, and tipping the moss and underwood with -gold; but more frequently he caught sight of the wide extended plains -to the west, lying in definite lines of purple and grey, with the -varied scenery of the hill-slope forming the foreground, the trees of -the old wood tossed here and there amongst the yellow, broken banks, -and every now and then part of the outline of a cottage or small -country-house contrasting its straight forms with the wavey lines of -the landscape, and bringing in images of social life amongst the -wildness of uncultivated nature. - -The sun was more than half down; but a bright spot of gold upon the -edge of the horizon, with one line of dark cloud drawn across it, -still poured forth a flood of splendour, when a little turn of the -road brought Chandos nearly in front of a human habitation. It was a -simple little cottage, of two stories high, with a row of green paling -before it, a little garden in front, and two doors, one in the centre, -and the other at the side leading probably to the kitchen. It was -built upon the extreme verge of the steep bank, so that there seemed -no exit behind; and the road spread out wide before, under a cliffy -piece of the hill, which seemed to have been scooped out by man's -hands, probably for sand or gravel. It was a sequestered little nook; -and, in the green evening light, as it streamed through the trees, -looked as peaceful an abode as a weary heart could well desire. - -The pleasant tranquillity of the scene had apparently attracted -another person, besides the inhabitants of the cottage, to make a -temporary sojourn there; for, underneath the high bank just opposite, -was a stream of silver-gray smoke rising up against the cliff, and -curling in amongst the trees which topped it; and below was seen the -dilapidated tin-kettle from which it proceeded, with an old man -blowing hard into the hole where once a spout had been. A number of -pots and pans lay around, and a wallet was cast upon the ground hard -by. The old man whistled a wild air in time as he blew, and his face -was turned rather towards the house than his work, so that Chandos had -a full view of his features. It required not two looks to bring to his -recollection the travelling tinker, who had conducted him to the -gipsey encampment on his first visit to Northferry. - -Walking up to him with a smile, the young gentleman asked if he -remembered him; and the old man, laughing, winked his eye, answering, -in his peculiar cracked voice, "Aye, do I, master gardener. Do you -want food, and drink, and information to-day, as you did the last time -we met?" - -"Food and drink I can dispense with to-day," replied Chandos; "but a -little information would not be amiss. Can you tell me, my good -friend, where I can find Sally Stanley." - -"I can find her myself," answered the tinker; "that is to say, I could -find her if I could quit this; but I mustn't." - -"Indeed!" said Chandos, in some surprise: "why not? I suppose you will -go before night; for you have not got even a tent here to cover you." - -"That's nothing," answered the gipsey; "I shall be here all night, -unless some one comes to relieve me, as they call it." - -"Why, are you on guard, then?" asked Chandos. - -"I'm on watch, and that is as good," replied the tinker, winking his -eye, and looking towards the house. - -"Who are you watching there, then?" demanded the young gentleman; but -the old man only grinned, and made no reply for a minute or two, till -Chandos repeated his question. - -"Very likely!" said the tinker; "don't you think I'll tell you, -master? I'm watching some one who will not come out in a hurry while I -am here; and when I'm gone, there will be another, and when he's gone, -another, till we starve the rat out of his hole, or at all events find -out if he is in it. But you have nothing to do with that. You are not -one of us, you know. You've your own trade, and that's a gardener's. -Stick to that." - -"I've given that up sometime, as I think you know," answered Chandos. - -"Aye, may be, may be," said the old tinker; "I've heard something of -it. But what is it you want to say to Sally Stanley? Do you want your -new fortune told? She is the rarest hand amongst them for that. Never -was such a one; for she is always right, one way or another: and our -people think she has got a spirit that tells her all that is going to -happen, at those times when she gets into her tantarums and goes about -amongst the dead men's graves and that. I would not bide her curse for -a great deal. It fell hard upon poor Harry Chambers; for you know he -was sent over the water for life, just three months after. But what do -you want with her?" - -"Nay, that is my business," answered Chandos; "only you tell her I am -down here again, and will speak to her when she likes. I have a good -many things to say that she may wish to hear; and she has something to -say to me." - -"But where shall she look for you?" asked the tinker. "Though I dare -say she knows well enough; for she knows everything." - -"It is better to make sure," replied the young gentleman; "so let her -know that I shall be at Lockwood's cottage to-night, and be gone by -day-break. I shall then be at my place at Northferry, for a day or -two, or between that and S----; and then, perhaps, over at Elmsly." - -"I shan't see her to-night," said the tinker; "for she is a good way -off; and Garon comes up when I am to go. After that I'll find her -out.--But look, look--quietly, quietly! Don't you see a man in there, -at the back of the little parlour--a man with a round face and a pair -of green spectacles?" - -"Yes, I do," said Chandos; "now that they have opened that window at -the back to let the light in, I see a man there; but I cannot well see -what he is like." - -"Use your young eyes well," said the tinker; "and tell me if he has -not a round, red face, and a pair of green spectacles on, and a flaxen -wig, and a cravat high up about his chin--why, I can see the -spectacles myself." - -"So do I now," said Chandos. But the next moment the front window was -shut, and all further view into the interior of the room cut off. -Chandos mused. He had more than once, as a native of a well-wooded -country greatly frequented by gipsies, remarked the extraordinary -knowledge which that curious race of wanderers acquire of all that is -passing in their neighbourhood, and had wondered how they arrived at -their information. The uses which they put it to when gained was more -evident; but he knew not till that night, and indeed few do know the -marvellous pains which gipsies often take to find out minute and -apparently insignificant facts, and the no less wonderful skill with -which they combine them when obtained, and draw deductions from them, -generally approaching very close to the truth. Sometimes they have an -object, and sometimes none; for curiosity by habit becomes a passion -with them. But in the present instance there was evidently some end in -view; and Chandos, from various circumstances, felt inclined to -inquire further ere he proceeded. - -Following the same train of combinations which a gipsey would most -likely have followed, suspicions were excited which he longed to turn -into certainties; and after thinking over the matter for a time, he -said, "And so, my good friend, the gentleman with the round, red face -and green spectacles is hidden down here, is he?" - -"I did not say he was hidden," answered the tinker, instantly upon his -guard. - -"You said what amounts to the same thing," replied Chandos; "for you -told me he would not come out as long as you were here." - -"Aye; that may be for fear of having his bones broke," said the other; -"you know, we don't easily forgive them who offend us." - -"Come, come; I am not to be put upon the wrong scent," replied -Chandos. "Sally Stanley told me something of this before; but I did -not think she would have found out his hiding-place so soon." - -"Why, what does she know of it?" asked the tinker, with the most -natural air in the world; "you are out in your guesses, master -gardener. You can't come over an old cove like me. If you know -anything of the gemman, go and ring the bell, and ask if Mr. Wilson's -at home. I dare say he'll see _you_;" and the old man laid a strong -emphasis on the last word. - -"Is it a Mr. Wilson who lives there, then?" asked Chandos. - -The gipsey nodded his head, and Chandos, saying, "It is not a bad -plan," walked straight up to the little gate, and rang the bell. The -gipsey put his tongue in his cheek, and winked his eye; but the next -moment a maidservant came to the door of the house, and, without -approaching the garden-gate, inquired, in a flippant tone, "What do -you want, young man?" - -"Is Mr. Wilson at home?" demanded Chandos, not at all expecting that -the girl would admit the residence of such a person there. To his -surprise, however, she answered, more civilly than at first, "No, Sir; -he's gone to town." - -"But I saw him in that room, a minute or two ago," replied the young -gentleman. - -"Lord, Sir, no," said the maid; "that is his father, the old gentleman -who is ill with a quinsy, and don't see any one. Master has been in -London this week. He'll be down o' Thursday." - -Convinced that his suspicions had led him wrong, Chandos turned away, -and saw the old tinker laughing heartily. It is not pleasant to be -laughed at, as the sapient reader is probably aware. But laughers -sometimes lose; and in this instance the half-crown which had been -destined for the old man remained in Chandos's pocket: not that it was -kept there by any feeling of anger on his part; but because the young -gentleman was not inclined to face the merriment his disappointment -had created, he turned away, and walked straight on in the direction -of Winslow Abbey. - -Night fell when he was at the distance of three miles from the park; -and, hurrying his pace, he soon after stood before the gates of tall, -hammered iron-work, erected more than two centuries before. The great -gates were chained and padlocked; but the lesser one, at the side, was -open, and Chandos entered the park where he had played in boyhood, -with a bitter feeling at his heart, when he thought that all his -efforts might not be able to prevent it passing away from his name and -race for ever. - -He followed the path which he had trod every Sunday during his -mother's life, from the Abbey to the parish church, and back; and at -the distance of about half-a-mile from the gates, he caught sight of -the mansion. There was a single, solitary light in one of the windows, -shining faint, like the last hope in his breast; and as he advanced it -flitted along the whole range, till at length, at the further extreme, -it blazed brighter, as if several candles had been suddenly lighted. -At the same time, turning to the right, the young gentleman took the -path which led away to the house of his half-brother. The park seemed -to him even more melancholy than when last he visited it. It had a -more deserted feeling to his mind. It was to be sold; and yet for all -that he clung to it the more. If it had cost him his right hand, he -would have kept it. As we attach ourselves the more fondly to a friend -in distress, so he held more firmly by the old place he loved, because -those who ought to have loved it likewise, abandoned it. - -"Would that my father had left it to me!" he repeated to himself more -than once. "Had it been nought but the Abbey and the Park, I would -have worked the flesh from my bones to keep it up. But it is -gone--gone! and the hope is vain they hold out to me. I feel it, I -know it!" - -With such melancholy thoughts he walked on, through the chestnut-wood, -all in green leaf, across the ferny savannah, where the deer lay -thick, amongst the old hawthorn trees, loading the air with aromatic -balm. He approached the park wall, and saw, by the clear gray light -sent before the yet invisible moon, the enclosure round the house of -Lockwood, and the house itself--a dark, black mass, upon the silvery -eastern sky. Yet the trees and shrubs in the garden before the windows -caught another ray, and in long beamy lines the misty light poured -forth from the lozenge panes of the casements. Chandos opened the -little garden gate and went in; but as he approached the door, he -heard voices speaking, and even laughter, very dissonant to his ear. -He was in no mood for merry company: there were few people he could -wish to meet, and many he would not meet; and ere he gave any -indication of his presence, he walked along the path before the -windows and looked in, to ascertain who were the guests within. Before -him, with his back to the casement, the neat white dimity curtain of -which was not drawn, appeared the tall, powerful frame of Lockwood -himself, while a bowl of smoking punch stood upon the table before -him, and his hand was stretched out, armed with a curious, -old-fashioned ladle, which he was dipping in the fragrant compound, to -supply the glass which another person opposite was holding out towards -him. In the face of that other person, which was turned towards the -window, Chandos instantly recognized the handsome but too delicate -features of Faber. Lockwood filled the glass to the brim, and then -raised his own, already full, exclaiming so loud that the words were -heard without, "Here's to him, then. Health to our good brother -Chandos: may God grant him his rights, and send confusion to those who -would wrong him!" - -Chandos waited to hear no more, but approaching the door of the house, -was about to ring the bell. A peal of laughter, not from Lockwood's -lips, though with a far more joyous sound than he had ever before -heard those of Faber utter, made the visitor pause for a moment; and -then with a sudden and somewhat impatient movement, he lifted the -latch, and entered unannounced. - - - - -CHAPTER XLI. - - -As Chandos extended one hand to Faber and the other to Lockwood, he -remarked that the cheek of the former was a good deal flushed, and his -eye more bright and sparkling than usual. The bowl of strong punch on -the table was nearly empty, and the deduction was evident. Lockwood's -strong head and strong frame had resisted the effects of his -potations; but Faber, though not at all drunk, was a good deal -excited. - -"Welcome, welcome back!" said Lockwood. "I was just going to write you -a letter, ending after Mrs. Penelope's fashion--'Nil mihi rescribas -attamen ipse veni.' You have come at the very nick of time, Chandos; -for here Mr. Faber has been telling me things which prove that your -father was not so unkindly negligent of you as you have supposed." - -"For that, I am thankful," answered Chandos, "even if no other result -take place. What is it, Faber? Let me hear." - -Lockwood's eyes were fixed upon the countenance of the young man to -whom Mr. Winslow spoke; and he saw the timid, hesitating look, which -was its habitual expression, steal over it again. "Come, Faber, you -and Chandos finish the punch between you," he said; "I have had -enough." - -"And so have I too," answered Faber. But he suffered Lockwood to fill -his glass again, and drank it off at once. The effect was quick. He -reflected, perhaps, that what he had just said he could not unsay; and -at all events, the punch gave him courage to repeat it. The manner was -diffuse and circumlocutory, it is true; and where there was an -opportunity of putting anything in a doubtful manner, by a change in -the mood of the verb, from the direct indicative to the potential, -he never failed to do so; but the substance of the story was as -follows.--"He had seen, read, and copied," he said, "the will, to -which the memorandum found by Mr. Roberts referred. The late Sir Harry -Winslow, who had ordered him to copy it, had kept the transcript; but -he recollected the whole particulars. To himself, an annuity of four -hundred a year had been left, chargeable upon the Winslow Abbey -estate. The whole of that property, with the Abbey and all that it -contained, had been left to Chandos. The Elmsly property had been -assigned to his brother, as well as the whole personal property, with -the exception of four thousand pounds to Lockwood, in lieu of all -other claims, and a few legacies to servants." - -There the young man paused; and Lockwood, after having given him a -little time to proceed, if he pleased, exclaimed, "Go on, Mr. Faber; -you have not half done! Remember about the burning of the will." - -"I did not say he burned the will," cried Faber, turning white; "I -only said he burned a good many papers just after Sir Harry's death. I -saw him, as I was looking out of my window at Elmsly, which is just in -the corner, near the strong-room. What they were, I do not know." - -"Then he burned papers in the strong-room?" said Chandos. - -"Yes, Mr. Winslow," replied Faber, "that he certainly did. Three or -four, I saw him burn, with a great iron chest open before him; he held -them to the candle one after the other, and then threw them down on -the stone floor, and watched them till they went out. But, mind, I do -not know what they were. I never said that any one of them was the -will." - -"Of course, you could not do so, Faber," replied Chandos; "for I know -the position of the two rooms well; and you could not at that distance -see what the papers were." - -"No, I could not see," reiterated Faber. - -"Nevertheless," said Chandos, gravely, "what you did see, and what you -do know, is so important, that I must request to have it in writing." - -"Oh no, indeed, I cannot, Mr. Winslow," said the young man, very pale, -"Why, if Sir William Winslow were to know, what would happen? You will -not ask me, I am sure." - -"Be quite sure, Faber, not only that I will ask; but that I will -insist," answered Chandos, with a frown. "Let me have pen and ink, -Lockwood, and we will have this down at once. My good friend, you have -no choice. You have made a statement this night which you will soon -have to repeat in a court of justice. Now your fault, Faber, is -timidity: that timidity might lead you to gloss over or attempt to -conceal facts in court, which would be speedily wrung from you by -cross-examination, and you would be put to shame, But by insisting -upon your signing the account you have given, I guard you against -yourself; for you will have no motive for hesitation or concealment. -You must there state what you have here stated, without a -consideration of the consequences." - -"I cannot, indeed I cannot," exclaimed Faber, trembling violently. - -"Faber, I insist," replied Chandos; "I did not think that you, whom I -have so often befriended, so often protected, would refuse to do a -simple act of justice in my favour, out of regard for a man -comparatively a stranger to you. Write down his words, Lockwood, as -well as you can recollect them. They shall then be read over to him, -that he may sign them." - -"Oh, Mr. Winslow, I did not think you would do this," cried Faber; -"you know what a terrible man Sir William is." - -"Write, Lockwood, write," cried Chandos, his lip slightly curling with -contempt. But Faber started up from the table, saying in a more -resolute tone than he had hitherto used, "It is of no use, I will not -sign it, I will go." - -Chandos, however, threw himself between him and the door, locked it, -and took out the key. "Your pardon, Mr. Faber," he said; "you do not -go. You stay here, and sign the statement you have just made, or if -you go, you go in custody." - -"In custody?" exclaimed the young man, his eyes staring wildly with -fear. - -"Yes, Sir," answered Chandos; "in custody, on a charge of being -accessory to the destruction of my father's will, which, allow me to -tell you, is a felony. Sir William Winslow may be a very violent man, -but you will find that his brother is a very resolute one." - -"Oh, Mr. Winslow, I am sure you would not do such a thing," cried -Faber. - -"You will see in two minutes," replied Chandos sternly. "When Lockwood -has finished the paper, you shall have your choice. You either sign -it, or he fetches a constable. In the mean while, sit down; for I am -in no humour to be trifled with." - -The young man cast himself on his chair, covering his eyes with his -hand. Lockwood wrote rapidly; and in about ten minutes the short -statement he drew up was finished. He then read it aloud, pausing upon -each sentence; and Chandos, satisfied that it was substantially the -same as the account which Faber had himself given, placed it before -him, saying, "There is pen and ink." - -The young man hesitated for more than a minute; and then Chandos -withdrew the paper from before him, and turned to Lockwood, saying -coldly, "Fetch the constable, Lockwood. I will guard him till you -return." - -"Stop, stop," cried Faber; "I will sign it. Only give me a little -time. You should have put in, that I was accidentally looking out of -my window that night." - -"Put it in yourself above," answered Lockwood, handing him the pen. - -Faber took it, and made the alteration he proposed; then paused and -hesitated again, but in the end wrote his name rapidly at the bottom. - -"And now, Faber," said Chandos, laying his hand kindly on his -shoulder, "you will yourself have more peace of mind. Depend upon it, -the only way to preserve a man's dignity of character, his peace, and -self-respect, is to do what he knows is right, perfectly careless of -consequences. You were aware that I had been wronged. You had the -means of assisting me to regain my right, and that, by only making a -declaration which you were bound in honour and justice to make. You -should, indeed, have made it before; but I forgive your not having -done so, because I know you are afraid of a man whose violence gives -him anything but a claim to respect." - -"Why I should gain more than lose," said the weak young man, bursting -into tears; "if you could prove this other will, I should have two -hundred a year more than by the other; so you must see it was not my -own interest I was consulting, Mr. Winslow." - -"No, you were consulting nothing but your fears, Faber," said Chandos; -"and those fears of Sir William Winslow, depend upon it, are quite -vain and foolish. He has no power over you; he can do nought to injure -you." - -"How I shall ever meet him again, when he comes hack, I know not," -answered Faber, with a melancholy shake of the head. - -"He Is back already," replied Chandos; "at least, I am told so." - -The young man started off his chair at this announcement, actually as -if some one had fired a pistol at him; but while he was gazing in Mr. -Winslow's face with a look of terror almost ludicrous, some one shook -the door of Lockwood's house, and Faber darted away into the inner -room, as if he thought that it could be none other than the man he so -much dreaded. - -"Who is there?" asked Lockwood. - -"It is I, Sir," answered the voice of Garbett, the keeper; and, at a -sign from Chandos, Lockwood opened the door, saying, "What is it, -Garbett?" - -The man started at beholding Chandos Winslow, and exclaimed, "Bless -me, Sir, is that you? Well, Sir, I am glad to see you, now I know who -you are. Why I taught you to shoot when you were a young lad at Eton." - -"I am very glad to see you," answered Chandos; "but you wanted to tell -Lockwood something." - -"Why, Sir, it is a night of surprises," said Garbett: "your brother, -Sir William, arrived at the Abbey about an hour ago. We have been -looking for Mr. Faber everywhere, and can't find him; and so he sent -me down to tell Mr. Lockwood that he wants to see him." - -"If he wants me, he must come down to seek me," said Lockwood, -bluntly. "I want nothing with him; and therefore shall not go near -him. Just tell him what I say, Garbett. He knows me well enough, and -won't expect any civil messages." - -While Lockwood had been giving this answer, Chandos Winslow had -remained with his arms crossed upon his chest, his teeth set fast, and -his lips compressed. There was a great struggle going on in his -breast. The feelings of indignation which had been raised against his -brother were very strong. He did not comprehend that it was vindictive -pride, rather than avarice, which had made Sir William Winslow destroy -his father's will--the desire of triumphing over, and trampling upon, -a brother who had offended him, rather than the love of mere money; he -called the transaction pitiful, as well as base; and when Garbett -entered, Chandos was resolved, without pause, to expose the whole in a -court of justice, at all risks. But, as the man spoke, gentler -emotions arose--feelings strong, though tender. He remembered early -days. He hesitated, though he did not yield. He asked himself, "Is -there not a middle course?" and before the keeper could reply to -Lockwood, he said aloud, "I will go up to him myself;" and he moved -towards the door. - -"Think twice, think twice," said Lockwood, laying his hand upon his -arm. - -"No; I am resolved," said Chandos, in a sad, but determined tone. "We -will meet once more as brothers, before we meet as adversaries. I will -forget for the time there is ought within his bosom but kindred blood, -and a brother's spirit. I will entreat, I will persuade, I will argue, -as a last resource before I am driven to menace and to act. I will try -what reason will do, in order to escape a course, the results of which -I dread to think of." - -"Well," said Lockwood; "well, it is the right way; but he does not -deserve it, and no good will come of it." - -Chandos made no reply, but walked out into the park, and took his way, -with a quick step, towards the Abbey. - -"We had better go after him at once, Garbett," said Lockwood; "there -is no knowing what may follow. They are both sharp spirits; and I -should not wonder if there were blood shed." - -"Lord, Mr. Lockwood, I hope not," cried the keeper; "but let us be -after him, then; for it is as well to be near to part them in case of -need." - -"It might be difficult to part them," answered Lockwood; "but come -along;" and taking up his hat, he accompanied the keeper into the -park, leaving Faber, still trembling with apprehension, in the inner -room of the cottage. - - - - -CHAPTER XLII. - - -In the large drawing-room at Winslow Abbey, with four tallow candles -on the table, to give some light to its great extent, stood Sir -William Winslow, his brow heavy with thought, his cheek pale, and his -eye haggard with anxiety. The gloomy room, the faded hangings of dull -crimson velvet, which seemed to drink in all the rays of light and -give none back again, the many memories with which the place was -stored, the solitary aspect of the nearly deserted mansion, the -melancholy sighing of the wind through its courts and corridors, -tended not to raise the spirit in a heart already depressed by crime. -He had sent his valet to Elmsly, glad to be freed from his oppressive -presence, and had come on alone, full of bitter and even angry -fancies. The worm that never dies was in his heart, the fire that -cannot be quenched consumed his brain. He had given way to an -intemperate burst of passion at not finding Faber there waiting to -receive him, though the young man knew not of his coming; but when he -had sent Garbett out to find Lockwood, and he remained alone in that -wide room, his feelings became more gloomy and less fierce, his heart -sunk, to think of what he was, and of what he might yet become. - -The memories of pleasant childhood, too, of innocence, if not of -peace, (for he had been turbulent from his infancy,) came back in -mournful contrast with the present, when peace and innocence were gone -together, when nought remained but bitter anxiety, and corroding fear, -and dark remorse. It was well nigh despair he felt. - -Yet there was something like a gleam of sunshine upon the long, long -past which made him fix his eyes by preference upon it. He thought of -the young days when he had sported in that room, piled up the chairs -into castles, or built himself houses with the sofa cushions. He saw -his father's stately form stand gazing at him with pride; he beheld -his mother sit and watch him with affection; he knew that both had -looked forward with expectation of high things to his future career; -he asked himself where were these hopes? how were they fulfilled? -Gone, gone, with those days of childhood, with those innocent sports, -with the calm of infancy, with the fleeting ills of boyhood. Gone for -ever--a bar between them and fruition, which no repentance could ever -remove, no reformation ever do away. - -He took a candle from the table, and held it up to the large picture -of his mother, gazing earnestly upon features which had almost faded -from memory. Suddenly his eye fell upon a ticket in the corner, -marked, "Lot 60;" and he exclaimed, "Good God! was I going to sell -that? No, that must not be sold!" And taking the ticket, he tore it -from the frame. - -The next instant there was a timid knock at the door, and he said, in -a milder voice than usual, "Come in." - -It was the keeper Garbett's wife, with something like a letter in her -hand; which, advancing many curtsies, she presented to Sir William. - -"Who was it gave you this?" asked the baronet, taking a curiously -folded piece of vellum from her hand. - -"A strange-looking man, Sir," she said, "gave it in at the door: more -like a corpse than a living man." - -"You may go," said Sir William Winslow, without opening the letter, -which he conceived to be some law paper, connected perhaps with the -relations regarding property between his brother and himself; and when -she was gone he paused a moment, in thought. Whatever were his -meditations, they ended by his exclaiming, "No! Curse me if he shall! -It is unfair and unjust. I am the eldest son; and he had no right to -have it. I will fight it out to the last penny I have." - -As he spoke, he tore open the letter hastily. What was his surprise to -find that the few lines it contained were written in blood-red ink, -and in a fine, clear, steady female hand. He held it to the candle and -read the following words:-- - -"William Winslow, alive or dead, meet me on Thursday at your father's -grave in the churchyard of Elmsly, at midnight. Fail not, or I will -come to fetch you. - - "SUSAN GREY." - -He let the parchment fall from his hand, and gazed at it as it lay -upon the floor with a wild and straining eye. No one had scoffed more -loudly at all superstitions--no one in his life and conduct had shown -a more practical contempt for the very idea of supernatural -visitations. But his nerves were shaken by remorse and apprehension. -Terror and anxiety had enlisted fancy on their side. He knew the -handwriting well; he believed that no one was aware of his return to -England; he thought that the hand which must have traced those lines -had long been consigned to the grave. Hardihood, and firmness, and the -powers of reason, gave way together; and the fierce, firm, proud Sir -William Winslow, trembled in every limb. He called it a fraud--an -absurd, a ludicrous invention, an idle deceit, a scheme only fit to -frighten a child. But yet he gazed upon the parchment, yet his limbs -shook; notwithstanding every effort, yet his heart sunk; and he -thought of the injured and the dead; he thought of his violated -promises, his unfeeling abandonment, his brutal repulse of the prayer -for mercy and support; and he felt, ay, he felt in the heart of the -spirit, that if ever the dead are permitted to revisit earth and warn -those who have wronged them of approaching retribution, his was a case -in which such an awful interruption of the ordinary laws that govern -all things might well take place: in short, that he had called upon -himself a special curse, and might well expect a special punishment. - -Ere he could nerve himself to throw off the first dark impression, the -door opened suddenly; and with a fearful start Sir William Winslow -sank into a chair. The next instant his brother stood before him. - -"What brings you here?" cried the baronet, recovering himself the next -moment; "what brings you to this house? I thought, Sir, we had parted -not to meet again." - -"You were mistaken, Sir William," answered Chandos, shutting the door -behind him. "Events have taken place since we parted which render our -meeting again necessary. When I left you, I told you I would never -enter your house again; but in coming hither I only come to my own." - -"Your own!" exclaimed Sir William; "what do you mean? Have you gone -mad?" - -"Far from it, my brother," answered Chandos, taking a chair and -seating himself before him; "let us not begin, William, with violence -and altercation. What may result from our conversation, God knows; but -let it, at all events, commence with calmness. That I bear you no ill -will, you ought to feel; for when your life was in my power I spared -it: nay, I spare it still." - -"It is false," cried Sir William Winslow; "you have no power over my -life; you never have had. It was your own was in danger." - -Chandos commanded himself: "You are very foolish to believe," he said, -"that deeds such as you have done, can ever be done in perfect -secrecy. Two words spoken by me at _my_ trial for _your_ crime, would -have brought forward such a mass of evidence against you, that by no -subtlety could you have escaped. I saw you strike the blow--ay, and -repeat it, as the old man fell; but my testimony would have been of -little avail, perhaps, unless corroborated. But corroboration was not -wanting. There were other eyes that saw you go down with him; there -were other ears that heard your angry words; there were those too who -saw you return; there were persons who watched your agitation, and -your wild whirling conversation, and drew the right deduction. But, -more than all, in your case there was a motive for the deed, which -explained all, and rendered it more horrible. Shall I tell you what -that motive was?" - -Sir William Winslow sat silent, with his eyes bent down upon the -floor; and after a pause, Chandos went on. "You learned that night, -that your victim had discovered you had burnt your father's will to -wrong your brother; he taxed you with it; and you killed him!--Be -silent!--Do not deny it; but listen to me. I have the proofs, strong -and speaking proofs, of the crime with which he charged you, as well -as of the other. I know every item of the will, each legacy that it -contained; and I know, moreover, what is of greater importance -still--the very moment, and the very place at which you destroyed it. -Shall I tell you where and when? In the strong room at Elmsly, on the -night after my father's death. Alone, and with the door closed, you -thought no eyes saw you; but you were mistaken. Everything that you -did was observed by one competent to bear witness of the facts, and I -now ask you, William Winslow, whether you will drive me to bring -forward that witness in a court of justice? For, of one thing be -perfectly assured, that Winslow Abbey shall not be sold; and that you -shall do me justice, either voluntarily, or by compulsion." - -He spoke slowly; and during the time that he did speak his brother's -hardy and resolute spirit had leisure to recover itself, and prepare -for resistance, - -"You are violent, I see, as ever. But let me inform you that you are -mistaken--mistaken, first, as to your facts, and secondly as to the -person you have to deal with. Do you not know, Sir," he continued, -changing his whole manner, and assuming the stern and overbearing tone -more natural to him: "do you not know that I am not a man to be -bullied or insulted with impunity?" - -"I neither bully nor insult you, Sir William Winslow," replied his -brother; "I tell you plain and undeniable facts. I do so in order that -you may spare yourself and me the pain of forcing me, much against my -will, to compel the concession of my just demands." - -"And pray what are your sweet demands?" asked Sir William Winslow, -with his lip curling. - -"The execution of my father's last will," answered Chandos. "If your -memory fail you as to the particulars, I can refresh it from a paper -in my pocket." - -A momentary shade of hesitation appeared upon the face of Sir William -Winslow; but it passed away again immediately, and he answered boldly, -"The only will, Sir, that your father left has been proved, and is in -course of execution. In that I find no right or title given to you to -interfere with the disposal of Winslow Abbey; and I rather imagine you -will think twice, before you afford the world the disgraceful -spectacle of a younger brother attempting to dispossess the elder of -his patrimonial property." - -"You did not go to Elmsly, I perceive, Sir William," said Chandos, "or -you would have discovered, before now, that such calculations upon my -forbearance are erroneous. When you do go there, you will find a -notice in due form, not to proceed with the pretended sale of that -which is not yours; and probably a letter from Lord Overton, to tell -you that he has received my protest against the whole transaction -between you and him, regarding Winslow Abbey." - -"You have not done it," cried Sir William, starting up. - -"You are mistaken; I have!" replied Chandos, firmly; "I have taken the -first step in a course which I will tread unremittingly to the end--if -I am driven to do so. But I beg of you, I beseech you, to think of the -consequences, and to spare me the pain. Remember, I entreat, what must -be proved in the course of such a suit. I shall have to prove," he -continued, "that poor Roberts discovered in the drawer of the library -here, a memorandum in my father's own handwriting, of having given a -signed copy of the will to you. I shall have to prove, by the same -witnesses, who were present when that memorandum was found, that he -came over in haste to Northferry, to bear me the important -information; and that he was murdered before he reached me. I shall -have to prove that he believed that you had burned the will: perhaps I -shall have to prove, also, that he told you so as you stood together -by the fish-pond at Northferry, the moment before his death." - -His voice sunk almost to a whisper as he spoke; and a livid paleness -spread over Sir William Winslow's face. - -Chandos thought he had produced some effect, and he went on more -eagerly. "Oh, William!" he said, "consider, and do what is right; for -the sake of our father's and our mother's memory; for the sake of the -honour of our name and race--for your own sake, if not for mine, do me -justice. Remember, O remember, that even to save my own life I would -not peril yours; that I abandoned and would not use the plain, -straightforward defence which would have freed me from danger and -anxiety in a moment; that I would not be a witness against a brother; -that I would not bring an accusation against you, even to cast the -burden from myself--an accusation which, once made, would have been -supported by a thousand other facts--by the testimony of her who heard -you speaking with poor Roberts, by the testimony of those who saw you -walking with him, by the evidence of the man who witnessed your return -to the house, by that of your own servants, who must have seen things -which could leave no doubt." - -Sir William sank into his chair again, and grasped the arm tight, but -made no answer. - -"Remember that I forbore," continued Chandos; "and do me simple -justice. But hear why I forbore:--I believed that you struck the fatal -blow under the influence of blind and headlong passion; but I knew -that a jury would not take that into account, when they found the -crime committed tended to cover another crime. I think so still: I do -believe, I do trust that with time for thought, that with any pause -for consideration, you would not deliberately have brought that old -man's gray hair to the dust, even to hide the wrong that you did me." - -"I did you no wrong," muttered Sir William Winslow; "this is my -patrimonial inheritance. You have no right to it." - -"You know at this moment," answered Chandos; "that my father left it -to me, because he was well aware that you do not value it as I do." - -Sir William Winslow set his teeth hard, and said from between them, in -a low, bitter voice, "You shall never possess it!" - -"Is that your last word upon the subject," asked Chandos. - -Sir William Winslow nodded his head, and answered, slowly and -deliberately, "The very last." - -"Then there is no resource," said the young gentleman, in a tone more -of sadness than irritation; and turning to the door he left the room. - -A few steps down the corridor, he found Lockwood and the keeper -standing together, silent; but he was too much agitated by all that -had taken place to think of the motives which brought them there. - -"Come, Lockwood," he said, in a low voice; "it is all in vain. He will -yield to no inducements. Where is Faber?" - -"Down at my house still," answered Lockwood; "he is not likely to come -out, for he is as timid as a hare." - -"He had better not see my brother any more till after the trial," -answered Chandos. "I must go down and speak with him;" and walking -hastily away with Lockwood, he left the Abbey and crossed the park. - -When they entered the little front room in Lockwood's house, they -found everything exactly as they had left it, except, indeed, that the -unsnuffed candles had guttered down nearly into the sockets. When they -came to try the inner door, however, in search of Faber, they found it -locked; and it was only when the young man heard the voices of Chandos -and his half-brother calling to him, that he ventured to speak or come -forth. Even then he was in a terrible state of agitation; and his -first words were, "Oh, Mr. Winslow, I cannot, I dare not go up to the -Abbey, or see your brother." - -"I do not think it necessary or right that you should," replied -Chandos. "You had better come with me to the little village inn, and -go over with me to S---- to-morrow. You can thence write to Sir -William, informing him that you have made up your mind to tell the -whole truth regarding the will." - -"I won't date the letter," said Faber; "and if you stay long at -S----, depend upon it he will come over, and find us out." - -Sad as he was, Chandos could not refrain a smile; but he replied, "Do -not be alarmed, I will take care no harm happens to you. Moreover, I -shall only remain in S---- a few hours with my solicitor. I shall then -either go to Elmsly, to the house of poor Mr. Roberts, as I understand -his cousin, who is his executor, has taken up his abode there for the -time, or shall return to Northferry, as I find advisable. But if I go -to Elmsly, I will not ask you to go with me. Now, Lockwood, I think I -will set out for the inn; but you had better either come over with us -now, or join us early to-morrow morning; for there is much I wish to -say to you, and your presence, too, may be needed at S----." - -"I will come now," said Lockwood; "there is no use of losing time. -_Carpe diem_, master Chandos. Only let me leave my place safe; for -these candles have been dropping perpendiculars too long." - -Thus saying, he bolted the windows in both the rooms, shut and locked -the front door, extinguished the lights, and then led his two guests -out by the back door into the lane which ran under the park wall. - -The walk through the narrow and tortuous roads passed nearly in -silence; for Chandos was sad, as well as thoughtful; and Lockwood, -though somewhat curious to know what had taken place between the -brothers, did not like to inquire, especially in the presence of -Faber. Nor was it a subject on which Chandos could venture to speak. -He saw and knew that Lockwood entertained suspicions in regard to his -brother's share in the death of poor Roberts, which were but too just; -but he could not tell him the words which had passed between himself -and Sir William Winslow, without confirming those suspicions--without -converting them into certainties. He did not choose to do so. He had -resolved indeed to let events take their course; to claim his own -boldly; and if discovery and destruction fell on him who opposed his -right, to let it fall; but not by any spontaneous act of his to move -the tottering rock which hung impending over a brother's head. - -They arrived at the inn; they sat down in a small, neat, cheerful -room; but still they remained silent, till at length Faber rose, -saying he was tired, and would go to bed. As soon as he had retired, -Chandos saw questions hanging upon Lockwood's lips; but he stopped -them at once in his usual bold and decided way. - -"Ask nothing, Lockwood," he said, before the other spoke. "My brother -is resolute: so am I. What passed between us must rest between us. My -plan at present is to go over to S----; and after seeing my solicitor -there, to proceed with him perhaps to Elmsly, where I hope to find -some confirmation of the facts of my case. Indeed there may be, not -unlikely, a draft of the will. You must make a formal statement of all -you know regarding the memorandum; we must induce Faber to do the -same; and when we have collected all the information which is to be -procured, I will lay it before counsel, and proceed as they advise. -Let us now to bed; for I would fain set out to-morrow as soon after -dawn as possible; for this is a business in which no time must be -lost." - - - - -CHAPTER XLIII. - -"Hist! hist!" cried a small voice, as Chandos Winslow was walking -along in the cool of the early morning, with Lockwood on one side and -Faber on the other, towards the nearest place to Winslow Abbey where -post-horses were to be obtained. They were in the wood, clothing the -side of the hill through which he had passed on the preceding evening; -and though the path was wide, and the trees far apart, with no -underwood, he looked about in vain for the body whence the sounds -proceeded. Still, however, the voice cried, "Hist! hist!" and in a -minute after, a boy slid down the boll of one of the large trees, and, -running forward, sprang affectionately into Chandos's arms. - -"Why, Tim, my little man, you here?" cried the young gentleman. "How -came you to be playing truant so far from Northferry?" - -"I am not playing truant," replied the boy. "My mother took me; -because she said that it should be me who served you, and good old -General Tracy. She wants to see you very much; but would not go away. -You will find her on there; but I must go up the tree again to look -out." - -"Is she before the cottage, a quarter of a mile on?" asked Chandos. - -"No, no!" said the boy. "Go forward till you see a straw on the -branches, on the left; then you will come to two others, and then to -three. Whistle where the three straws are, and she'll come. Good bye, -good bye!" and running away again, he climbed up the tree like a -squirrel. - -"He's a nice lad," said Lockwood: "'tis a pity!"--but he left _the -what_ unexplained, and the party walked on, looking carefully on the -left for the signs which the boy had mentioned. The first straw, -however, must have escaped their notice; for they came to the two, -without having perceived it; and the three were found not far on. But -Chandos had no occasion to give the signal; for he had hardly seen the -place, when Sally Stanley was before him. She looked worn and ill; but -her large, dark eyes had lost none of their wild lustre; and she -exclaimed as soon as she beheld him, "Ah! you have come: I knew you -would come. Fate would have it so. And you too, Lockwood: you are a -hard man; but you do not mean ill. But, who is this white-faced thing? -and what is he fit for?" - -She looked full at Faber as she spoke; but Lockwood took upon him to -reply, saying, "Ay, my good girl, I'm not so hard, perhaps, as you -think: you made me savage with your strange ways. After all, you were -right in the main; and if you had not stopped me, I should have spoilt -all: but you should have told me what you were about; for how could I -tell? However, I am sorry for what I said. I did not mean to act so -harshly, and was sorry for it before I had gone half a mile." - -"Enough, enough," answered the woman: "we all do things we are sorry -for;--I have done many. But you should have stayed to listen, and I -would have told you all." - -"You had plenty of time to tell me before that," answered Lockwood, -who did not like any one to have the last word with him. "But we were -both a bit wrong; you for keeping me, when you had no right, without -any explanation; and I for hitting you upon a sore place, without -sufficient cause: so let us forget and forgive." - -"So be it!" answered Sally Stanly. "You have no trust or faith; but -that is your nature." - -"How the devil should I have trust or faith in a set of gipsey -ragamuffins, who take me by the throat, and make a prisoner of me, -without why or wherefore?" exclaimed Lockwood. "I am a plain man, and -will listen to reason, when it is given me; but I don't like force; -and will resist it to my dying day, my lass: so don't meddle with me -any more; or if you do, tell me why." - -"Do not let us lose time in recurring to the past," said Chandos. -"Your son tells me, Sally, that you wish to speak with me; and to say -truth, I wish much to speak with you: but it must be alone. Tell me -now, what you are about here, if it be not a secret; for, to say -truth, I have some suspicions that I--or rather those I love are -interested therein." - -"I am about that, in which you must help," said the woman. "I was sure -you would come; and yet, like a fool, I doubted, and had up our own -people to do the work if you did not arrive. But they are rude hands; -and though we have our own rules, they may be rough with the man. They -will not peach--they will not give him up; but they might break his -bones, or worse. You two shall do it; but you must promise to observe -our laws, and not betray him." - -"I really do not clearly comprehend you," said Chandos. "Before I make -any promise, I must know fully what it implies." - -"Stay, stay: I will go and talk to the men," said Sally Stanley; and -without waiting for reply, she darted in amongst the trees. She was -absent about ten minutes; and from time to time, Chandos could hear -the murmur of speaking voices. Neither he nor his companions uttered a -word; for they had thoughts in plenty; but they did not listen; and -Lockwood whistled a tune in an under tone, as if to pass the time. He -did not know that he was whistling. At length, Sally Stanley returned, -and standing in the midst of the three, she said, "First and foremost, -you must all promise me that this man shall go free, if he does what -is right, and restores what he has taken wrongfully." - -"You speak ever in riddles," replied Chandos. "I know not of whom you -speak." - -"Never mind," answered the woman: "it is a rule with us, not to betray -any one to that which you call justice--which no one should know -better than yourself, is always injustice. You must promise, that -whoever and whatever he is, you will not give him up to the vile -instruments of your bad laws. You may use the threat to frighten him; -but you must do no more. I have a certain power over those who are -round me; for I know more than they do; I see further than they do, -far as they can see. But that power has a boundary, and they will -resist. If you do not promise, and keep your promise, you will repent -it." - -"I always keep my promise, when it is given," answered Chandos; "but I -tell you fairly, that if this man be, as I suspect, the person who has -so basely defrauded Mr. Tracy, he shall not escape out of England -without restoring the property he has attempted to carry off." - -"Then, do your worst," said Sally Stanley, with a laugh; "Go and take -him, if you can! I tell you, Chandos Winslow, that it will require -more skill and power than you possess even to speak with him. One more -such word as you have spoken, and I hold my tongue for ever on the -means of catching him. Do not think that you can deal with me in such -sort. For your sake, and for the sake of the old man who has -befriended my poor boy, I have watched and laboured; but I will not be -made a reproach among the people that are now my people. You must -promise, or I give you no assistance. If I give you no assistance, all -your strength and foolish wisdom are vain. In ten hours from this -moment he will be beyond your reach. The wind is in his ship's sail; -the sea coast is but eight hours distant; and you may fret yourself in -vain, if you lose the present moment for the great object you have -before you." - -"Promise, promise!" said Lockwood. "It is better to have the deer less -the umbles, than by refusing the keeper's fee to lose the buck." - -"I am quite willing to promise," answered Chandos, "that if he -restores Mr. Tracy's property, I will make no attempt to stay him. I -am not a thief-taker; and though I believe it would be but right to -give him up to justice, and to inquire into many of his acts more -strictly; yet, as I owe all knowledge of his abode to you, my good -woman, I am ready so far to abide by your conditions. But still, I -say, if he do not give up Mr. Tracy's property, I will not let him -go." - -"You must bargain with him for that," replied the woman; "he has got -an advantage over a man, who, like all others, has been seeking -advantages over his fellows. There are some advantages within your -law; some beyond it: but, your laws are nothing to us; and he has only -done what many of our own people would do, but in another way. When -cheat robs cheat, it is all fair. This Tracy wanted to gain great -wealth; some one must lose--nay, many must lose--to swell his fortune. -Then comes a bolder rogue, and says, 'What you intended to gain, I -will pocket.' Who can blame the man for being as greedy as his -employer? But all this is foolish babble. If you will promise, you -shall have him in your power in ten minutes; if not, you may follow -your own course." - -"Well, I promise," said Chandos, after some consideration, "only to -use the opportunity you give me to make a bargain with him for the -restoration of the shares. Will that satisfy you?" - -"Yes," replied the woman; "but there are more things to be thought of. -Come hither apart with me." And leading Chandos a few steps into the -wood, she remained for several minutes in eager conversation with him. - -"That is but fair," he said, as they came back; "I will do all that; -but the people must wait for a few days." - -"That they will do readily, on your word," replied Sally Stanley; "now -I will send them away. You three stay here a moment; and mind, do -everything very silently." - -In about five minutes she returned alone, and made a sign to Chandos -to follow, which he did, with Lockwood and Faber, through a narrow -path amongst the trees, only wide enough to admit the passage of one -person at a time. It wound in and out considerably; but the direct -distance from the spot where they held their conference, to the top of -the bank, under which Chandos had found the old tinker on the -preceding night, could not be more than a hundred yards. I have before -mentioned that the top of the bank was thickly covered with trees and -underwood; but when the party reached the top, Chandos could perceive -that the path they were then following took a turn through the bushes, -and then descended in a sidelong manner to the road below. The -cottage, with all the windows still shut, was clearly to be seen -through the branches; and pointing to it with her hand, Sally Stanley -whispered, "You will have to wait a while. Keep quite still and silent -till you see the door opened; then down like lightning, and in." - -"She will shut the door as soon as she sees us," answered Chandos, in -the same tone. - -"I will provide for that," replied the woman; and after cautioning -Lockwood and Faber to be still, she left them on their watch. - -For nearly half-an-hour they remained without seeing any movement of -human life upon the road or in the cottage; and Faber asked Chandos, -in a nervous whisper, if what they were about was legal. The only -reply was an injunction to silence; and the moment after the two upper -windows of the cottage were opened, and then the two lower ones. The -maid next put her head out, and looked round on every side, then drew -it in again, and pulled down the sash. Two or three minutes after a -boy was seen coming along the road, dressed in a blue smock-frock and -leathern leggings, with a white jug full of milk in his hand. For some -moments, so complete was the disguise, that Chandos himself did not -recognise Tim Stanley; but the boy at length gave a glance up towards -the top of the bank, and then approached the little gate of the -cottage garden. He tried it with his hand, apparently to see if it was -open, then put his shoulder to it and pushed it in. The instant he had -done so the door of the house was thrown violently open, and the -woman, rushing out, began to abuse him for breaking the gate, at the -same time snatching the jug of milk out of his hand. Chandos sprang -forward and darted down the bank, followed by Lockwood. Their sudden -apparition instantly changed the tactics of the woman, who ran towards -the house and endeavoured to shut the door; but little Tim was before -her, and setting his back stoutly against it, he resisted all her -efforts. Another force, however, seemed to be suddenly applied from -within; for the door was pushed forward, catching the boy between it -and the wall; and as he resolutely maintained his place, he was in -danger of being seriously injured, when Chandos came up, and by his -superior strength drove it open. - -"Run, run!" cried the woman servant; and as the young gentleman forced -his way into the passage; a man's figure disappeared at the other end. -Pushing the woman aside, he pursued without pause, and found a door -leading out at once to the top of the high and precipitous bank, at -the edge of which the house was situated; and a rapid glance down -showed him a stout figure running along a narrow, ledge-like path on -the face of the cliff. Chandos took a few hurried steps down, fearing -that amongst the trees at the bottom he might still lose the object of -his pursuit; but no sooner did the fugitive reach the comparatively -level ground below, than a tall man, starting out from the bushes, -caught him by the collar, and threw him rudely back upon the ground. - -"Here he is. Come and take him," cried the man, beckoning to Chandos; -and in another minute the young gentleman had his hand upon the -shoulder of Mr. Scriptolemus Bond. Lockwood was also by his side; and -between them, they raised the worthy gentleman from the ground, and -made him walk up the bank again. There is, certainly, something very -ludicrous in fear; and the expression of the rogue's countenance, as -he silently rolled his sharp black eyes from the face of Chandos to -that of Lockwood, had well nigh made the young gentleman laugh, -notwithstanding all the grave thoughts that were in his bosom. - -"Walk in there, Sir," said Chandos, when they reached the door of the -little parlour; and then, turning to the maid who stood crying beside -Faber and little Tim, in the passage, he added, "If you have hurt the -boy by your brutality, my good woman, you shall not go without -punishment." - -"Oh I am not hurt!" cried Tim; "she's not so bad as a bull." - -"Now," said Chandos, entering the parlour, of which Lockwood already -had possession, "I think I have at length the pleasure of seeing Mr. -Scriptolemus Bond, alias Wilson, &c.; and I have to inform him that he -must immediately produce all the scrip, bonds, and papers of all kinds -belonging to Mr. Arthur Tracy." - -"Who are you, Sir?" exclaimed Mr. Scriptolemus Bond, recovering -himself a little. "What authority have you to force your way into my -house? Where is your warrant or your staff? Do you suppose that -without authority I--" - -"You ask for authority, do you, Sir," said Chandos. "By so doing you -will force me to seek it, and convey yourself to prison and to -Van-Diemen's-Land. I was willing to spare you, if you thought fit to -make restitution of that which you have wrongly taken from Mr. Tracy; -but let me tell you that you have no choice but to do so instantly, -and without hesitation, or go before a magistrate on a charge of -robbery." - -"Stay, stay," said Mr. Scriptolemus Bond; "let us talk about the -matter quietly. Perhaps we can arrange it.--Betty, Betty, give me a -glass of brandy." - -"Not a drop," said Chandos, sternly: "the matter needs no arrangement. -You have heard what I demand, and what are my intentions, and you have -but to answer 'Yes,' or 'No,' to this plain question--Will you deliver -up the papers?" - -"But you are so hasty, so hasty," cried Mr. Bond. "For Heaven's sake, -shut the door, and let us speak two words. First of all, I must know -who you are, Sir; for one does not trust papers of consequence to a -stranger. I have been very ill, Sir; or I should have seen Mr. Tracy -before, and given the papers to himself. Very ill, indeed, I have -been, with a nasty affection of the throat." - -"You are likely to be troubled with a still nastier one," said -Lockwood, drily. - -"Mr. Bond," replied Chandos, "none of these evasions will serve your -turn in the least. My name is Winslow, a friend of General Tracy and -his brother. The fact of your having absconded is well known to -everyone: officers are in pursuit of you; you have been publicly -advertised in the newspapers; and I have nothing to do but to take you -before a magistrate, in order to send you to jail. Once more, then, I -ask you, Will you deliver the papers?" - -"I don't see what good it would do me," said Mr. Scriptolemus Bond; "I -must see my way clearly, Sir. Pray, are you one of the Winslows of -Elmsly?" - -Chandos was provoked by the rapid return of his cool impudence; and he -replied, "You shall see your way clearly, but it shall be to prison." - -At the same time he laid his hand upon the worthy gentleman's collar -again, and turning to Lockwood, added, "You can pinion him with my -handkerchief, Lockwood. Then I and Faber can take him over to -S----, while you remain here to see that nothing is abstracted till a -proper search can be made." - -"There, there, you are so very hasty," said the culprit; "now do be a -little reasonable. Can you expect me to give up such sums without some -small consideration for my pains." - -"The consideration which you will get," answered Chandos, "is an -escape from punishment." - -"I must have something more than that," said Mr. Bond. "And now, Sir, -I will tell you in one word how we stand; for you seem to think you -can have it all your own way; but you cannot. You have got the whip -hand of me in one way, and I have got the whip hand of Mr. Tracy in -another. It is very lucky for him that you are not an officer, as I -thought at first; for if you had been, not one shred of all his shares -would he ever have seen in his life. You think it is in this house, or -perhaps in my pocket; but you may search the premises and the pockets -too, and if you find a single share you may eat me. Now, Mr. Winslow, -I tell you there is nobody knows where the whole amount is but myself, -and there it shall lie till it rots, unless I have ten thousand pounds -for giving it up. That is my last word upon the subject." - -"Then perhaps you will have the goodness to walk with me," said -Chandos; "only just a little way, till we can get a post-chaise to -carry you before a magistrate; for ten thousand pounds you certainly -will not have, or anything the least like it. If it had been a fifty -pound note you demanded, just to help you into some foreign country, I -might have given it to you on receiving the shares." - -"But what am I to do when I get to a foreign country?" said Mr. Bond, -coolly. "You forget, my dear Sir, that a man must live. And if I am -not to live comfortably, I might as well go to Van-Diemen's-Land, and -let Mr. Tracy do without his shares." - -"You had better give him something, Mr. Winslow," said Faber; "the -poor devil must have something to start with." - -"Thank you, thank you, Mr. Faber," said Mr. Bond; "that is the right -view of the case. I wonder if you are any relation of Faber, my old -college chum--a wonderfully clever fellow he was." - -Chandos could have knocked him down; but the negotiation was renewed -by Faber and Lockwood; and, after a great deal of haggling and -resistance, the rogue's demand was reduced to the sum of fifty pounds -in hand, and a draft for five hundred pounds at seven days' date, to -be drawn by him and accepted by Chandos on the spot. He moreover -exacted from the young gentleman, acting as agent for Mr. Tracy, a -receipt in full of all demands; and when these points were conceded, -he drew the draft and the receipt with his own hand, and even made an -effort to get them both signed by Chandos, before he produced the -papers. - -Chandos, however, declined; and Lockwood laughed aloud, not without -being joined in his merriment by Mr. Bond himself; for there is a -point of roguery where all shame dies, and a man becomes vain of his -very impudence. - -"Well now, gentlemen," he said, at length, "just have the kindness to -lock the door, that we may not be interrupted, and then we will see -what can be done." - -There was a rosewood table in the middle of the room, with a drawer in -it; and, to the surprise of Chandos, it was to that drawer that the -knave applied a key which he drew from his breeches-pocket. - -"Why, I thought you told me I might search the house for these papers -in vain," said Chandos, indignant at having been cheated. - -"So you might," answered Mr. Bond, coolly, and drew open the drawer, -which presented nothing but a void. - -The next instant, however, Mr. Bond pressed his thumbs tight on the -two sides of the drawer, and with a sudden click the bottom started -up. Removing the thin piece of wood thus displaced, the worthy -gentleman exhibited to the eyes of the bystanders some fifteen or -twenty bundles of papers, neatly tied up and ticketed. - -"Now Sir," he said, "you have got my secret, be so good as to accept -the draft and sign the receipt." He turned towards Chandos as he -spoke; but that gentleman had suddenly seated himself at the other -side of the table, and was leaning his head upon his hand, lost in -thought. The words of Mr. Bond roused him, however, and he replied, -"Not till I am sure, Sir, that all the shares are there. Give them to -Mr. Faber, he will count them, and I will compare the number with the -printed list which I have in my pocket-book." - -This was accordingly done, much to Mr. Bond's mortification; for there -is much reason to believe that it was his intention to lay claim to -some part of the spoil, in order to drive a second bargain at an after -period. But Chandos's precaution, in having cut out of a newspaper a -full description of the shares purloined, frustrated this last -attempt, and all were restored. There still remained in the drawer -three bundles, similar to those which were given up, belonging -probably to some other unfortunate clients of the worthy Scriptolemus -Bond; but with these of course Chandos had no power to meddle, and he -accordingly signed the papers which had been drawn up. - -"Now," cried Mr. Bond, snapping his fingers as soon as he had received -them, "I am a free man. This paper is as good as a passport; and -to-morrow morning I shall be safe in France." - -"I should think, Mr. Bond," said Chandos, with a somewhat contemptuous -smile, "that there are things in that drawer which will yet take the -wind out of your sail." - -"A very pretty figure, but not applicable," replied Mr. Bond. "All the -other gentlemen have trusted to Mr. Tracy's catching me, and so his -passport is, as the French say, _valable_ for the present." - -"I shall take care, at all events," said Chandos, "to make this matter -generally known when I reach London." - -"Now that is not fair, that is not fair," said Mr. Bond. "But I will -be beforehand with you; and, as I think our business is concluded, I -will go and pack up my trunk. Good morning, Mr. Winslow; good morning, -gentlemen all." - -Chandos did not deign to make any reply; but, taking the papers from -Faber, walked out of the house. - -The little boy, Tim, was found in the garden, near the gate, which he -had burst open; for the proximity of Mr. Bond's strapping maidservant -did not seem pleasant to him. - -"Have you got it? have you got it?" cried the boy. And when Chandos, -patting him on the head, answered in the affirmative, he clapped his -little hands with joy, exclaiming, "I will run and tell my mother; she -will be so glad!" - -"I will go with you, Tim," said Chandos; "for she must take you home -to Northferry. All my plans are altered by this morning's work, -Lockwood; and I must speed up to London without delay. I will be down, -however, to-morrow or the day after, for a new light has broken upon -me in an instant, which I think may lead to great results. I wish to -Heaven I could see the memorandum which poor Roberts found." - -"I can show it you, Sir," said Faber; "for by his direction I took a -copy of it, and have got it in my pocket-book." - -It was produced in a moment, and, still standing in the open space -before the cottage, Chandos read it attentively. - -"Were these initials at the end copied accurately?" he said, turning -to Faber, and pointing to some capital letters written under his -father's name. - -"Yes, Mr. Winslow," answered Faber; "as far as I could make them out, -they stood just so, in two lines. No. 2, I.S. B.E. No. 3, P.D.". - -"Then there is still a chance," said Chandos. "But come, I will away -to London, and take advice upon these points also." - -His companions could not at all make out what he meant; but the new -light which he said he had got, greatly accelerated all Chandos's -movements. With a quick step he led the way to the copse where he had -left the gipsey woman; and having given little Tim into her charge, he -explained to her all that had occurred; but in terms so brief that -none but one of her rapid intelligence could have comprehended what he -meant. Then promising to see her again soon, he hurried away towards -the high-road to London, accompanied as before by Faber and Lockwood. -As they approached the little inn where Chandos had stopped on the -preceding day, but before they could see the road, the sound of -rolling wheels was heard; and with an impatient exclamation he said, -"There is the coach gone!" - -But he was mistaken, for it still wanted a quarter of an hour of the -time at which the stage appeared. Faber would fain have gone with him -to London; but Chandos begged him to go over to Northferry, and wait -for him, saying, "Sir William will not come there, you may be very -sure." - -In a few minutes after, the coach rolled up, the portmanteau was put -in the boot, Chandos sprang upon the top, and after a short delay, -away the vehicle rolled towards the great city. - -"He's in a vast hurry," said Lockwood; "what can have struck him?" - -"I don't know, I am sure," replied Faber; and they turned away. - - - - -CHAPTER XLIV. - - -It was about half-past four in the afternoon, when a common -street-cabriolet drove up to a house in Berkeley Square, in the -windows of which were exhibited large bills, stating that the lease -and furniture would be sold by auction, on a certain day, then not far -distant. Chandos Winslow sprang out of the vehicle, and knocked at the -door, which was opened almost immediately by a coarse-looking woman, -with her arms bare, and a wet cloth in her hand. In answer to the -young gentleman's inquiry for Mr. Tracy, the charwoman replied, that -he was not there; adding that he had left the house the day before -with his family, but that she did not know where he was gone. The next -drive of the cabriolet was to Green Street; but there Chandos paid the -driver before he got out. He then knocked at General Tracy's door, and -the face of his old servant, who soon appeared, showed him at once, -that no favourable change had taken place in the circumstances of the -family. - -"My master and Mr. Tracy are both out, Sir," he said, even before he -was asked; "but Miss Rose is in the drawing-room." - -"Are they all well?" asked Chandos. - -"Pretty well; but very sad," replied the man. "Miss Emily, indeed, is -not very well; and has not been out of her room to-day." - -"I hope I bring them all good news," replied Chandos, willing to -lighten the grief even of an attached dependent. "I will, therefore, -make bold, to go up at once, my good friend, without being announced:" -and walking rapidly up the stairs, he opened the drawing-room door. - -Rose was seated at a table, writing; for she had not heard the sound -of a footfall on the well-carpeted stairs: but, the moment Chandos -entered the room, she looked up; and though there were still tears in -her eyes, a low exclamation of pleasure broke from her lips, when she -saw him. - -"Oh, Chandos!" she said, "I was writing to you, by my uncle's -permission; for we thought you had left town yesterday--indeed, the -people at the hotel said so." - -"I did, dearest Rose," he answered; "but I have come back to-day on -business of importance." - -"I am exceedingly glad of it," replied Rose, as Chandos seated himself -beside her; "not alone because I am glad to see you; but because you -can answer in person the questions which I was going to put;--and yet -I do not know how I can put them, now you are here." - -"What!--between you and me, dear Rose?" said Chandos. "Can you have -any hesitation in asking Chandos Winslow anything? Tell me frankly, my -beloved what it is you wish to know; and I will answer at once." - -"Why, the fact is this," said Rose, looking down at the letter she had -been writing, till the rich beautiful hair fell over her fair face, -"the creditors have, this morning, returned an unfavourable answer. -They will not consent to my uncle's proposal. They will not permit the -reservation of ten thousand pounds from the sale of his estate for -Emily, and the same for myself; though they do not object to the sum -appropriated to purchase an annuity for my uncle and papa. Emily at -once begged that she might not be considered for a moment; and so did -I: but my uncle said, that, in my case, he was not a free agent; for -that he had promised that sum of ten thousand pounds to you: and that -he could not even propose to withdraw from his word. I took upon me, -Chandos, to answer for you; but he said that the proposal must come -from yourself, if at all, when you knew the whole circumstances; and I -had even a difficulty in gaining permission to write to you, though -everything must be decided by half-past twelve the day after -to-morrow. Was I wrong, Chandos, in what I said on your behalf?" - -"No, dearest Rose, you were not wrong," answered Chandos; and then -kissing her fair hand, he gazed with a look of mingled gaiety and -tenderness in her face; adding, "and yet, my Rose, I do not think I -shall consent after all." - -"Not consent!" she exclaimed; and then, shaking her head, as she saw -the bright look with which he regarded her, she said, "Nay, I know you -better: you are jesting, Chandos." - -"No, my Rose," he answered, "I am not jesting. But I will not tease -you with suspense: what I mean, my love, is, that I do not think there -will be any need of my consent; for I trust the clouds are passing -away, and that your father's fortunes may be re-established, without -the noble sacrifice your uncle proposes to make." - -"The change must be soon, Chandos," said Rose, sadly; "for these -people have announced their intention of making him a bankrupt the day -after to-morrow, if their demands are not complied with." - -"The change has taken place, dear Rose," replied Chandos; "and I thank -God that I have been made the instrument of bringing good news and -comfort to you all. It is this which has brought me so suddenly back -to town. But, hark! that is the General's knock, or I am mistaken." - -"My father is with him," said Rose; "but tell me, dear Chandos, tell -me the news. Let me be the first to give it him." - -"It is that I have recovered all the property carried off by that -villain, Bond," answered Chandos Winslow. "I have the whole of the -shares with me now." - -Rose clasped her hands in joy, and at the same moment the door opened, -and the dejected face of Mr. Tracy appeared. He gazed for an instant -sternly at the laughing countenance of his daughter, and then made a -movement as if to quit the room; but Rose sprang up and cast her arms -round him--whispered some words in his ear, and then, in the excess of -her joy, burst into tears. - -"What? what?" cried Mr. Tracy. "I did not hear. What does she say? -What does she mean?" and he turned towards Chandos with an eager and -impatient look, while the foot of General Tracy was heard ascending -the stairs. - -"She has good news to give you, my dear Sir," replied Chandos; "the -best that you have received for some time; but I really must not take -it from her lips. Be calm, be calm, dear Rose, and tell your father." - -"Oh he has got them all!" cried Rose, still weeping; "all the -shares--all that the wretched man carried off." - -"You, you, Chandos?" cried Mr. Tracy. - -"Got them all!" exclaimed General Tracy, pushing past his brother. - -"All," replied Chandos; "at least all that were advertised. They are -here, my dear Sir. I never was so loaded with riches before;" and he -produced the various packets from his pockets. - -Mr. Tracy sat quietly down on the sofa, in profound silence; he did -not touch the papers; he did not even look at them. His emotions were -too strong, too overpowering; and he remained with his eyes bent upon -the floor, till Rose sat down beside him, and took his hand in hers, -when he threw his arms round her, and kissed her tenderly, whispering, -"Go and tell our dear Emily, my child." - -General Tracy in the meantime ran hastily over the shares, comparing -them with a memorandum in his pocket-book. Then laid them down upon -the table; and marching across to Chandos, shook both his hands -heartily, but without a word. Chandos understood him, however, and it -was enough. The next minute the old officer rang the bell; and on the -servant appearing, said in a quiet tone, "Bring me the paper out of my -room, Joseph." - -As soon as he had got it, he set to work, with pencil in hand, upon -the prices of the share market; and after a rapid calculation, looked -with a triumphant smile to his brother, saying, "Twenty-three thousand -pounds to spare, Arthur. Tomorrow, please God, they all go, for I -shall never have peace till the cursed trash is out of the house. Now, -Chandos, my dear boy, let us hear no more--." - -But before Mr. Winslow could answer, Emily Tracy followed Rose into -the room, and cast herself into her father's arms. Her next movement -was to hold out her hand to Chandos, saying, "Oh, thank you, thank -you! You have saved us from horrors. But how has it been done?" - -"Why I have now my confession to make," answered Chandos; "and if I -had been politic, I should have done it while the first pleasant -surprise was upon you all; for I have taken upon me, Mr. Tracy, to act -for you very boldly." - -"Whatever you have promised, I will perform," answered Mr. Tracy, "and -that with deep and heartfelt thanks; for you have saved me from -disgrace which I could never have survived." - -"If it be for twenty thousand pounds, it shall be paid gladly," said -the General. - -"Nay, it is not so bad as that," replied Chandos; "the worse part of -my case, my dear Sir, is, that, unauthorised, I have taken upon me to -act as your agent, and in that quality to give the man a general -release. As to the money, there was not any great difficulty, for I -gave the scoundrel fifty pounds in hand to help him to France, and -accepted his bill at seven days for the rest, to close the whole -transaction at once; as at all events if I acted wrong, I could but be -the loser of the sum. He demanded ten thousand pounds--." - -"Well, let him have it," said General Tracy. - -"No," answered Chandos, "I would not let him have it; but I engaged -myself for five hundred; and it is for you to judge whether I acted -right in so doing, knowing, as I did, that in this case time was of -the greatest importance." - -"You acted admirably," said Mr. Tracy; "and I have to thank you for -your decision, as well as for your prudent management." - -"If it had been in my hands, I fear I should have given him whatever -he asked," said the old officer; "for the fearful idea of my brother -being made a bankrupt--a bankrupt, Chandos, like a mere trader--would -have swallowed up all cool prudence. But now tell us all about the -how, the when, and the where you found this pitiful knave." - -"Do you know, General," replied Chandos, "I fear I must leave that -part of the tale untold for to-night. I have some matters of much -moment on which I wish to have the best legal advice I can get; and I -must seek it instantly. If I can obtain the opinion and directions I -want to-night, I shall leave town early to-morrow. If not, I shall -come in during the morning, and will tell you all." - -"But do give me a hint, however slight," said Mr. Tracy; "it seems to -me like a happy dream; and I fear I shall wake and find it unreal, -unless I have some confirmation." - -"All I can stop to say," replied Chandos, "is, that your little -protégé, General, the gipsey boy, acted a great part in the adventure; -and gallantly did he perform it, I assure you, at the hazard of life -and limb." - -"I will make a soldier of him," answered the old officer; "I will buy -him a commission. But there has been danger then, in this affair." - -"Oh no!" replied Chandos; "only danger to the poor boy. But now I will -bid you adieu. Farewell, dear Rose. The greatest happiness I have ever -known in life, has been to bring you news which took a heavy load from -your kind warm heart." - -Chandos Winslow shook hands with the rest of the party, and was then -leaving the room, when the General exclaimed, "Chandos, Chandos!" and -followed him to the top of the stairs. - -"My dear friend," said the officer, "you have done us the greatest -service that man could render us; but, in so doing, you have removed -obstacles to your own happiness. Rose and Emily, are, of course, my -heiresses. I do not see why they should not have now the greater part -of their future fortunes: for I have no expenses; and now, with -changed circumstances, it would not, of course, be so imprudent to -marry, as it appeared some days ago. Poor Emily is sad; for she has -heard from your brother, announcing his return to England; and -claiming the completion of her engagement with him. I must take it in -hand myself, I see; for I will not have the dear girl's happiness -thrown away. Now, however, farewell: for I see you are in haste; but -come in, whenever you return from your journey; and remember, that the -causes which induced me to exact a promise of you, to refrain from -pressing Rose to a speedy union have been removed. Only one word more; -and that on business. Are you at the same hotel where you were the -other day?" - -"Yes," replied Chandos; "I left my baggage there as I came." - -"Well then, I will send a cheque for the five hundred pounds there, -this evening," said the General. - -"Perhaps, it would be better," answered Chandos, "if you would have -the kindness to pay it into my account at Curtis's; as it is very -possible, that I may not be home till very late to-night. Any time -within a week will do." - -"It shall be done to-morrow," replied the old officer; and they -parted: Chandos to seek his friend, Sir----, through courts and -chambers; and the General, to rejoice with his brother on a -deliverance from that which had seemed an inevitable disgrace not -half-an-hour before. General Tracy was a good, kind man; but, like -everybody else in the world who fancies he has no prejudices, he had -several; and those he had were strong. He looked upon it undoubtedly -as a disgrace not to pay a just debt under any circumstances; but the -sting of the calamity which had menaced his brother, was to him that -he might be "made a bankrupt like a mere trader." There was the rub -with General Tracy. If none but "gentlemen and soldiers" could be made -bankrupts, he would not have felt it half as much, though he would -have deplored it still. But to be put in the _Gazette_ like a ruined -pork-butcher, that was terrible indeed! How strange it is, that in -estimating disgraces, we never look to the act, but to the -consequences! - - - - -CHAPTER XLV. - - -The ground-floor of Sir William Winslow's house at Elmsly, contained -as splendid a suite of rooms as any in England; and nothing that taste -could do to give grace to the decorations, or that skill could effect -to afford that comfort of which we are so fond, had been neglected by -the last possessor, during a period of three years before his death. -Sir William Winslow, however, was in some sort a stranger to the -house, which was now his own: for, during several years, great -coldness had subsisted between himself and his father. He had spent -much of his time on the Continent; and had not, in fact, been at -Elmsly for two years, when he was summoned thither in haste, a few -hours before Sir Harry's death. The interview between himself and his -brother Chandos at Winslow Abbey took place on the Tuesday; and on the -Thursday following, about nine o'clock at night, he was seated in the -large dining-room of the magnificent suite I have mentioned, with the -clergyman of the parish opposite to him. - -The table, looking like a little island, in the ocean of Turkey carpet -which flowed around, was covered with the desert, and with sundry -decanters of choice wines; and two servants handed the plates of fruit -and preserves to their master, and their master's guest. When this -ceremony had been performed, the attendants left the room; and a -desultory conversation, mingled with wine took place between Sir -William and the clergyman. The latter was a stout, portly man, with a -good deal of the animal in his original composition; but rigidly and -pertinaciously kept down by a strong moral sense, and high religious -feelings. The motives which had produced so speedy an invitation on -the part of Sir William Winslow were various: but one was, that Sir -William did not like to be left alone. His own thoughts were -unpleasant companions. Again, he was anxious to retrieve some part of -the good opinions he had lost. He felt that he had undervalued -character; and, of late, things had appeared important to him, which -he had looked upon with contempt before. Amongst others, some sort of -religious opinions began to be objects of desire. He did not much care -what, for his notions on the subject were very indefinite; but he felt -a want, a craving for something that could give him the support which -he possessed not in his own heart--for something that would afford him -hope, when there was nought within him but despair. He had heard--he -knew, indeed--that the Christian religion promised pardon for -offences, hope to the sinner, peace to the repentant. And he sent to -the clergyman to seek a certain portion of religion, just as a thirsty -labourer would send to a public-house for a jug of beer. - -The conversation, as I have said, was of a desultory kind: the subject -of religion was approached in a timid, uncertain sort of way by Sir -William Winslow; more as an opening than anything else: and the -clergyman answered in a few brief, but very striking words; which -produced a deep effect. He treated the matter less doctrinally than -philosophically, and in such a manner, that Sir William Winslow was -inclined to fancy what he said had a personal application to himself; -although the good man had no such intention. - -"It is beautifully and happily ordained," said the clergyman, in -answer to something which had preceded, "that the commission of crime, -and the reproaches of conscience, very frequently, by the desolation -which they produce in worldly things, should awaken in us the -conviction of another state; give us a sense of our immortality; and -teach the man who has only known himself as a mere animal, that he -possesses a spirit, to be lost or saved, to live for ever to -punishment or felicity. That conviction once gained, and the question -naturally follows: 'What can I do to be saved?' The Word of God -replies 'Repent'; and repentance to salvation is not unfrequently the -consequence." - -Sir William Winslow mused; but after a time he replied, in a -discursive manner, "It is a curious consideration what this same -spirit can be. I doubt not its existence; for I feel a moving power -within me, apart from, and independent of, mere _will_. But what is -it? I see it not. No one has ever seen it." - -"Hold, hold," cried the clergyman; "you must not say that. The records -of Scripture bear witness, that spirits have been seen; and it can be -shown philosophically, that there is no reason for supposing such a -thing impossible." - -The worthy pastor had been set upon a subject which was a favourite -one with him, and he went on, citing history after history, and -instance after instance, to prove that, under certain circumstances, -there were means of communication established between the dead and the -living. He even went so far as to argue that it would be absurd to -suppose it otherwise; that granting that there is such a thing as -spirit, and that spirit is immortal, all analogy would show that there -must be a power in the disembodied of producing certain influences -upon their brethren in the flesh. "You cannot point out any order of -beings," he said, "from the most imperfect to the most perfect, which -has not some knowledge and communication with those next to it in the -great scale of animated nature." - -Sir William Winslow listened, but replied not, keeping his teeth tight -shut, and his lips compressed; and the clergyman proceeded in the same -strain, till the clock struck ten, when he suddenly rose to depart. - -His host would willingly have detained him a little longer; for, as I -have said, he loved not to be alone; but he was too haughty to press -it beyond one request; and the clergyman, who was a man of habits, -always retired at ten. - -When he was gone Sir William walked into the drawing-room and ordered -coffee. He took it very strong, and that agitated rather than calmed -his nerves. He walked up and down for half-an-hour, and then he said -to himself, "I will go and look over those letters. There is no use in -going to bed, I should not sleep." He then ordered candles in the -library; but he would not go thither till they were lighted. When that -was done he walked slowly in, and took up some of the unopened letters -with which the table was strewed. The second which he broke was signed -"Overton;" and after having run his eye down the page, he threw it -away with a look of anger. He would read no more, and sitting down in -the large arm chair, where so often his father had sat, he gnawed his -lip, with his eyes bent upon the ground. - -The clock struck eleven, and Sir William started in his seat and -counted it. A minute or two after, he took out his pocket-book, and -drew from it a folded piece of vellum. He did not then look at the -contents, however, but thrust it into a drawer of the table. Then, -rising from his seat, he walked to the window and looked out. It was a -beautiful moonlight night, the soft, silvery rays resting on the lawns -and woods of the park, and the little stars, faint and sleepy in the -sky. He gazed for several minutes; but I know not whether he beheld -anything but the objects of his own fancy. Then he walked up and down -the room again, and twice stood for a moment or two opposite the -drawer in the library table. At length he suddenly pulled it open, -took out the vellum, unfolded it, and read the strange contents. - -"By--," he exclaimed, after thinking for a moment, "this is devilish -strange! it is the very day she drowned herself!" and the vellum -trembled in his hand. "I won't go. Why should I go?" - -He looked at the writing again: "She will come and fetch me!" he -repeated, with his lip curling; "I should like to see her;" and the -proud spirit seemed to rise up again in full force. But then he shook -his head sadly, and murmured, "Poor girl! she told me once before she -would come, and she did--to her own destruction." - -The clock struck the half hour, and in great agitation--agitation -scarcely sane--Sir William Winslow walked up and down the room again, -with a wild, irregular step, his eyes rolling in his head, as if he -saw some strange sight, and his hand frequently carried to his brow, -and pressed tight upon his forehead. - -At the end of about ten minutes, he stopped, gazed vacantly upon the -floor, and then, with a sudden start, exclaimed aloud, "I will go to -her! She shall not say that I feared her. She shall not come here--no, -no--yet I believe, alive or dead, she would do it, if she said it.--It -is her hand too. That name, how often have I seen it with different -feelings! Poor Susan!" and walking out of the library, and through the -corridor, he took his hat and quitted the house. - -The moon lighted him on his way through the park. He could see every -pebble in the ground; but yet his step was as irregular as if the way -had been rough and rude. Nevertheless he went very quick; he seemed -impatient; and when he found the park-gates shut, he did not wait to -awaken the people of the lodge, but cut across to a stile which went -over the paling; and there he issued forth into the road. About two -hundred yards before him rose the church, with its good broad -cemetery, encircled by a low wall. The moon shone full on the white -building, rising like a spectre amongst the dark trees and fields -around. - -Sir William Winslow stopped suddenly, crossed his arms upon his chest, -and thought. Then the heavy bell of the church clock began to strike -the hour of midnight; and walking rapidly on he reached the gate of -the churchyard, while the sound of the last stroke still swung -trembling in the air. He passed through the little turnstile, and -walked up the path. There was a new tombstone close upon the right, -which he had never seen before; and his eyes fixed upon it. The -letters of the inscription were all plain in the moonlight, and the -name "Roberts" stared him in the face, with these words following, -"Brutally murdered, by some person unknown, on the fifth of February, -one thousand eight hundred and forty-five, in the sixtieth year of his -age." - -Sir William Winslow trembled violently, and murmured, "Who has done -this? Who has done this?" - -His courage had well nigh deserted him entirely; and he paused, hardly -able to go on, when a voice from the farther side of the cemetery -asked, "Are you come?" - -He knew the tongue, though it had sounded sweeter in other days; and -striding forward, he answered, "I am here! Where are you?" - -"Here," answered the voice from the direction of a tall mausoleum, -over the mouth of the Winslow vault: "Come on!" - -He advanced, but could perceive no one. He walked round the monument; -the space was quite clear around. "Where are you? What would you with -me?" he cried. - -"I am where I have a right to be," answered the voice from a spot -apparently below his feet. "I am amongst those from whom sprang a man -who promised to make me one of them, and broke his promise. I am -amongst your dead, William Winslow! Your father is on my right hand, -and your mother on my left. Your place is here beside me, and will not -be long vacant, if your spirit does not bow itself to repentance, your -strong will does not yield to right." - -"God of Heaven!" he cried, laying his hand upon the gate in the iron -railing which surrounded the tomb, and shaking it violently; but -instantly there was a low laugh, and a voice said, "Poor fool!--You -ask," continued the voice, "what I would with you? For myself, I seek -nothing. You can neither harm nor benefit me more. The time is past. -The hour is gone by; and what you could once have done, is now beyond -your power. But for our boy, you can do much; you can atone to the -mother, by love to the child. Take him to yourself; own him as yours; -and oh! above all things, teach him to avoid and to abhor such crimes -as you yourself have committed." - -"Our boy!" cried Sir William Winslow, "I knew not that you had one, -Susan. Oh, Susan, in mercy, in pity, tell me where he is?" - -"Ask your brother," answered the voice; "ask that kind, noble brother, -whom you have wronged, who has been a father to your child, when you -were depriving himself of his inheritance; who has taught him virtue, -and honour, and the love of God. He will give him to your arms, if you -show yourself worthy of him. Thus much for myself, William Winslow; -but, oh that there were any power in prayers, to make you grant that -which is needful for another." - -"Speak, speak!" said he eagerly; "I will grant whatever you ask. I -wronged you basely, I know; I broke my plighted word; I forfeited my -honour given. Speak, Susan! Let me make atonement, as far as it can -now be made." - -"The other for whom I prayed is yourself," answered the voice. "Oh, -William Winslow, beware. The cup is well nigh full. You cannot wake -the dead; but you can do justice to the living. Bend your knees to -God, and implore mercy; humble your heart even before men, and do not -persist in evil. Restore what you have wrongly taken, and all may go -well; but hear the last words that ever you will hear on earth, from -her you wronged on earth: If you persist in the evil you can by a word -redress, the crime that you think is buried for ever in darkness, will -rise up into light by the consequences of your own acts. Such is -judgment--such is retribution--such is the will of God. Amen." - -"But of what particular wrong do you speak?" asked Sir William -Winslow. - -There was no answer, and he exclaimed, "Speak, Susan! speak!" - -All was silent, and again and again he endeavoured to obtain a reply, -but in vain. - -At length, moving slowly away, he passed round the other side of the -church, to avoid the grave of the steward, and soon reached the park. -He hurried homeward; but he entered not his own house so speedily. For -two long hours he walked backwards and forwards upon the terrace, with -his head bent down and his eyes fixed upon the sand. Who shall -undertake to detail the terrible turns of the struggle then within -him. It was a battle between the whole host of darkness and the -cherubim of the Lord. Fear, and Doubt, and Pride, and Vanity, and all -their tribes were arrayed against the small, bright legion which had -gained one small spot of vantage ground in his heart. Doubt and Fear -he knew must remain for ever on this side of the grave, to hold that -part of the castle to which he had given them admittance; but their -very presence there made him anxious to exclude them from the rest; -and he repeated a thousand times in spirit, "Would to God I had not -burned that will! Would to God that aught would afford me a fair -excuse for acting as it dictated! What can I do? Where can I turn? -Heaven send me, light and help!" - -Still the internal strife lasted long; and when at length he -re-entered the house, body and mind felt worn and exhausted. His valet -gazed at him with one of his quiet, serpent looks, and said, "You seem -ill, Sir. Had you not better have some cordial?" - -"No, no," answered Sir William Winslow, turning from him with a faint -shudder; "I want nothing but rest. It matters not." - -But that night he did not lie down to rest without bending the knee, -and imploring mercy and protection. It was the first time for many -years. It was the first night, too, that he had slept for more than an -hour at a time for several months; but now he remained in slumber -undisturbed till ten o'clock, and when he woke he felt the effect of -repose. He rose, threw on his dressing-gown, and approached the glass -on his dressing-table. He hardly knew the face that it reflected. He -did not feel ill. Sleep had refreshed him; his limbs were strong and -vigorous, but all colour had fled from his cheek. He was thenceforth -as pale as the dead. - -He then went to the window for air, and the first thing his eye -lighted upon was his valet, advanced a step or two on the terrace, -talking to a tall, stout man, of a very sallow complexion, in a long, -brown great coat. Sir William Winslow's heart sunk, he knew not why. -He did not like to see that Italian talking with any one since he had -mentioned the spots of blood upon his coat; and he gazed for a moment -at the servant as he stood with his back towards him, with feelings of -pain and alarm. Suddenly a change came over him. He raised his head -high, and his proud nostril expanded. "It matters not," he said to -himself; "I will be no man's slave long. I will do Chandos justice--I -will provide for my poor boy--see him--embrace him--and then that -scoundrel shall go forth to do his worst." - -With these thoughts he rang his bell sharply, and soon after descended -to breakfast. His meal was speedily concluded; and going into the -library, he wrote for some time. One paper which he covered seemed to -be a mere note; but for the other he consulted several times a law -book, which he took down out of the library. - -When that was done, he rang again, and ordered the servant who -appeared to send the butler, the bailiff, and the housekeeper to him, -all together. Before they could be collected he had folded the note -and addressed it to "Chandos Winslow, Esq.," and when the three -persons he had sent for appeared, with some surprise at their unusual -summons, he said, I wish you to witness my signature of this paper. -Then taking the pen, he wrote his name at the bottom, saying, "This is -my last will and testament." The witnesses put their hands to the -paper and withdrew, each observing how ill their master looked, and -arguing by the sudden signature of his will that he felt more unwell -than he appeared. - -The event became a matter of gossip in the housekeeper's room, and the -Italian valet rubbed his forehead and looked thoughtful; but he had -not much time for consideration before he was called to carry a -note, which had just arrived, to Sir William, who had gone to his -dressing-room previous to going out. The man looked at it somewhat -wistfully as he took it up; but he dared not finger the envelope, and -it was delivered without the contents having escaped by the way. - -"Countermand my horse," said his master; "I will write an answer -directly. Some one is waiting, of course." - -"Yes, Sir William," replied the valet, and his master walked out at -once, and descended to the library. There, he again spread out the -letter before him, and read to the following effect:-- - - - "The Golden Bull, Elmsly, - - "May, 1845. - -"Sir,--I am directed by my client, Chandos Winslow, Esq., to inform -you, that from documents lately in the possession of Mr. Roberts, -deceased, and from private marks thereon, in the handwriting of the -late Sir Harry Winslow, of the true intent and meaning of which -private marks the said Chandos Winslow is cognizant, he has reason to -believe, that an authentic copy of the last will and testament of the -aforesaid Sir Harry Winslow, Bart., signed with his name, and dated, -'25th June, 1840,' is still to be found in a certain depository, at -Elmsly House; hitherto unsearched by you: and, in consequence, I beg, -in his name, to request that you will cause search to be made in the -said place or depository, with all convenient speed, in the presence -of myself, his attorney, or any other person or persons whom he may -select: or otherwise, that you will sanction and permit the said -search to be made by the said Chandos Winslow, Esq., or myself, as his -attorney, in presence of yourself, or any other person or persons by -yourself selected, as witnesses that the search or examination is well -and properly made, without fraud or favour, by, SIR, - - "Your most obedient Servant, - - "HENRY MILES, - - "Attorney-at-Law and Solicitor to the firm of - Miles, Furlong, and Miles, S----." - -"P. S. Sir, I am directed by my client to inform you, that he has no -desire to be present in person at the proposed search, as he judges -that, under circumstances, his visit to Elmsly might not be -agreeable." - - -When he had read, Sir William Winslow held the letter up with a -trembling hand, and there was evidently a renewed struggle in his -bosom. But his eye rested on the note he had written to Chandos; and -perhaps, he compared the feelings with which he had spontaneously -addressed his brother, with those which were now excited by irritated -pride, at what he conceived an attempt to drive him to that which he -had been willing to do undriven. At all events, he smiled--very -likely, at the first discovery of the secret springs of his own -actions; and sitting down again--for he had risen for a moment--he -wrote the following words:-- - - -"Sir William Winslow presents his compliments to Mr. Miles, and begs -to inform him that he is perfectly at liberty to make the proposed -search at Elmsly. Sir William, however, would prefer that it should be -made in the presence of his brother, Mr. Chandos Winslow, whom he will -be happy to see at Elmsly, as soon as possible, for that purpose. He -sincerely hopes that the will maybe found, as it may save some -trouble; but, at the same time, he begs Mr. Miles to forward, or -present the inclosed note (written some hours ago) to Mr. Winslow, -begging him to understand that Sir William adheres to the contents, -irrespective of the result of the search now demanded. - - "Elmsly, &c." - - -The note was immediately despatched, and the master of the house -leaned his head upon his hand in deep thought. He was disturbed by the -entrance of the valet, who advanced with a low and humble bow, saying, -"Could I speak with you for a moment, Sir?" - -"No," replied the baronet, sternly; "I am engaged." - -"But, Sir William," said the man. - -"Leave the room, Sir!" thundered his master; "did you not hear me?" - -The man obeyed; but as he quitted the library, he muttered, "Oh! very -well." - -Sir William Winslow felt he had gained something during the last few -hours. It was courage of a peculiar sort. The day before he would not -have found resolution so to answer a man, who, to a certain degree, -had his life and honour in his hands. Now he had no hesitation; and as -he sat and thought, he asked himself if it was the having taken the -first step towards atonement which had restored to him his long-lost -firmness. He thought it was; and he resolved to go on boldly. Perhaps -he mistook the cause of the change in himself. His was one of those -quick and irritable dispositions which cannot bear suspense of any -kind, which will rather confront the utmost peril than wait an hour in -fear; and the very fact of having taken a strong resolution gave the -power to execute it. But still he fancied that the purpose of doing -right, of making atonement, was the result of his renewed vigour; and -the mistake was salutary. - -In the meantime, the man whom he had dismissed from his presence so -abruptly went out to one of the several backdoors of the house, and -looked about, casting his eyes over the wood, which there came near -the house. For a minute or two he seemed to be looking for something -and not discovering it; but then, he beckoned with his finger, and a -dark man, in a long great-coat, came across from under the trees and -joined him. - -They spoke in low tones, but eagerly, for about five minutes; and at -last the dark man said, "No; we had better work separate. I will -manage it, you'll see; and you can do the same if you do but frighten -him enough. I must speak with the woman first; but I'll be back in an -hour, if you think he'll be alone then." - -"I dare say he will," answered the valet, "there are not many people -come here now; but if there should be any one, you can wait about till -they are gone." - -"Very well," replied the other; and with a nod and a low laugh, he -turned away, and left the Italian standing at the door. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVI. - - -Chandos Winslow sat in the little village inn at Elmsly, with his keen -old solicitor from S----; who had, as the reader has seen, just -mingled in a note to Sir William Winslow, a certain degree of -lawyer-like formality, with an affection of commonplace ease, which he -thought was masterly in its kind. They were awaiting the reply; and -the lawyer calculated upon either one or two courses being adopted by -the baronet to meet the pungent contents of his missive. "Sir -William," he said, addressing Chandos, "will, I imagine, either beg to -know where the will is supposed to be concealed, promising to cause -search to be made himself; or else he will roughly refer us to his -solicitors in London. Mark my words, if he does not. At all events, -that last hit of our's yesterday--coming in, and finding the rough -draught of the will in Roberts's handwriting, amongst the papers in -the cabinet left to you with the other things--was capital. Hang me, -Mr. Winslow, if I did not think for a minute that it was the will -itself. However, as it is, we shall have an excellent case of it; and -I should not wonder if it were to go through every court in England, -up to the House of Lords." - -"A pleasant prospect," said Chandos, drily; and he fell into the -silence of expectation. - -"Is Mr. Chandos Winslow here?" asked a good, clear, round voice, upon -the stairs about five minutes after; and starting up, Chandos opened -the door, when, to his surprise, he beheld Lockwood with the little -boy, Tim Stanley. - -"Well, I hope I've got him here in time," said Lockwood, "though I -could not get over by noon, as you wished; for you see, Chandos, it is -a good long round first to Northferry and then to Elmsly; and I did -not receive the message till five this morning." - -Chandos gazed on him in surprise, but shook him warmly, by the hand, -and caressed the boy, saying, at the same time, "I am glad to see you -both, Lockwood; but I certainly had no notion you were coming." - -"Didn't you send?" exclaimed Lockwood. "Then who the devil did, I -wonder? I had a message this morning shouted in at my window, at five, -to bring the boy over here by noon to-day to meet you. But now we must -have some dinner; for I am hungry enough, and the boy is ravenous. -What have you done with Faber? Where's Atra Cura, if he is no longer -behind the horseman?" - -"We left him at S----," replied Chandos; "he was afraid to come within -ten miles of Elmsly." - -"He's a poor creature," cried Lockwood, "a very poor creature indeed. -There is something in such weakness that debases prosperity, and makes -even misfortune contemptible; though it is often an element of -grandeur, as Seneca justly says: 'Nihil ćque magnam apud nos -admirationem occupet, quam homo fortiter miser.'" - -"He's a little chicken-hearted," said the lawyer; "but he's very right -to keep out of harm's way when he is not paid for going into it. And -now, Mr. Winslow, I had better ring for something to eat for the nice -little fellow--a son of yours, I presume--we can take a bit of lunch -at the same time. It is an agreeable way of occupying time." - -The luncheon was ordered; and though Chandos denied the degree of -relationship to little Tim imputed, the lawyer remained in the same -opinion. It did not at all spoil Tim's appetite, however. He was not -at all aware that he had ever had a father, and would quite as soon -have had Chandos in that capacity as any one else. He set to heartily -then; and so did Lockwood, and eke the lawyer; but before the latter -had eaten two mouthfuls, the messenger who had been sent to Elmsly -returned with a letter for him. - -"Soon decided!" said Mr. Miles; "he has not taken long to consider." -And after opening the cover containing the epistle addressed to -himself, he held the one enclosed in his hand, without looking at the -direction, while he read the other. - -"Well, this takes me by surprise!" said the lawyer; "remorse of -conscience, evidently! Read that, Mr. Winslow; the other is for you -too." - -Chandos took the letters, and read first, with much wonder, the one -which had been opened; and then broke the seal of the other, which -contained these words:-- - - -"Come to me, Chandos. Let us forget the past, and be really brothers -for the future. If you can show me, as I think you hinted, the -particulars of the last will, it shall be acted upon by me as if it -were before me. If not, I will put it in force as far as I recollect -it; for I certainly did read it once; but that is a long time ago, and -I do not perfectly remember it. At all events, come to me; for there -is a sort of heavy presentiment upon me, that my life will not last -long; and I would fain die in friendship with my brother. - - "Yours, - "WILLIAM WINSLOW." - - -"It must be so, indeed!" said Chandos Winslow; "this change is too -great, too sudden to be in the ordinary course of events. Some severe -illness must be hanging over him. Come, Mr. Miles, let us go at once, -Lockwood will stay with the boy till we return." - -"Nay, I will go with you part of the way, at least," said Lockwood; -"and you shall tell me what is the drift of all this as you go; for I -am in darkness. Tim can take care of himself; can't you, Tim?" - -Chandos threw Lockwood his brother's two letters; and, while he read -them over in silence, little Tim declared he could take care of -himself very well. Lockwood, however, took his hat and accompanied his -half-brother and the lawyer on their way, sometimes asking a question, -sometimes falling into a fit of thought. - -"I'll tell you what, Chandos," he said at length, "I cannot help -thinking there is some trick in all this. I never saw such a sudden -change. Why it is only three nights ago that he growled at you like a -dog." - -"No, no, there is no trick," replied Mr. Winslow; "but I fear there is -some serious illness, either commenced or approaching, which has thus -depressed his spirits, and given conscience power to make her voice -heard in the stillness of the passions." - -"Well, I am not quite satisfied of that," answered Lockwood, "and -shall be glad to hear the result; but I will not go in with you. We -were never friends, and the sight of me might raise the devil again. I -shall look out for you, however, as you come back." - -"I will lead you the shortest way," said Chandos, speaking to the -lawyer, who was approaching the great gates; "that path takes one half -a mile round;" and proceeding along the road, he did not enter the -park till he reached a small doorway, which stood open during the day. - -The path with which this doorway communicated, led through the depth -of a splendid wood of Spanish chestnuts, divided by somewhat formal -alleys, which crossed each other in various directions. When Chandos -and his companions had walked on not more than two hundred yards, they -could hear the voices of two persons speaking vehemently, and at the -first traversing alley which they came to, they all turned their heads -to the right, whence the sounds proceeded. Perhaps eighty or ninety -yards from them, under the green shade of the wide leafy trees, were -standing a man and a woman. The man Chandos immediately recognized as -his companion in the stage-coach some days before, and in the woman, -whose face was turned towards them, he saw Sally Stanley. She was -throwing about her arms in wild and even fierce gesticulation, and in -the stillness of their footfalls over the turf, he could hear her -exclaim, "If you do, a curse will cleave to you and destroy you, which -never failed yet--a curse which will,"--but then her eyes lighted on -the three persons who were passing, and she darted in amongst the -trees. - -The man followed her, after taking a look round; and Lockwood asked, -"Do you know who those are?" - -"Tim's mother," answered Chandos; "and one of her tribe, I suppose." - -"One of the gipsies, if you mean that," replied Lockwood; "and the -worst fellow amongst them. If I catch him, I will break every bone in -his skin. He gave me a blow when I had my hands tied, and I will not -forget him. But as to Sally Stanley being one of the gipsies, Chandos, -that is a mistake." - -"Then my suspicions are correct;" said Mr. Winslow, with an inquiring -look at the other's face. "How was she saved from the river?" - -"That I don't know," replied Lockwood; "the gipsies pulled her out, I -suppose. But I thought you must have known all about it, from your -fondness for the boy. If you come to calculate, you will see whose son -he must be." - -"How strange are the turns of fate!" said Chandos; and the whole party -fell into deep thought. - -Two or three minutes after, Lockwood halted, saying, "I will go out -into the open part of the park, and wait for you under a tree; for I -am anxious to have the first news:" and Chandos and the lawyer walked -on to the house, which was not more than a quarter of a mile in -advance. When they were gone, Lockwood sauntered up and down for about -ten minutes--perhaps it might be a little more; for he was a man -accustomed to solitude and his own thoughts; so that lonely time flew -fast with him. At length, however, he thought he heard a light step -running; and the next moment Sally Stanley was by his side. Her face -was eager, and her eyes sparkling, but not with joy. - -"Lockwood," she said, in a low tone, "Lockwood, run up to the village; -to the inn." - -"Has anything happened to the boy?" cried Lockwood, with a look of -apprehension. - -"No, no!" answered the woman; "but run up--find out what the two men -are doing over here--the two men from S----. Listen to what they say-- -and save him if they are seeking him." - -Her meaning was not very clear; but there was so much apprehension and -impatience in her look, that Lockwood, saying, "Well, well, I suppose -I shall find out what you mean when I get there," turned away and left -her. - -His long legs and his quick steps soon brought him to the door of the -Golden Bull, at Elmsly; but all seemed quiet on the outside of the -house, at least. There was a little sort of gig, with the horse taken -out, standing in the road, and no other thing to attract attention. -Lockwood entered the house, and was about to walk up to the room where -the boy had been left, when in what was called the parlour, on the -left, he heard some men's voices speaking; and in he went. - -The room contained two men and a servant girl, putting down some beer -and glasses before them; and Lockwood sat down and asked for a glass -of ale. Two or three sentences passed between the previous occupants -of the room, which seemed principally to refer to their own dinner; -but there were words mingled with their discourse which made the last -comer lend an attentive ear; and before the ale was brought to him, he -rose, walked slowly out of the room with a careless air, hurried up -stairs, and spoke a few eager words to the boy Tim. - -He was answered only by a look of quick intelligence; and after -receiving a few words of clear direction as to the way to Elmsly -House, Tim snatched up his cap and ran off. - -Lockwood then descended to the parlour again, drunk his ale, and took -up an old newspaper that lay on one of the tables. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVII. - - -We must now turn to Sir William Winslow again. He remained for full a -quarter of an hour in thought; but then he rose, and walked backwards -and forwards in the library, with a quick step: there was a struggle -within him. While he had remained seated, old feelings, old habits of -thought, old vices of the mind began to return upon him. None of the -devils which torture and tempt humanity ever give up their prey -without strife; and they wrestled with his spirit still; but remorse, -and wearing, constant apprehension had shaken their hold of him, and -he was strong enough to cast them off. There came too, in aid of -better feelings that longing for companionship, for the support of -love or friendship, which grows upon the heart when worldly enjoyments -fail. He thought, what a pity it was that he and Chandos had not lived -together in affection; he knew that it was his own fault, and he -resolved it should be his own fault no longer. Yet he doubted -himself--yet he feared; and at length, after he had walked up and down -at the same hurried pace for full three-quarters of an hour, he -started with a feeling almost of irritation, when the servant opened -the door, and announced that Mr. Winslow and another gentleman were in -the drawing-room. - -"Show them in," said Sir William Winslow, and he stood leaning on the -library table, watching the door. - -The expression of his brother's countenance at once did away all that -was painful in his feelings. It was full of kindness and tenderness, -and advancing with a quick step, Chandos took Sir William's proffered -hand in both his own, and pressed it warmly. - -"This is very kind of you, William," he said. "But, good God! how ill -you look! In Heaven's name send for some physician." - -"No, no, Chandos," said Sir William Winslow; "there is no need. I have -gone through much mental pain since I saw you--but of that no more: -let us for the future be brothers indeed--but now to business: you may -search where you please for the will you mention; and I trust in God -you may find it." - -"No, William," said Chandos, frankly. "I will tell you where I think -it is. Search for it yourself; I trust you fully." - -Mr. Miles pulled him by the sleeve, saying, "But my dear Sir, my dear -Sir--" - -"Hush," said Chandos, sternly.--"I think, William," he continued, -"from a memorandum I have found, that the will is in the drawer of -that table; and I and my solicitor will quit the room, if you please, -while you search." - -"Not for the world," replied Sir William Winslow. "But you are -mistaken, Chandos; the will is not there, as you may see;" and he drew -out the drawer with a sharp pull. There appeared nothing but a small -piece of vellum, folded like a letter, and the lawyer immediately -exclaimed, "There it is!" - -"No, Sir, it is not," answered Sir William Winslow, sharply; "that is -a letter addressed to me, nothing more." - -Chandos smiled, saying, "That is only a part of the contents of the -drawer. Press your thumb tightly on the right side at the back, -William. The memorandum is marked with the initials, S. D. E. which I -interpret 'Secret Drawer, Elmsly.' Now, I know of no secret drawer but -the one in that table, which I have once or twice seen my father -open." - -Sir William instantly pressed on the inside, as he was directed, but -without effect; and he turned towards the bell, saying, "I will have -it broken open; for I feel it yield under my hand." - -"Stay, stay," said Chandos, "let me try;" and coming round to that -side of the table, he put his hand into the drawer, and pressed hard. -At the first touch the piece of wood which formed the false back flew -out, and an inner drawer was pushed forward by a spring from behind. -It contained a considerable number of papers, and a small basket full -of gold coin. At the top of the papers, however, was a packet, sealed -with black, and marked, in a lawyer's hand, "Last will and testament -of Sir Harry Graves Winslow, Bart." Underneath was written, in Sir -Harry's own handwriting, "For Chandos Winslow, Esq. To be opened -before the funeral." - -Chandos did not touch the will; but Sir William took it out and put it -into his hands, saying, "Stay! We had better have more witnesses -before you open it;" and ringing the bell, he ordered the butler to be -sent. - -"My brother, Mr. Winslow," he said, when the man appeared, "has -pointed out to me this secret drawer, which I had not before -discovered; and in it we have found this paper, which seems to be a -later will of my father's than that already read. I wish you to be -present while it is examined. Now, Chandos, let us hear the contents." - -Chandos opened it, and placed the paper which he found within the -cover in the hands of Mr. Miles, who, with spectacles on nose, -proceeded to read it aloud, having first ascertained that it was duly -signed and attested. - -The purport of the will was precisely that which Faber had stated. -Winslow Abbey, and the estates attached, with all the furniture, -books, and pictures in the house, were left to Chandos Winslow; but -the property was charged with an annuity of four hundred a year to -Faber. A few legacies were given to servants. Five thousand pounds, in -lieu of all other demands, was assigned to Lockwood; and all other -property, real and personal, including a large sum in public -securities, of the existence of which Sir William had been hitherto -ignorant, was left to the deceased baronet's eldest son. The clergyman -of the village, and a gentleman in London, were named as executors, -together with Mr. Roberts, whom Sir Harry probably expected to act for -all. - -When the will had been read, Sir William took his brother's hand, and -pressed it in his own; and nodding his head to the butler, he said, -"You may go. Now, my good Sir," he continued, turning to Mr. Miles, -"the best thing you can do is to take that paper down to the gentleman -there named, in the village of Elmsly; tell him how we found it, and -ask him if he is prepared to act. In fact, take all the necessary -steps for substituting this will for the other. I shall of course -consent to all that is required. There may be some difficulty indeed -as to the Abbey property, in regard to which I have acted rashly; but -that I must settle as I can. My brother will join you in a little, at -the inn. At present I wish to speak to him for a few minutes." - -He spoke in somewhat of his old imperious tone; and the little lawyer -took the hint, and departed rapidly. - -"And now, Chandos," said Sir William Winslow, in a voice that trembled -with emotion, "tell me one thing. Have you not a boy under your -charge, a boy of about seven or eight years old?" - -"I have, William," answered Chandos, with a faint smile; "and as fine -and brave a boy he is as ever lived." - -"Is he not my son?" demanded Sir William Winslow, in a low tone. - -"I have every reason to think he is," answered Chandos. - -"Where is he? where is he?" exclaimed his brother. "I must see him, -Chandos; I must have him here." - -"That you can have in half-an-hour," answered Chandos: "I left him at -the village inn." - -"Oh, send him to me!" cried Sir William: "I knew not she had had a -child. Yet, stay one moment; promise me, Chandos, as a man of honour, -if anything befalls to take me hence, that you will be a father to my -boy." - -"Be you sure I will, William," answered Chandos Winslow. "Is there -anything more?" - -"Yes, one thing more," replied his brother, taking up the paper he had -written in the morning; "I have there put down my wishes--informally -perhaps--in the shape of a will. I have named you my executor; and I -am sure that, whether the will be valid or not, you will carry it -out." - -"Upon my honour," answered Chandos Winslow, "if you have left the boy -your whole property, it shall be his." - -"No, I have not done that," said Sir William; "I have not wronged you, -Chandos, in this at least: and now send me my boy as soon as may be; -but come yourself afterwards. Take the will with you. No one can tell -what may happen from hour to hour in this life." - -"That is true, William;" answered Chandos; "but yet I trust there is -no such imminent danger, though it is evident you are far from well. -If you would see a physician, you would really greatly oblige me; but -I will speak with you more on that subject, when I return, which shall -be ere long." - -The moment his brother was gone, Sir William Winslow rang the bell, -and sent for his valet. The man entered with a peculiarly placable and -even smiling look; a visitation with which his countenance was seldom -troubled. But it was soon changed into one of dark malevolence; for -the first words of his master were:--"I sent for you, Benini, to tell -you that I shall have no further need of your services after the end -of a month. You have warning to that effect. You may go." - -"Very well, Sir William," replied the man; "but it might be better for -you to think." - -"I have thought," answered Sir William, sternly; "you may retire, I -say." - -The man bowed, and left the room; and Sir Winslow murmured, "That is -done--I will not live in fear. Death is better." - -"There is a man at the hall-door wishes to speak with you, Sir;" said -a footman, entering. - -"I am busy," said his master; "I cannot be disturbed--Who is he?" - -"I do not know, Sir," answered the servant; "a tall, strong man, well -dressed enough; but with a face like a gipsey, or a mulatto--he said -he must and would see you, as he had business of importance to speak -about." - -"Well, if he must and will see me, send him in," said the baronet; "I -think I will soon dispatch his business." - -The man retired, and soon returned with the same personage whom -Chandos had seen speaking with her whom we have called hitherto Sally -Stanley, in the park. - -"What do you want with me?" asked Sir William Winslow, fiercely. - -His visitor paused till the door was shut, and then replied, in a -rude, familiar tone, "I want a little money, Sir William; that's the -truth. But if I get money, I can give money's worth." - -Sir William Winslow's heart sunk. "Indeed!" he said; "pray, what can -you give?" - -"Silence," answered the man. - -"Silence!" repeated the baronet in a low voice; "silence about what?" - -"I will tell you a little story, Sir," was the answer; "I am a poor -man, who get my living how I can. On the fifth of last February, I was -in the grounds of Northferry-house, from a little before five till an -hour or two after. Now, I want a thousand pounds. When I have got it, -I will go abroad and join some of my own people in another country." - -Sir William Winslow had fallen into a deep fit of thought, and his -lips were very white. Though conscience had cowed him, at first, even -with the valet; yet, on further consideration, his courage had -revived; and he had argued that the Italian could prove little or -nothing unsupported by the evidence of others. But this case was -different. He dared not grapple with it. His brain seemed to reel. His -heart felt as if the blood stood still in it. The man had been on the -spot at the time; he had evidently seen all. His testimony joined to -that of the Italian was death. Would he brave it? Would he dare him to -do his worst? Would he undergo trial--risk condemnation. He thought of -his son, of his brother, of his family, of the honour of his name and -race: and when the man went away, the basket, full of gold pieces, -which had been found in the secret drawer, was empty. - -The unhappy man he left sat for a few minutes with his hands covering -his eyes. Who shall tell the agony of his thoughts? He was roused by -some one tapping at one of the windows which descended to the ground; -and starting up, he beheld a beautiful boy, with a sun-burned face, -plainly, but well dressed, gazing in. - -Sir William strode forward, threw the window open, and gazed at the -boy with strange and new sensations: "Who are you, my dear?" he said, -taking his hand, and leading him in. "Did Mr. Winslow send you?" - -"No," answered the boy; "I came to seek him: Mr. Lockwood sent me." - -"But do you not live with Mr. Winslow?" asked Sir William; "is he not -kind to you?" - -"Oh! that he is," replied the boy, warmly. "But is he here?" - -Sir William Winslow cast his arms round him, held him to his heart, -and wept, without reply. - -"No harm has happened to him?" asked the boy, anxiously. - -"Oh no!" said his father; "no. He promised to send you down to me; but -he must have taken a different road from you. What did you want with -him? Do you know who I am?" - -"No, I do not," replied the boy; "but if you are Sir William Winslow, -his brother, I was to tell you, in case he was gone"-- - -"And what were you to tell?" demanded the baronet. "I am Sir William -Winslow." - -"Then put down your ear, and I will whisper it," said the boy; "for I -was not to let any one else hear. Mr. Lockwood said that you were to -mount your horse and ride over to Winslow Abbey as fast as possible, -by the east gates of the park; because there are two constables come -over from S----, drinking at the inn; and we heard them say that they -would have you in gaol in an hour, as they had your brother; but that -they would dine first." - -Sir William gazed at the boy with straining eyes, but without reply; -and the sweet young voice added, "Oh go, go! It is a horrible place a -gaol. Any place is better than that." - -"It is!" said Sir William Winslow, solemnly; "It is!" - -Again he held the boy to his heart; he pressed a warm and eager kiss -upon his broad forehead; laid his hand upon his bead, and said aloud, -"May God bless thee, my child!" He then turned abruptly, and quitted -the room by a door which led to a small cabinet beyond. The boy gazed -over all the fine things the library contained for a minute or two; -and then asked himself if he should go or stay. The next moment there -was a report of fire-arms, a heavy fall, and a low groan. The boy was -terrified; he knew not at what. He crept towards the door and -listened; but the moment after he heard the voice of Chandos in the -hall; and running out, he caught him by the hand as he was speaking to -one of the old footmen, and said, in a low voice, "Some one has been -shooting in the house; and there is a groaning in that room." - -"What does he mean?" cried Chandos, addressing the old man in much -agitation. - -"I thought I heard a shot too, Sir, when I was coming to answer your -bell," said the servant, with a white face; "I hope nothing has -happened. Master has been very odd all day." - -"Where is it, Tim? Where is it?" cried Chandos. - -"Here!" said the boy, leading the way to the library, and then -pointing to the door. - -They opened it; and found what had been Sir William Winslow on the -floor, with a pistol firmly clenched in his right hand, and the barrel -grasped between his teeth. A powder-flask and bag of balls lay on a -chair; and the carpet was drenched with blood. - - - - -CHAPTER XLVIII. - - -Crowds came and went to and from Elmsly House. For a long week the -little world of the neighbourhood was kept in agitation by facts and -falsehoods. Coroner's juries sat, and returned a verdict as much -opposed to common sense as usual. The constables from S---- went back -to their own place unaccompanied, and lost their labour. The Great -Devourer had swallowed up the destined prey of judges and juries. Sir -William Winslow was pronounced to have destroyed himself in a moment -of temporary insanity; and there is no trying the dead for murder. The -people viewed the plain and unostentatious funeral with feelings of -greater awe than is usually felt; for crime, by its happy rarity, has -a greater effect than common death. Wild tales were told; some near -to, some far from, the truth; and the nine days' wonder subsided, -leaving the sky clear, and the waters smooth again. - -So much for the outside of Elmsly House. In the inside, other scenes -were taking place. Chandos did not quit the house, but, with his -solicitor, remained in possession of that which was now his own; but -the second night after the fatal event, when the coroner had sat and -his jury had returned their verdict, the old servant Jacob came to his -young master in the library, to tell him that there was a woman -walking round and round the house, and weeping. "I saw her just now, -Sir," said the man; "and she seems flesh and blood; but were it not -for that, I could almost swear that it was poor Susan Grey, of the -mill, who drowned herself, you may remember." - -"She was saved, my good friend," answered Chandos. "I will go and -speak to her." - -He went, and what took place he did not ever care to repeat; but on -his return he ordered the hall door to be left open night and day, and -no one to oppose the entrance of that woman at any time, or to speak -to her if they saw her. Each night she visited the room where the body -of Sir William Winslow lay, and sat beside it from the hour of -midnight till the east grew gray. On the night before the funeral she -covered the coffin with ivy-leaves, and lingered till it was quite -light ere she departed. Chandos Winslow was already up; and a servant, -who watched at the door, instantly gave him notice that she was going -forth. He followed her at once, and spoke to her both long and -earnestly. The servants from the windows saw him show her a paper too; -but she did not return with him to the house, which they judged by his -gestures that he asked her to do. - -On the following day, he and the boy Tim went out on foot, in deep -mourning, and remained away for several hours; and in the evening they -set out for London. - -The first visit of Chandos was, as might be expected to the house of -General Tracy; but he had little more to tell than the party there -already knew, for his letters had been frequent during the last week. -He thought Rose looked more lovely than ever; and though all that she -had gone through, and the dark events which had connected themselves -with the rise and progress of their love, had cast a saddening shade -over the sparkling brightness of her face, yet there seemed to the -eyes of Chandos more gained than lost by that softening melancholy. -When Emily appeared, she was in mourning, not very deep, yet -sufficient to mark a sense of the painful circumstances under which -she had been freed from her ill-starred engagement to his brother. She -greeted him warmly and affectionately; and gazed at him and Rose as -they sat together on the sofa, as if she fancied, in her desponding -mood, that in their happiness would consist her future. A brighter -fate, however, was reserved for her at last. - -A good deal of business remained for Chandos to transact. His -brother's will, by which a thousand per annum was bequeathed to "the -boy, now under the charge of Chandos Winslow, Esq.," was proved; and, -to avoid all doubt or cavil which such vague expressions might cause -at a future period, Chandos at once secured the annuity to his little -protégé by deed. With Lord Overton, he found no difficulty. The -production of his father's second will showed at once that Sir William -Winslow had no power to sell the Winslow Abbey estate; and the money -to repay the sum which had been received as part payment was easily -raised upon the Elmsly property. The remainder of the rents of that -portion of his land the young baronet set aside as a sinking-fund to -pay off the encumbrance; and from that source, with the money in the -public funds, the property was cleared in a few years. When all the -necessary arrangements were complete in London, Chandos left the -little boy at the house of General Tracy, and went down again to -prepare Winslow Abbey for the reception of a bride. Much was wanting; -but skill, and taste, and ample means accomplished with great speed -the reparation of all that many years of neglect had done to -dilapidate the building, and desolate the grounds. - -It was one day while thus employed that he was joined in the park by -Lockwood, who came to tell him that a young gipsey had been to his -house to ask where Chandos was, and to request him to come down to the -wood on the other side of the river. - -"I fear," said Lockwood, "that poor girl is very ill, from what the -lad told me." - -Chandos went instantly to the spot pointed out, and found the -apprehensions of Lockwood fully verified. Under a coarse, dingy -blanket, hung between two trees, to give more air than one of the -ordinary gipsey tents afforded, with dimmed eyes and sunken cheeks, -lay the once lovely Susan Grey. Her mind was wandering very much; but -she knew Chandos at once; and from time to time the troubled stream of -her thoughts seemed to become suddenly clear. The young gentleman -remained by her side for more than two hours with several of the -gipsies, both male and female, looking on. In the course of her -rambling and broken conversation, much of her preceding history was -told. It seemed that when she had cast herself headlong from the bank -into the river, near Elmsly, some gipsies had been passing by; and an -old man, the head of the tribe, had rescued her. It was an exploit of -his old age, and he was proud of it; and loving her because he had -saved her from destruction, he adopted her as his daughter. Her -superior knowledge, for she had been carefully educated, and even the -occasional aberration of her intellect, and the quick decision of -character which bitter misfortune sometimes gives, soon obtained for -her great consideration in the tribe, which was confirmed by the -accidental fulfilment of many of her fortunate guesses. So of course -we must call them; but it is to be remarked that she herself, even in -her last hour, maintained that her predictions proceeded from a real -foresight of coming events. Although she had eagerly sought to see -Chandos, he could only discover that she had one request to make, and -that referred to her interment. - -"Let me have Christian burial," she said more than once; "for I die a -Christian; and lay me beside him who should have been my husband." - -Chandos promised, and he kept his word; for, much to the scandal of -some, the poor miller's erring daughter, the wandering gipsey woman, -lies in the vault of the Winslow family. - -"Ay, she came to choose her place more than a month ago," said the old -sexton, after the funeral: "she gave me two golden sovereigns one -night, to let her have the keys of the vault for two hours; and I knew -very well what she came for, so I didn't disturb her." - -It was in the brown autumn time that Rose Tracy gave her hand to -Chandos Winslow; and at Christmas the whole party assembled round the -fire at Northferry. By the side of Emily, whose cheek had regained the -rose, and whose lip had won back its smiles, sat Horace Fleming. He -looked very happy. Something was whispered to Emily, while the rest -were busy with other things. "No Horace," she said; "yet three months, -and then if you will." - -A few other characters remain to be disposed of; but as no great -length of time has passed since the events just detailed took place, -the fate of several of our people is still hanging in the balance -where we weigh till death. Little Tim is now, I believe, at Eton; and -is a remarkably intelligent and amiable boy. The young gentleman will -excuse my not mentioning the name he now goes by. It is neither -Winslow nor Stanley. Lockwood is precisely the same being as when -Chandos first met with him--down to the leather gaiters. One -satisfactory thing has occurred within my own knowledge. The Italian, -Benini, is working in chains at Leghorn. He went into the service of a -Russian nobleman, who, to Benini's great grief, was cruelly -assassinated at Sienna. The police of Tuscany, however, did not like -Benini to be so much afflicted; and they tried him for murder. He -persisted in declaring his innocence; but the incredulous brutes would -not believe him; and under the mild laws of that mild government, he -was condemned to hard labour for life. - -One word more: Mr. Scriptolemus Bond is a Valet de Place, in Paris, -where he exercises his abilities in the same direction as before, -though in a narrower sphere. He, however, is contented with his fate, -although repinings will sometimes visit him, especially when a share -list meets his eyes. - -On the contrary, Chandos Winslow, and Rose his wife, are contented, -without repining. They may have to suffer some evils, as a healthy man -will have a cold now and then; but if we were to look into all hearts, -the grand secret which they would display is this, that, balance the -account of life how we will, the sum of happiness is in favour of -virtue. Without it, there is no contentment; and with it, the peace of -God which passes all understanding, surpasses everything that earth -can give. - - - -THE END. - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Whim, and Its Consequences, by -G. P. R. 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Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/51715-8.zip b/old/51715-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 0eb64a3..0000000 --- a/old/51715-8.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51715-h.zip b/old/51715-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 6bb9d90..0000000 --- a/old/51715-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51715-h/51715-h.htm b/old/51715-h/51715-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 121a5f6..0000000 --- a/old/51715-h/51715-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,15550 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> -<html> -<head> -<title>A Whim, and Its Consequences.</title> -<meta name="Author" content="G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James"> - -<meta name="Publisher" content="Bernh. Tauchnitz Jun."> -<meta name="Date" content="1847"> -<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%;} - - - -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 A Whim, and Its Consequences, 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: A Whim, and Its Consequences - Collection of British Authors Vol. CXIV - -Author: G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James - -Release Date: April 10, 2016 [EBook #51715] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A WHIM, AND ITS CONSEQUENCES *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (the New York Public Library) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<p class="hang1">Transcriber's Notes:<br> -1. Page scan source: Google Books<br> -https://books.google.com/books?id=u6olAAAAMAAJ<br> -(the New York Public Library)</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>COLLECTION</h4> -<h5>OF</h5> -<h3>BRITISH AUTHORS.</h3> -<h4>VOL. CXIV.</h4> -<hr class="W10"> - -<h4>A WHIM, AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.<br> -IN ONE VOLUME.</h4> - -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> - - - - -<h3>A WHIM,</h3> -<h5>AND</h5> -<h4>ITS CONSEQUENCES.</h4> -<br> -<br> -<br> - -<h4><i>COPYRIGHT EDITION</i>.</h4> -<br> -<br> -<br> - - -<h4>LEIPZIG<br> -BERNH. TAUCHNITZ JUN.<br> -1847.</h4> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> - -<h3>A WHIM, AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.</h3> - - - - -<h4>CHAPTER I.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">A solitary room at midnight: a single wax candle lighted on the table: the -stiff dull crimson silken curtains of the bed close drawn: half a dozen phials -and two or three glasses. Is it the chamber of a sick man? He must sleep sound -if it be, for there is no noise--not even a breath; and all without is as still -as death. There is awe in the silence; the candle sheds gloom, not light, the -damask hanging sucks up the rays, and gives nothing back: they sink into the -dark wood furniture: one could hear a mouse creep over the thick carpet; but -there is no sound! Is it the chamber of the dead? But where is the -watcher?--Away! and what matters it here? No one will come to disturb the rest of -that couch: no brawling voices, no creaking doors will make vibrate the dull -cold ear of death. Watch ye the living! The dead need no watching: the sealed -eyes and the clayed ears have sleep that cannot be broken.</p> - -<p class="normal">But is it the watcher who comes back again through that slowly opening door? -No, that is a man; and we give all the more sad and solemn tasks of life to -women. A young man, too, with the broad, free brow gathered into a sad, stern -frown. He comes near the bed; he draws slowly back the curtain, and, with the -faint ray of the single candle streaming in, gazes down upon the sight beneath. -There it lies, the clay--animate, breathing, thoughtful, full of feelings, -considerations, passions, pangs, not six-and-thirty hours before. But now so -silent, so calm, so powerfully grave: it seems to seize in its very inertness -upon the busy thoughts of others, and chain them down to its own deadly -tranquillity.</p> - -<p class="normal">It is the corpse of a man passed the prime, not yet in the decline, of life. -The hair is gray, not white; the skin somewhat wrinkled, but not shrivelled. The -features are fine, but stern; and there is a deep furrow of a frown between the -eyebrows, which even the pacifying hand of death has not been able to -obliterate. He must have been a hard man, methinks. Yet how the living gazes on -the dead! How earnestly--how tenderly! His eyes, too, fill with tears. There must -have been some kindly act done, some tie of gratitude or affection between those -two. It is very often that those who are stern, but just, win regard more -long-enduring, deeper-seated, more intense, than the blandishing, light-minded -man of sweet and hollow courtesies.</p> - -<p class="normal">The tear overtops the eyelid, and falls upon the dark shooting-jacket; and -then, bending down his head, he presses his lips upon the marble brow. A drop -(of the heart's dew) will be found there in the morning; for there is no warmth -in that cold forehead to dry it up.</p> - -<p class="normal">The curtains are closed again; the room is once more vacant of breath. The -image of human life upon the table, that decreasing taper, gutters down with -droppings like those of a petrifying spring. A spark of fire, like some angry -passion of the heart, floats in the melted wax above, nourishing its flaming -self by wasting that it dwells in. Then comes back the watcher, with bleared and -vacant eyes, and lips that smell of brandy. She has sense enough yet to stop the -prodigal consumer of her only companion of the night; and sitting down, she -falls asleep in the presence of death, as if she were quite familiar with the -grave, and had wandered amongst the multitudes that lie beneath.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER II.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">It was the autumn of the year, when men who do such things, shoot pheasants, -and go hunting. The leaves had fallen from the trees, and were blown about in -heaps by the chill wind; or if any hung upon the sapless branches, it was but as -the tatters of a shroud on the dry bones of some violated tomb; the grass in the -fields was brown, and beaten down by wind and storm; the streams were flooded -with yellow torrents from the hills, and waved about in wild confusion the -thick, fleshy stems of the water weeds; and the face of earth, cold and -spiritless like that of a corpse, glared up to the sunless sky, without one -promise of the glorious resurrection of the spring. It was night, too, dull, -gray night. The raven's wing brooded over the whole world; clouds were upon the -firmament; no moonbeam warmed with sweet prophecy the edge of the vapour; but, -dim and monotonous, the black veil quenched the starry eyes of heaven, and the -shrill wind that whistled through the creaking tree-tops, stirred not even the -edges of that dun pall so as to afford one glimpse of things beneath.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a dark clay-like smell in the air, too, a smell of decay; for the -vegetable world was rotting down into the earth, and the death of the year's -life made itself felt to every sense. All was dark, and foul, and chilly as a -tomb.</p> - -<p class="normal">With a quick, strong step, firm, well-planted, unwavering, a man walked along -with a stick over his shoulder, and a bundle on the hook of the stick. There was -nothing gay or lightsome in his gait. It betokened strength, resolution, -self-dependence, but not cheerfulness. He whistled not as he went: the wind -whistled enough for the whole world. He neither looked up nor down, but straight -forward on his way; and though the blast beat upon his breast and over his -cheek, though the thin, sleety rain dashed in his face, and poked its icy -fingers in his eyes, on he went sturdily. He never seemed to feel it. He was -either young and hardy, or had bitter things in his heart which armoured him -against the sharp tooth of the weather--perhaps both. He seemed to know his way -well too, for he paused not to consider or look round; but on--on, for many an -hour he walked, till at length a stream stopped him, hissing along under its -sedgy banks, and in some places overtopping them with the swollen waters.</p> - -<p class="normal">There he halted for an instant, but not longer; and then with a laugh, short -and not gay, he walked straight on, following the path. The turbid torrent came -to his knee, rose to the hip, reached his elbows. "Deep enough!" said the night -wanderer, but on he went. The stream wrestled with, and shook him, tugged at his -feet, strove to whirl him round in its eddies, splashed up against his chest, -and, like a hungry serpent, seemed to lick the prey it was fierce to swallow up. -He let go the stick and the bundle, and swam. It was his only chance to reach -the other bank alive; but he uttered no cry, he called for no help: perhaps he -knew that it would be in vain. He could not conquer without loss, though he gave -the torrent buffet for buffet, but, like a determined band fighting against a -superior force, he smote still, though turned from his direct course, and still -made progress onward, till catching the root of an old tree, he held firm, -regained his breath and his footing, and leaped upon the bank.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who are you? and what do you want here?" asked a voice the moment after, as -he paused by the tree, and drew a deep breath.</p> - -<p class="normal">The wayfarer looked round, and saw, by what light there was a man of -apparently his own height and strength, standing by an alder near. "I must first -know where I am," he said in return, "before I can tell you what I want."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come, come, that will not do," replied the other; "you must have some sharp -object, to swim across such a night as this, and must know well enough where you -were coming, and what you were coming for. Who are you? I say--and if you do no -tell, I will make you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That were difficult," answered the other; "but I will tell you what I am, -and why I swam the stream, if that will do. I am a man not of a nature nor in a -mood to be turned back. The river lay in my way, and therefore I came over it; -but <i></i>I have lost my bundle, which is a pity; and I am wetter than is -pleasant."</p> - -<p class="normal">"As for your bundle," said the other, "that will stick upon Winslow wear; and -as for your being wet, I could help you to dry clothes if I knew who you were."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not knowing will not prevent you," rejoined the other. "Winslow wear!--Now I -know where I am. I was not aware I had walked so far by seven good miles. Then I -must be in Winslow park."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not far wrong," said the other man; "but you seem to be a somewhat strange -lad, and wilful withal. As you have lost your bundle, however, and got your -clothes wet, you had better come with me; for after all, I dare say you mean no -harm, and I may as well help you to a dry jacket."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I mean no harm to any one," was the reply; "and I think I must stop -somewhere near, for my clothes will not dry so soon to-night as they would in -the summer sunshine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Certainly not," answered the other, "there is more chance of saturation than -evaporation."</p> - -<p class="normal">The swimmer of the stream turned suddenly and looked at him, in some -surprise: then fell into a fit of thought: and in the end, without noticing his -companion's fine words observed, "I am not getting any dryer by standing here: -and you are getting wetter; for the rain is coming on more fiercely. If you have -any will to give me shelter and dry clothes, now is the time. If not, I must go -and seek them elsewhere."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Suppose I say you shan't," inquired the other, "what would you do then?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Walk away," was the answer.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And if I stopped you?" said the other.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pitch you into the river, and see if you can swim it as well as I did," -rejoined the wayfarer.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The chances would be against you, my friend," rejoined his new companion: -"we are about the same height and size, I think; and not very different in make. -Suppose us equal then in strength. You have, however, taken a walk to-night long -enough to make you lose seven miles of your count; you have swam that river in -flood, and have lost somewhat of your strength at every mile of the way, and -every yard of the water. Your strength and mine then, being at first equal -quantities, you must inquire, whether <i>a</i> can be equal to <i>b</i>, minus <i>c</i> the -walk, and <i>d</i> the stream?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes," answered the other, "for there is one thing you do not take into -account."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is that?" asked the arithmetician.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Despair!" said his new-found friend; "for I tell you fairly, that if you -make me try to pitch you into the river, I do not care a straw whether I go in -with you or not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is a different affair," replied his companion drily; "despair is an -unknown quantity, and I have not time to arrive at it; so come along."</p> - -<p class="normal">The other did not make any answer, but walked on with him, following a path -which in ordinary times communicated with that which he had pursued on the other -side of the stream, by a little wooden bridge, which had been apparently washed -away in the flood. Both the men mused; and probably there was a good deal of -similarity in the questions which they were separately trying in their own -minds. When man first meets man, to each is presented a problem which he is -bound to solve as speedily as possible. Every man is a sphinx to his neighbour, -and propounds an enigma, which the other must answer, or woe be to him. The -riddle is, "What is within this casket of flesh before my eyes?" and none can -tell how important may be the solution. We may be parted soon, whether the -impression made by the one upon the other be like the ripple of the wind upon -the sea, or profound as the channel which the torrent has worn in the rock; for--</p> - - -<p style="margin-left:15%">"--many meet, who never yet have met,<br> -To part too soon, but never to forget."</p> - - -<p class="normal">But on the contrary, under the most adverse circumstances, without a -probability, against all likelihood, the companion led in by the hand of chance, -is often linked with us by fate through life--bound by the iron chain of -circumstances to the same column in the prison of destiny as ourselves, destined -to work at the same day-labour, and accomplish, with our help, the same task. -None but the dull, then, ever see another human being for five minutes, without -asking, "What is the god of the temple? what are his powers?"</p> - -<p class="normal">There was not a word uttered by either, as they walked along. Yet each knew -that the other was not an ordinary man; but the person whom the wayfarer had -found upon the bank was much more curious in his inquiries; for the other, -though a quick and active-minded creature, had many other thoughts in his bosom, -stronger, more continuous than those which the character of his companion had -suggested, and which the latter might cross and recross, like the thread upon -the shuttle, but did not interrupt.</p> - -<p class="normal">Now for the first time on his long way--he had walked thirty miles that -night--he sometimes looked around him. The faint gray of dawn aided his eyes; but -the objects were not cheerful. The scenery indeed was fine. There were hill and -dale; and river and lawn; wood and heath; fern, hawthorn, birch, oak, beech, and -solemn yew, with the broad, sturdy chestnut, and the tall, ghostlike larch. -There were jays amongst the trees, just stirring and screaming in the first -light; and herds of deer, with the thick-necked bucks lifting their heads to -snuff the morn. Nevertheless, there was a something which spoke neglect--a -keeper's house untenanted, with broken windows--long rasping arms of bramble -stretching across the paths, some trees cut down and rotting where they lay, a -Greek temple in ruins, with marble columns, which in their own fair clime would -have remained pure as the snows of Olympus, green with the dark mould of English -humidity. Ducks were dabbling among their favourite weed, where swans had swam -in the clear water; and an infinite number of rich exotic evergreens, untrimmed -and forgotten, were mingling their low branches with the long, rank grass. There -was no mistaking it. The place had been long neglected.</p> - -<p class="normal">They passed quite across the park to a spot where the solid brick wall had -been carried out of the straight line, to enclose about half-an-acre of ground -beyond the exact limits. An open fence of wood-work separated that half-acre -from the actual park. The brick wall run round without, forming three sides of a -parallelogram. The space within was neatly cultivated as a garden; and there -were, besides the long, straight rows of cabbages amongst the well-trained -trees, several beds of autumn flowers, still in bloom. They were as stiff as all -late flowers are; but still they were flowers, and it was autumn; and they gave -signs of care in the midst of neglect, of vigour amidst decay, of life in death.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a little wicket-gate in the centre of the wooden fence, with a -latch, which the wayfarer's companion raised, and led the way down a gravel -walk, to a house amongst the apple-trees at the other side, resting against the -wall of the park--a small house of two stories--built of brown brick, and covered -with white and yellow lichens. Another moment and they were within the door, -which was not locked. The room they entered had a brick floor, clean swept and -reddened. Everything was in good order, and a wood fire, which was already -lighted, had fallen into that state where glowing eyes look out from the white -ashes, like those of a lion from a bush. The walls had two rows of shelves -hanging against them, and a great old dark oak armory or press, carved with -apostles and wild beasts. Balaam and his ass, were there too; and the old -prophet and the lion. The shelves supported, the one, crockery, the other, old -books with greasy backs. Standing in front of the books, on the same shelf, were -two or three small cups of precious old china, and an ink-glass. Amongst the -crockery, were a bullet-mould, a powder-horn, and half-a-dozen floats. There was -a neat white curtain over the window, and every one of the tiny panes was as -clear as a diamond.</p> - -<p class="normal">The wayfarer looked around him with a faint smile, and then turned to his -host; and the two gazed upon each other in silence for a minute. If there had -been a struggle between them on the bank of the stream, it would have been a -very doubtful one; for never were two men better matched. As they stood there, -they looked like two well-chosen carriage-horses, of an equal height within a -quarter of an inch, both broad in chest, strong in limb, thin in flank, both -tanned with exercise and exposure; both of that hardy rich brown complexion, -where the hair seems to curl from very vigour, and both in the prime of strength -and activity, though in point of years lay the principal difference between -them. The master of the house might, perhaps, be three or four years older than -his guest; but as the latter was at least four or five and twenty, age gave the -other no advantage.</p> - -<p class="normal">The wayfarer was dressed in a dark velveteen shooting-jacket, leathern -gaiters, and strong but well-made shoes; and under the coat was a waistcoat, -with long rows of little pockets, for holding gun charges. He had what is called -a foraging cap on his head, and a good deal of whisker and hair. His nose was -straight, his eyes hazel, his teeth fine, and his chin rounded and somewhat -prominent. The other was dressed in a fustian coat, with large pockets, thick -hobnailed shoes, and leathern gaiters, with a straw hat upon his head, and -corduroy breeches on his thighs. His features were good, and, like his guest, he -had a straight nose and a rounded chin, with eyebrows exactly like the other's; -but the eyes, instead of being hazel, were of a dark gray, and his beard and -whiskers were closely shaved, and hair cut short. There were several points of -difference between them, but more of similarity; and the similarity depended -upon feature, form, and complexion, the difference more upon adventitious -circumstances.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are my double," said the master of the house, after they had gazed at -each other for some time, both feeling that there was a strong resemblance; "and -as such you have as good a right to wear my clothes as myself. They are not as -good as yours; but they are dry, which makes them better for the time."</p> - -<p class="normal">He opened the old armory, which was full of guns and fishing rods, and from -one of two drawers at the bottom took out a very little used suit of -country-made clothes.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There," he said, "put those on; and we will afterwards go and see if we can -find your bundle at the wear. Here, come into the back room, and I will give you -a clean shirt and stockings. I never let cotton and wool lie together; for they -might quarrel, being near akin."</p> - -<p class="normal">The other followed, and after having fulfilled his promise as to the shirt -and the stockings, the master of the house left him, and returned to blow the -fire into a blaze.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER III.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">Man wonders why it happens so often that in our first manhood -disappointments, bitter as undeserved, fall upon us--why we are crossed in -honourable love--thwarted in noble ambition--frustrated in generous -endeavour--distracted in a just course--denied our reasonable expectations. Some -reply, It is a part of the original curse, and that we must go on struggling and -grumbling. Others--better and wiser men, and far more religious--find out that it -is to wean us from earthly affections which, when the world is in its spring -loveliness, are apt to take too great a hold upon us. Both may be right; yet -there may be something of training in it too. We have things to accomplish in -our manhood, a course to be run, a contest to fight out; and at that time of -youth we are colts which must be bitted and bridled, put at the longe, have the -rollers between our jaws; and many a sore mouth and galled withers must be -endured before we are fit for the hard rider, Fate, to get upon our back, and -gallop us to the end of our career. Does not that filly sporting in the field -think it very hard that she may not go on cantering up and down, with her head -held high, and her nostrils snorting fire, or that she may not go on cropping -buttercups and sweet grass--all very reasonable desires for a filly--but must come -and be driven round and round a ring, with a long whip at her hocks, and a -drunken horse-breaker in the middle, holding her from her joyous freedom by a -long cord? Truly, she may well think it a hard case; but she was not made for -her own service--nor was man.</p> - -<p class="normal">There is something of the same feeling in the breast of that young wayfarer -as he sits there by the fire, after having changed his clothes. That knitted -brow and curling lip show that he thinks he has been hardly used by fortune; and -yet there is a thoughtful look about his eyes which may indicate a search for, -and a discovery of, the ends and objects of disappointment. The power of thought -is a wonderful thing. See how it steals over him, smoothing the wrinkle out of -the brow, relaxing the bitter turn of the lip. He is forming plans--or building -castles--reawakening hope--recovering faith and trust. Something is working in his -mind for peace!</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have made me very comfortable," he said, abruptly, while the other -lifted a small tin kettle from the fire, where it had been hissing and -spluttering for a minute or two; "and I am now ready to go out and seek my -bundle at the wear. My wet things can dry here till I come back."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We will have a cup of tea first," said his entertainer, "the girl will bring -the milk in a minute; and, though I can do without most luxuries, I cannot do -without tea. It is the only thing that goes into the mouth which may be -considered a luxury of the mind. It is wonderful how it clears a man's head, and -gives him a command over his intellect. If I want to solve a problem, or -translate a stiff passage, I must have my cup of tea. The Chinese must be a wise -people to grow such a herb."</p> - -<p class="normal">The wayfarer smiled. "You are a strange sort of person," he said; "and, I -suppose, are of a better rank and station than your appearance betokens."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am the son of the blacksmith's daughter," replied the man, simply; "I can -shoe a horse or forge a bar with any man in the country. That I learned from my -grandfather. I can shoot a buck or bring down a snipe nineteen times out of -twenty. That I learned from the head keeper. I know as much of gardening and -botany as the old gardener did, who is now himself a compost, poor man; and I -know somewhat more of mathematics, and Latin, and Greek, than the master of the -grammar-school, who taught me; but yet I am nothing but the son of the -blacksmith's daughter; and I wish to be nothing more."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But what is your profession or trade?" asked his guest, with apparent -interest.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Profession, I have none," was the man's answer, pouring some water into the -tea-pot. "They wished to make a parson of me, I believe; but my wishes did not -go with theirs. I liked hammering iron, or shooting deer, or planting flowers -and trees a great deal better. I was neither fond of preaching nor being -preached to; and, therefore, I studied when I liked, wandered where I liked, -read, shot, planted, worked at the forge when I liked. I do believe, from all -that I have seen in the world, there has never been a man on earth who did as -much what he liked as I have done--except Adam, who had only one thing forbidden -him, and did that too. Now, however, I suppose the change is to come--for a -change always comes sooner or later in every man's fate. One might as well -expect to see four and twenty hours of sunshine as a life without a change--and I -suppose I must buckle to some business; for, though I eat little, and drink -little, and sleep little, yet that little must be had."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But why should you not go on as you have hitherto done?" inquired the other. -"Has anything happened to deprive you of your means?"</p> - - -<p class="normal">"Yes;" answered his companion, "I had fifty-two pounds allowed me a-year, -just a pound a-week, and this little house and garden; and leave to shoot -rabbits, ducks, and wild fowl of all kinds, except pheasants, one buck in the -year, to keep my hand in, and the right to roam about the park at all times and -seasons without question. I made my own terms, and got them. But he who allowed -all this is dead, and the people tell me it will not be binding upon his heir. -Well, what matters it? I can work; and as soon as I heard how things were, I -determined I would first try a gardener's life, as Mr. Tracy, over at -Northferry, wants one. I never let myself be cast down by anything; and when you -talked about despair, an hour ago, I thought, What a fool you must be."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I believe you are right," answered his guest, "your philosophy is far the -best; but somehow I think you will not be obliged to take the gardener's place -unless you like it. But there is some one knocking in the next room. I thought -you were alone in the house. Are you married?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Poo!" cried the other, "what should I do with a wife? Thank God, there is no -female thing about the place but my setter bitch. That is the girl with the -milk, knocking at the door in the park wall." And he walked out into the passage -to receive what she had brought.</p> - -<p class="normal">While he was gone the other sat quite still by the fire, with his eyes fixed -steadily upon it. He saw not a spark, however. His contemplations were very -deep; and as the other came back again, with the milk in his hand, he murmured, -"If they would take him, why not another?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, you were saying just now," continued his companion, carrying on the -conversation, "that you thought I should not be obliged to take the gardener's -place. I should like to hear what you can know about it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Tell me your name," said the visitor, "and I will let you hear."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You would not tell me yours, when I asked it," said the other, with a smile. -"But it does not matter. My name is William Lockwood. Now, what do you say to -that?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That you have no occasion to take the gardener's place," replied his guest. -"Sir Harry Winslow is dead, as you say; but yesterday morning, in order to see -what directions he had given for his funeral, the will was opened, and read -before the whole family, servants, and secretary, and all. I was there, and -heard it, and he did you full justice, left you the annuity and all you have -mentioned, and added a legacy of five hundred pounds."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And he left you nothing," said the other, fixing his eyes keenly upon him, -"though you thought you had a right to expect it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He left me dependent upon another," replied the young man, "which I will not -be," and he bent down his head and thought bitterly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That was hard! That was very hard!" said the other; "he was at times a hard -man.--It often happens so. Those who have in their youth been what is called gay -men, turn out in their old age as hard as the nether millstone. Whatever is in a -man's heart remains there for ever, unless that heart be changed by the grace of -God. Selfishness, which leads to one kind of vices in youth, leads to another -kind in old age. The libertine turns the miser, that is all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But he was not a miser," cried the other, sharply, "that must not be said of -him; and should not by you, at least, his son."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush!" said the master of the house, sternly, "I do not own him for my -father; and I told him so. For the wrong he did my mother, and because of some -letters of his which she held, and I hold, he did what he has done for her son. -But do not you suppose, young man, that I ever basely truckled to him who -injured her. As a child I took the education that was given me; but when I was -older and knew more, I steadily refused to acknowledge him for my father, or to -obey his behests in any way. It is this that has made me what I am. I would not -go to a college as his bastard, and become a priest at his will. I received the -small atonement that he offered, as atonement, but as giving no right over me; -and I added other things, as demands, to that which he vouchsafed, in order to -show that it was a contract I entered into, not a duty I acknowledged. Perhaps -he was not a miser, as you say; but yet look at this place, and see what it has -become within the last ten years. He has grudged every penny spent upon it since -he last lived here himself, and unless it is that my mother's spirit, either -visibly or invisibly, wandered round the place, and made it hateful to him for -the wrong he had done her, what but the miser could make him discharge servants -who had long dwelt here, and deny the means of keeping up in decent state a -place that gave him name, and had descended to him from many ancestors? Now, -what has he done with you yourself, according to your own admission. You stand -in the same relation to him that I do--all the world knows it--your mother was his -wife's maid--he educated you, made you his secretary, employed your talents, made -you the companion of his amusements, took you out to shoot and hunt, to plays -and operas, put you nearly on a level with his lawful sons, and then left you a -dependant--I suppose, upon their bounty. You have done well to cast such pitiful -slavery from you. I acknowledge you as a brother, which, perhaps, they will not; -and the five hundred pounds he has left to me is yours if you will take it."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man grasped his hand warmly, but said, "No, no--that can never be. I -have hands and arms strong enough to labour for myself, and I will do so. I -cannot take what is yours. I have no title to it--I have no claim to it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I want it not," replied Lockwood. "I need nought but what I have. I would -rather not take ought but what I bargained for."</p> - -<p class="normal">"At all events I cannot accept it," was the young man's answer; "he left it -not to me, but to you, and I will have none of it. Much that you have told me I -had never heard before; I was not aware of his having had a son by Lady -Winslow's maid, nor that his secretary was that son."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Men ever know less of their own history than the world knows," said his -companion; "but the thing is notorious. No one ever doubted who you were; so let -us children without marriage, share what he has left to such, and let the lawful -children take the rest amongst them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I cannot do that," said the young man; and leaning his head upon his hand, -he added, after a few moments' thought, "We will talk of other things, my good -brother--since such you are--I must meditate over all this; and when I have done -so, I will ask your help perhaps to carry out my future plans of life. I can -work as well as you, and am willing to do so, though it has fallen upon me, who -did not expect it, instead of upon you, who did."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My help you shall have as far as it will go," rejoined Lockwood, "but that -is not very far. It is true people like me well enough here, because I never -wronged any one of a penny, and give the old women rabbits to make broth when -they are puling; and they like me, too, because I am one of themselves, and -never pretend to be ought else, though my father was a rich man, and I am richer -than most of them; but, poor things, the only matter I have to be proud of is, -that I am a plebeian. Not that I am ashamed of my dear mother; for if a man will -take advantage of a woman's weakness, under solemn pledge to marry her, and then -break that pledge, let the shame rise on him, not her."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Assuredly!" replied his companion, with a ready warmth which would have -fully confirmed in the mind of Lockwood, had any confirmation been necessary, -the supposition of his guest's illegitimate birth; but the moment after a -deepened tint appeared in his cheek, and he said abruptly, "But let us talk of -other things, Lockwood. What is the state of the people about here? I hope they -have not been as much neglected as the place."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, you should know all about it, Mr. Faber," said Lockwood, "for you used -to write all the letters to the steward, he told me. However, they are not -altogether so badly off as they might be. The farmer has his land at a fair rent -enough, and so he can afford to give fair wages to his labourers. The old man -was not hard in that. He took what was but just, for that which was his own, and -the men have prospered under it; but he did nothing else for the neighbourhood. -Some of the landlords round are different, get as much as they can wring from -their tenants--force them to starve their labourers; and then spend a part of the -money in parish schools and new churches. I have known many a one who has made -every one under him labour like galley-slaves for mere existence, by reason of -his exactions, cried up as a most liberal gentleman, because he whitewashed the -cottages, and built a school-house. The whitewash and the school-house together -did not cost one-tenth of what he took too much for his land; and yet, to hear -all the gentry speak of him, you would have thought he was an angel of a -landlord. Men are queer things, Mr. Faber."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do not call me Mr. Faber, Lockwood," said the other with a smile; "call me -simply Chandos; that is better between brothers."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, that is your Christian name, then," said his stout kinsman; "'C. Faber,' -I remember the letter I saw was signed; but I thought the name had been Charles. -Take another cup of tea, Chandos: it is wrung from no man's hard earnings, and -will do you good."</p> - -<p class="normal">"After all," said Chandos, resuming the conversation at a previous point, -"the man who does not exact too much is by far less culpable, though he do not -do all the good to his people that he can, than he who, with a covetous grasp, -wrings the last shilling from his property, and spends sixpence of it in -instructing the peasantry, whitewashing their houses, or pampering his own -vanity. The one is only guilty of doing less than he might, the other of taking -more than he ought."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am not very sure," answered his companion, musing; "I have thought over -these matters a good deal, and I am not fond of splitting hairs about right and -wrong. If a man does not do what he ought, he does what he ought not. 'Sins of -omission,' as the parson calls them, are, to my mind, sins of commission, as -soon as ever a man knows what he ought to do, and does not do it. I have a -notion, Chandos, all these fine differences are only ways by which people cheat -themselves to avoid self-reproach; and, I believe, what foolish people call the -higher classes, are taught to do so more than any others by reading the -classics; for a more wicked sort of worthless scoundrels than those old Greeks -and Romans never was. The very best of them contrived to mix up so much bad with -their best doings, that young lads at school learn not to know right from wrong, -and to think things exceedingly fine that were very dirty."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But there were some truly good and great men amongst them," replied Chandos, -whiled away for a moment from himself by his companion's conversation: "they -might be too stern and severe, perhaps, in their adherence to right; but still -excess of virtue is not likely to lead others wrong who make it their example."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I'll give you the advantage of the best of them," said Lockwood, "and be -bound to pick a hole in any of their coats. We all know about Socrates, a nasty -old he-goat, and won't talk of him. But take Lycurgus for an example, I mean, -the Spartan. Now what he did to his countrymen would have been nothing better -than swindling, if it had been about money instead of laws. He took an oath from -them to do certain things till he came back from Delphi; and that certainly -implied that it was his intention to come back. But instead of that, he went -away from Delphi to Crete, for the express purpose of cheating the Spartans; had -his old bones cast into the sea, that they might not play him as good a trick as -he had played them; and left his laws to Sparta, and his name to immortality. -But if I were to say to any man, 'Lend me five pounds till I come back from -London,' and instead of going back, were to run away to Paris, just to avoid my -creditor, what would be said of me? Now because the laws of Lycurgus were good, -people think that his imposition was glorious; and thus they learn that -Jesuitical maxim of the end justifying the means."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I agree with you so far," said Chandos, gravely, "that there was a great -deal of false philosophy, if I may use the term, amongst the ancients: and I am -thoroughly convinced that the only true philosophy that ever was propounded to -man is to be found in the Bible."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Archimedes was the greatest man amongst them," rejoined Lockwood, following -the course of his own thoughts, a habit of which he was very fond; "and in the -study of his life and character, no great harm could be done to any one. But at -our schools and colleges, what between Roman emperors, Greek magistrates, and -gods and goddesses, we are brought all at once in our early youth into the midst -of a crowd of rogues, prostitutes, and libertines, only fit for the back streets -of a great town."</p> - -<p class="normal">Unwittingly, Chandos had been led from many a grave memory and painful -consideration to topics which had often engaged his youthful mind; and he -replied, with a gay laugh, which showed how naturally light and cheerful was the -spirit when free from the oppressive weight of circumstances: "As to the gods -and goddesses, I agree with you entirely. There was not a lady amongst them who, -in our times, would not have figured in the Arches Court; and as to the men, -Apollo was the most gentlemanlike person of the whole, and yet he would have -been transported for rape or hanged for felony long ago."</p> - -<p class="normal">In such easy conversation they went on for half an hour more. It is no -figure, but a certainty, that imagination has a charm--I mean, a power -unaccountable, and almost magical, of wrapping the mind in a golden mist of its -own, which hides or softens all the hard features of the scene around. But -often, as with the fabled spells of the necromancer, the slightest thing--a word, -a tone, a look--will waft away the pleasant veil, and restore the heart in a -moment to the cold and black reality. Such was the case with Chandos. Something -apparently indifferent threw him back into deep thought; and after a long pause, -he started up, saying, "This is very strange, to be sitting here beside you, -Lockwood, within three days! But come, let us seek the bundle I have lost. The -clouds are clearing away. There is a gleam of sunshine. When will the like fall -upon my fate?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Before long, if you are strong-hearted," answered the other, rising also. -"One half of every man's fate is his own making; the other half is made for him. -Fortune's store is like one of those shops at a country fair, where there are a -number of articles of different value, and of different use, each at the price -of sixpence. Your sixpence you must pay; but then you have your choice, if you -choose but wisely."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am not sure of the choice," said Chandos with a sigh; "but I will choose -soon, at all events:" and he walked towards the door.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay a minute," cried Lockwood; "I will take my gun. We may find some teal -by the wear; and you will want dinner."</p> - -<p class="normal">As they walked along, the younger of the two remained in silent thought. He -was not full of the energetic inspiration of hope; and the flame of expectation -had waned dim and low. Doubtless he had dreamed bright dreams in former -times--doubtless he had looked at life through youth's magnifying-glass--doubtless -his anticipations had been exuberant of the pleasant things of the future. But -there seemed a fiat gone out against him,--that he was not to enjoy even that -which had seemed within grasp. He looked over the future that he had fancied his -own but a few days before, and felt that, like the prophet on "the top of -Pisgah, which is over against Jericho," though there was a fair land in sight, -his feet would never tread it. He felt that he had been proud, that he was -proud; and he resolved to humble himself. But there was a bitterness in his -humility which produced a wayward pettishness in all the plans which floated, -like wreaths of smoke, before his mind. They were many, many, like the troops of -strange forms which sometimes sweep--as it were, interminably--before the eyes in -dreams. Varying were they too, shifting and changing in hue, and form, and -position, like the streamers of the northern meteor lights. Now he would forth -into the great and busy world, and cull honour and distinction with a fiery -energy, with the genius he knew himself to possess, with the learning he was -conscious he had acquired, with the courage he felt in heart. He would seek the -camp, or the court, or the bar, or the pulpit. He would make himself -independent, he would make himself great. Then again he said, No; he would cast -off all the ties which had hitherto bound him; the ties of blood, of station, of -society. He would take his position at the lowest grade, at the very bottom of -the ladder. He would try a state entirely new, a condition different from all he -had yet tried, and see what would come of it. He could change, if he liked. His -mind need not rust in humble life; his abilities would not get mouldy; his small -means would accumulate: He would even, he thought, from time to time vary the -scene: place humble life and a higher condition side by side, upon alternate -days, and judge between them. As first disappointment is always whimsical, it -was upon the last scheme that his thoughts most pleasantly rested; and with it -he busied himself as, crossing the further part of the park, they approached the -river. The point they made for was lower down than where he had swum across; but -he paid little attention to anything; and the first thing that roused him was -the sudden rising of a plump of teal from the rushes. They whirled round in a -dense cloud. Lockwood's gun was up in a moment, fired, and four birds came down -together. Then Chandos gazed at the rushing water, red and foaming, and he -thought it marvellous that he had ever crossed it alive. "Perhaps it would have -been better," he said bitterly to himself, "if I had remained in its fell -clasp." He spoke not a word aloud; but Lockwood answered as if he could see the -thoughts written.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Poo! nonsense!" he said; "there is always something to live for in life. And -there lies your bundle, drifted ashore at the other corner of the wear. You pick -up the teal, and get that one out of the water, and I will go and fetch it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How?" said Chandos. But the other made no reply, and, quietly mounting the -top of the wear, began to walk along its slippery and narrow path towards the -other side of the river. The younger man watched him for a moment with anxiety; -but he saw that Lockwood trod the six-inch rail like a rope-dancer, and he -turned himself to gather up the dead birds. He had got two, and was reaching -over the river to pull out a third, which had fallen into the stream, with his -head bent down, when a light touch on the shoulder made him look up.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why won't you speak to one this morning, Mr. Lockwood?" said a middle-aged -man in a keeper's dress. "I thought it was your gun, but I came down to see -notwithstanding; for though Sir Harry is dead, that's no reason the game should -be poached."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man looked down on his face while he spoke, and Chandos then became aware -how great was the likeness between him and his companion.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My name is not Lockwood," he said, rising up to his full height. The man -drew a little back in surprise, saying, "Ay, I see you are not, now; but you are -devilish like him. Then, my young gentleman, what are you doing shooting here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was Lockwood who fired," answered Chandos, gravely, with a certain degree -of haughtiness in his manner and tone. "He is over there, seeking a bundle which -I let fall into the water. There is his head amongst the weeds--don't you see?"</p> - -<p class="normal">A friendly shout from the person of whom he spoke called the keeper's eyes in -the right direction; and in a minute or two more, Lockwood, crossing back again -over the wear, stood by them with the bundle in his hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here it is, Mr. Faber," he said; and instantly a gleam of intelligence -passed over the keeper's face.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I thought you were very like," he said; "no offence to the gentleman I -hope;" (for Chandos had coloured a good deal, either at his words, or -Lockwood's;) "only he has got whiskers and you havn't, Lockwood. I was going -down to your place this morning, to ask you if you would come up and take a bit -of dinner with me and my old woman at the abbey; but as the gentleman is with -you, I suppose I must not make so bold as to ask him too."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will come with all my heart," answered Chandos at once; "only you must -take me in these clothes, for all the rest are wet."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lockwood and the keeper smiled; and the former answered, "We don't stand upon -such matters in our station, Sir! Clean hands and a good appetite are all that -we need at our table. Well, Garbett, you had better give your dame the birds, to -make the dinner bigger; and we will be with you at one, or before, for I dare -say Mr. Faber has never seen the abbey."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes I have, often," answered Chandos, abstractedly; "but it was long ago."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well I never knew that," replied Lockwood, with a puzzled look: but, bidding -the keeper good bye, and still carrying the bundle, he walked back with his -companion towards his house, both keeping silence.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER IV.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">"Here, you had better dry the things in the bundle," said Lockwood, "for they -are as wet as a sponge--but that is a very illogical figure; for though a sponge -may be wetted, yet a sponge need not always be wet."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos took the bundle and went with it into the neighbouring room, on which -the little sunshine that autumn had left was shining. He opened it, displayed -the few articles it contained--half-a-dozen shirts, a suit of fashionable, -well-cut clothes, with some combs and brushes, a small inkstand, and a roller -dressing-case, richly mounted with silver. They were all as wet as water could -make them; and he proceeded to unfold the various articles of apparel, placing -them one by one over the backs of the wooden chairs. His eye was resting -steadily upon one of the shirts, when Lockwood came in, with a face grave even -to sternness, and an open letter in his hand, apparently just received.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have deceived me," were the first words he uttered; and as he did so his -eye rested unwinking on his young companion.</p> - -<p class="normal">"How so, Lockwood?" asked Chandos, without the slightest emotion. "If any one -tells you in that letter that you are not named in the will in the manner I -stated, he is deceiving you, not I."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not about that--not about that at all," answered Lockwood, "that is all true -enough; but--." He paused, and laid his finger upon a mark in the wet linen, -adding, "Look there!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"My dear Lockwood," said Chandos, laying his hand familiarly upon his arm, "I -did not deceive you--you deceived yourself; but I did not intend long to leave -you in any mistake. I only wished my own plans to be first arranged--I wished to -give myself time to think, and be prepared to act, before I spoke of matters -that concerned me only, and not you at all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was hardly fair, Sir," answered Lockwood, not yet satisfied. "You left me -to say things that might offend you; and though I am a humble man, yet we have -what is called politeness of our own kind amongst us, as well as amongst others; -and we do not like to say what may be offensive except upon necessary -occasions."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Could I have taken offence under such circumstances," replied Chandos, "I -should have been a fool, deserving to suffer by his folly. But you must lay -aside your anger, my good friend; first, because it is uncalled for; secondly, -because I have enough to grieve me; and thirdly, because I am going to ask your -hearty concurrence and assistance in plans which are now formed to meet very -painful circumstances."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Painful indeed!" said Lockwood, with much feeling.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What has that letter told you?" asked his companion.</p> - -<p class="normal">"All," replied the other; "everything. I now know why you have acted as you -have. The steward was always a good friend of mine, and of my poor mother's; and -he has told me all that happened. I do not wonder at what you have done; I shall -not wonder at anything you may do."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All, he cannot have told you," answered Chandos; "for no one knows all but -myself and one other, who, I am sure, for his own sake, would not tell it; nor -would I. However, what is necessary to be said I can tell you as we go up to the -abbey. I would fain walk over the old place from one end to the other; and -therefore we will set out as soon as you like. You shall hear my plans and -purposes; you shall give me help, if you can and will; and, at all events, I am -quite sure you will keep my secret."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No fear of my not doing that. Sir," answered Lockwood, warmly; "and help you -I will, as far as I can, if you will only tell me how. That is all that is -wanted; for though I and mine have not been well treated, you have been treated -worse, I think."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do not call me 'Sir,' Lockwood," replied his young companion, grasping his -hand warmly; "call me Chandos; and say not a word against those who are gone, if -you love me. There is something so sacred in death, that, though it may be a -weakness not to scan the actions of the dead as we would do those of the living, -yet it is a weakness I could not part with. There is something beyond--above -reason in man's nature--something that distinguishes him more from the brute, -raises him far higher above it. It is that feeling which is called by the Word -of God, <i>charity</i>; (very different from that to which we men give the name;) and -if we are forbidden to censure our living enemies, how much more our dead -friends! In this matter there has been some mistake; the will is dated ten years -ago, when all the circumstances were very different, when no unfortunate -dissensions had arisen, when I was myself a mere stripling. So let that pass; -and now let us go. As I walk along I will tell you my plans. Do not attempt to -dissuade or advise me; for my resolution is taken, and all I require is help."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I wish to Heaven you would have something more," rejoined Lockwood, -earnestly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is that?" inquired Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, the five hundred pounds," answered the other. "I can make no use of it, -indeed. I have no need of it. I am like a tree that has grown into a certain -shape, and can take no other. I have enough, Sir, for all my wants and wishes. -That is what few men can say, I know; but I can from my heart; and when I get -the money I shall not know what to do with it. I shall only be put out of my -way, and, perhaps, be tempted to play the fool."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," answered his guest, "I neither can nor will take that which was -justly destined for you. Besides, I do not need it, I am not so destitute as you -suppose. Something--a pittance indeed, but still something--was secured to me long -ago, and it no one can take from me. But, come; as we walk along, we will talk -more."</p> - -<p class="normal">And they did talk as they walked along, earnestly, eagerly, and took more -than one turn out of the way because their conversation was not done. At length, -however, they directed their course in a straight line across the park, and in a -few minutes Winslow Abbey stood before them. Many of my readers who know the -part of the country in which I live must have seen it, some few perhaps wandered -all over it; but for those who have not, I must describe it as it appeared -before the eyes of Lockwood and his companion.</p> - -<p class="normal">Winslow Abbey was one of the few buildings of Richard the Third's reign. It -was not of the most florid style of even that time, and much less so than that -of Richard's successor; but still there was wonderful lightness and grace in the -architecture. Some parts of the building, indeed, were older and heavier than -the rest, but rich and beautiful notwithstanding. These were principally to be -found in the abbey church, which was quite in ruins, mantled with green ivy, and -fringed with many a self-sown ash. Growing in the midst of the nave, and rising -far above, where the roof had once been, was a group of dark pines, waving their -tops in the wind like the plumes upon a hearse. Who had planted them no one -knew; but the record might well have passed by, for their size bespoke the -passing of a century at least. There, ruin had fully done his work, apparently -without one effort from man's hand to stay his relentless rage; but such was not -the case with the rest of the building. Old and somewhat decayed it certainly -was; but traces were evident, over every part, of efforts made, not many years -before, to prevent the progress of dilapidation. In the fine delicate mullions, -in the groups of engaged columns, in the corbels and buttresses, in the -mouldings of the arches, were seen portions of stone, which the hand of time had -not yet blackened; and here and there, in the ornamental part, might be traced -the labours of a ruder and less skilful chisel than that which had sculptured -the original roses, and monsters, and cherubims' heads, scattered over the -whole. The ivy, too, which, it would seem, had at one time grown so luxuriantly -as to be detrimental, had been carefully removed in many places, and trimmed and -reduced to more decorative proportions in others. Where the thin filaments of -the plant had sucked out the mortar, with the true worldly wisdom which destroys -what it rests on to support itself, fresh cement had been applied; and though -some years had evidently passed since these repairs had been made, the edifice -was still sound and weather tight.</p> - -<p class="normal">Projecting in the centre was a large pile, which had probably been the -Abbot's lodging, richly decorated with mitre, and key, and insignia of clerical -authority; for the Abbot of Winslow had been a great man in his day, and had sat -in Parliament amongst the peers of the realm. On either side were large -irregular wings, with here and there a mass thrown forward nearly on the line of -the great corps de logis, and more richly ornamented than the parts between; but -all, as I have said, beautifully irregular, for one of the great excellencies of -that style of building is the harmonious variety of the forms. From either angle -of the façade ran back long rows of lower buildings, surrounding a court with -cloisters, external and internal; and on both sides the deep beech woods came -boldly forward, offering, in their brown and yellow tints, a fine contrast to -the cold gray stone and the green ivy. All that appeared on the mere outside of -the building, was of centuries long gone by, or, at least, appeared so to be. -Even the terrace in front, raised by a step or two above the surrounding -park.--though probably abbots and monks had passed away ere it was levelled--had -been made to harmonize with the Abbey by a screen of light stone-work in the -same style. But through the small-paned windows of the building, the notions of -modern times peeped out in efforts for that comfort which we so much prize. -Shutters of dark oak were seen closed along the front, except in one room, where -three windows were open, and rich damask curtains of deep crimson flapped in the -November wind.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos halted on the terrace, and gazed round. How many sensations crowd on -us when we first see again in manhood the places we have known and loved in -youth! But whatever were those in the young man's bosom, they vented themselves -in but one expression. "Pull it down!" he exclaimed, in a tone at once -melancholy and indignant. "Pull it down!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who, in the name of folly and wickedness, would ever think of such a thing?" -cried Lockwood.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It has been spoken about, nevertheless," answered Chandos; "and he, who had -the bad taste to propose it, has now the full power to do it. But let us go in: -the house seems well enough; but the park is in a sad neglected state."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How can it be otherwise?" was Lockwood's answer, as he led the way across -the terrace towards one of the doors near the eastern angle of the building. -"There is but one keeper and one labourer left. They do all they can, poor -people; but it would take twenty hands to keep this large place in order. But -the house is better, as you say; and the reason of that is, that, when Sir Harry -was here last, just about five years ago, though he only stayed one day, he saw -with his own eyes that everything was going to ruin. He therefore ordered it to -be put in proper repair. But the park he took no notice of; and it has gone to -rack and ruin ever since."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, he pushed back a small door, plated with iron, and studded with -large nails, hardly wide enough for two persons to pass at a time and pointed at -the top, to fit the low arch of the stone-work. A narrow passage, guiltless of -paint or whitewash, led to what had been the abbot's kitchen, in times long -gone. It formed now the sitting-room of the good keeper and his wife, who had -been put in to take care of the house. In honour, however, of an expected guest, -the cloth, which was already laid, although it wanted near an hour of one, was -spread in the housekeeper's room adjoining.</p> - -<p class="normal">The good dame, who with a little girl fifteen or sixteen years of age, her -niece, was busied in hospitable cares, viz., in the spitting of the already -plucked teal, made a courtesy to Chandos on being caught in the fact, which had -nearly run the poor bird in her hands through the body in a sense and direction -totally different from that which she intended. But Chandos soon relieved her -from any little temporary embarrassment, by saying, that he would walk through -the house with Lockwood, till dinner was ready.</p> - -<p class="normal">A flight of steps led them up to paved galleries and halls, many in number, -confused in arrangement, and not altogether convenient, except for the purposes -for which they were originally destined. Chandos seemed to need no guide, -however, to the labyrinth; and it must be observed, that the only use of -Lockwood, as his companion, seemed to be to exchange an occasional sentence with -him, and to open the window-shutters of the different rooms, to admit the free -air and light.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let us go this way, Lockwood," said his younger companion; "I wish to see -the library first; and the best way will be through the glazed cloister, round -the inner court."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How well you remember it!" said Lockwood. "But I fear you will find the -library in bad order; for the people left in the place do not know much about -books."</p> - -<p class="normal">Nevertheless, Chandos hurried on, and entered a long, broad, stone-paved -passage, which had been ingeniously fitted up, so as to defend those who passed -along from the wind and weather. This gallery, or cloister, ran along three of -the internal sides of the building, only interrupted at one point by a large -hall-door, through which carriages could pass from the terrace to the inner -court; and, threading it quickly, Chandos and his companion reached a door at -the opposite angle, which, however, was not to be opened easily. The key -Lockwood had not got; but, pushing back a lesser door to the left, which was -unlocked, they found their way through a small, elegantly fitted-up study to -another door of the library, which did not prove so stubborn. In this little -study, or reading-room, were six old oak chairs, curiously carved, and covered -with rich crimson velvet; a sofa, evidently modern, but worked by a skilful, -and, doubtless, expensive upholsterer, so as to harmonize with the other -furniture; a writing-table, of old oak, with bronze inkstands, lamps, -penholders, and some little ornaments of the same metal; and two small -bookcases, with glazed doors, which covered and discovered the backs of a number -of splendidly-bound books.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is all mine, Lockwood," said Chandos, gazing round with some pleasure. -"It is left to me so distinctly, that there can be no cavil about it, or there -would be a cavil, depend upon it. The words are:--'The library, with all the -furniture, books, pictures, busts, and other articles of every kind whatsoever -in the room so called; and also everything contained in the small writing-room -adjoining, at the time of the testator's death.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I'll make an inventory of them," said Lockwood, with a cheerful air. "The -library, too? Why, that's a fortune in itself."</p> - -<p class="normal">His younger companion mused for several moments, with his hand on the -library-door. "That is true," he said; "I never thought of that. And yet it were -a painful fortune, too, to turn to any account; for it would go hard with me, -ere I sold the old books, over which I have pored so often. However, Lockwood, -take you an inventory, as you say: and in the mean time, I will consider how I -am to dispose of all these things. I shall never have a house big enough to put -those bookcases in."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You can't tell," answered Lockwood. "What you are going to try first, you -will soon get tired of; and then you will take some other course, and may raise -yourself to be a great man, yet. You have had a good education, been to Eton, -and college, and all that; and so you can do anything you please."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos shook his head sadly, and replied: "The road to high fortune, my good -friend, is not so easily travelled now as once it was. So many are driving along -it, that there is no room for one to pass the other."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There's another reason besides that," answered Lockwood, "why we see so few -mount high now-a-days. It's all like bread and butter at a school; there's but a -certain portion of butter for the whole; and if the number of mouths be -increased, it must be spread thinner. However, as I have said, you can do what -you like; for you are young, determined enough for anything, and have a good -education, so you may be a great man, if you like."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have had a good education too, Lockwood," replied the other.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, but not so good as yours," said his companion. "Mine has been picked up -anyhow; and a man never makes much of that. Besides, you have always been -accustomed to keep company with gentlefolks; and I am a boor. Education means -something else than cramming a man's head with Greek and Latin, or mathematics -either; and, moreover, I don't want to be a great man, if I could. To me it -would be as disagreeable, as you will find being a little one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well, we have settled that question," said Chandos; "and for the -future God will provide."</p> - -<p class="normal">He then walked up to one of the large bookcases, carved like the screen of an -old church, took down a volume so covered with dust that the top looked as if it -were bearing a crop of wool, opened it, and read a few lines mechanically. -Lockwood stood near, with his arms folded on his broad chest, gazing at him with -a thoughtful look, then, tapping him lightly on the arm, he said, "You have -forgotten one thing: you will have to receive all these fine things some day -soon; how will that square with all your fine plans?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos took a moment or two to reply; for it would seem, he had not indeed -considered the subject. "I will tell you, Lockwood," he said; "I will give you -an order to receive them in my name. I shall be near at hand, to do anything -more that may be necessary."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But what am I to do with them?" asked Lockwood, frightened at the idea of -such folio volumes, and awful bookcases. "But I will tell you what I can do," he -added, a moment afterwards. "There's the young parson over at Northferry, he's a -good young man and kind, I have always heard, though I don't know him, and has a -large house not yet half furnished. He'll give them place, I'm sure. We can talk -of that afterwards. But it must be the good folks' dinner hour, by this time; -and keepers have huge appetites."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, let us go back," said Chandos, with a sigh. "But we can walk through -the rooms. It will not take us longer."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The base and the perpendicular are always in their sum more than the -hypotenuse," replied Lockwood, drily. "But doubtless they are not so ravenous as -to grudge a few minutes to look at places you have not seen for so long, and may -never see again.--Odd's life, pull the place down! They must be mad!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos made no answer, but walked on, passing from room to room, along the -wide front of the building. He gazed around him as he went with a slow pace, but -only twice he stopped. Once it was to look at a picture; that of a lady in a -riding habit. It was an early portrait by Sir Thomas Lawrence, with great -breadth and power, and some careless drawing and want of finish, in subsidiary -parts. But the face was full of life. The liquid eyes, with the clear light -streaming through the cornea, and illuminating the iris, seemed gazing into your -heart. The lips spoke to you; but there was a sadness in the tones, which poured -melancholy into the gazer.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, she had an unhappy life of it, poor thing," said Lockwood, at once -interpreting the expression in the portrait, and the feelings in his companion's -heart. "I, of course, had no reason to love her; but yet, I grieved for her from -my soul."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos turned abruptly round, laid his left hand upon Lockwood's shoulder, -and seemed about to reply almost bitterly. But then he stopped suddenly, looked -him full in the face, with the finger of his right hand extended to his -companion's breast, and with a sad shake of the head, moved away. The next time -he stopped, it was before a small work-table, which he gazed at for a minute or -two, and then said, "If there is a sale, Lockwood, as I dare say there will be, -I should like to have that. Purchase it for me; it cannot sell for much."</p> - -<p class="normal">He then quickened his pace, and proceeded without a pause to the abbot's -kitchen. There was apparent, however, as he went along, a quivering of the lip -at times, and an occasional wide expansion of the nostril, which made Lockwood -think that strong emotions were busy within him. Whatever they were, he threw -off his gloom when he joined the good keeper and his wife at their meal; and -though not gay, he chatted with the rest, and sometimes laughed; ate their good -cheer with a hearty appetite, and drank more than one glass of old ale. The -dinner was over, and they were sitting, about two o'clock, with that pause for -digestion, the necessity for which all animals feel, when a grating sound, as of -carriage wheels, was heard; and going to the window, the three men saw a -post-chaise, dragged on slowly by two sorry jades, through the loose stuff of -the long-neglected road.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My goody! who can that be?" cried the keeper's wife, looking over her -husband's shoulder.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is Roberts, the steward," said Chandos, with a grave face. "Do not let -him be brought in here, Lockwood. I will see him afterwards; but it must be -alone."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lockwood nodded his head significantly, and went out with the keeper, who -hurried to the principal entrance of Winslow Abbey, towards which the chaise -directed its course.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Don't say anything at present of the young gentleman being here," whispered -Lockwood to the keeper, as the latter unbolted the great doors. An acquiescent -nod was the reply, and the next moment Mr. Roberts approached the entrance.</p> - -<p class="normal">I must pause, both upon the character and appearance of that person; for he -was not an ordinary one. Richard Roberts was diminutive in person, though -exceedingly well formed; most of his features were plain; and he was a good deal -marked with the small-pox; but his eyes were fine, large, and expressive; and -his brow was both broad and high. He had been educated as an attorney by his -father, who was an attorney also; but the father and the son were different. The -father was a keen, shrewd, money-making man, who had no scruples within the law. -He had married the daughter of a country banker, and treated her very harshly -from the hour the bank broke. He had been very civil before. She bore all -patiently; for she had a very high sense of duty, which she transmitted to her -son; but she died early; for she was too gentle and affectionate to endure -unkindness long. The young man submitted to his father's pleasure, though the -desk and the red tape were an abomination to him; and he went on studying deeply -till he was out of his clerkship, when he entered into partnership with his -father. The father, who was a thick-necked man, ate too much, and drank too -much, at a hot corporation-dinner; and a thin alderman--for there are such -things--remarked, that Roberts had eaten and drank enough that night to serve him -his whole life. So it did, too; for, just as he was peeling his third orange -after dinner, and somebody was getting up to make a speech, which nobody was -likely to attend to, Mr. Roberts leaned amicably upon his next neighbour's -breast; and that gentleman at first imagined--notwithstanding the improbability -of the thing--that Roberts was drunk. When he was set up in his chair again, he -moved not, except to fall slowly to the other side; and then it began to strike -people, that a man might be dead instead of drunk, even at a corporation-dinner. -So it proved; and the firm was changed from "Roberts and Son," to "Richard -Roberts." To the surprise of everybody, however, the whole business of Mr. -Roberts's office was wound up within three months, and the office closed. Every -one knew, that the old man had been of a money-making turn; but still, they -argued, that he could not have left enough for young Roberts to turn gentleman -upon. This was true; and shortly after he accepted the situation of steward and -law-agent to Sir Harry Winslow, rejecting all fees, and doing the whole business -for a moderate fixed salary, which, with what his father had left him, was -sufficient for his ambition. Thus he had gone on for five-and-twenty years. The -tenants were always well pleased with him; for he forced no man to take a lease, -when an agreement for one would do as well; but never refused a lease when it -was required. Sir Harry was not always well pleased; for there was a rigidity -about Mr. Roberts, and about his notions, which did not quite suit him; but Mr. -Roberts, like an indispensable minister, was always ready to resign. He was now -a man of more than fifty years of age, with very white hair, very black -eyebrows, and a pale, thoughtful complexion; and, as he walked up from the -chaise to the house, his step, though not exactly feeble, had none of the -buoyancy of youth and strong health about it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good morning, Garbett. Good morning, Mr. Lockwood. You have got my letter, I -hope?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not till this morning, Mr. Roberts," answered Lockwood; "although I should -have had it last night, if the postman would but take the diagonal line, instead -of two sides of a parallelogram."</p> - -<p class="normal">Roberts smiled gravely and entered the house, saying: "Mankind will choose -devious ways, Lockwood; but, at all events, I hope you were satisfied with the -information I conveyed. I thought it best to put your mind at ease at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! it was never uneasy," answered Lockwood. "I have always my hands and my -head, Mr. Roberts, and I know how to make use of them. But I suppose you have -come to seal the things up here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not exactly," answered Roberts; "only a little business connected with my -situation, which I trust to get over by to-morrow morning."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Will your honour like any dinner?" asked Garbett, the keeper. "My old woman -can get it ready for you in a minute."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not just yet," answered Roberts; "about four o'clock, perhaps; but I must -get through some business first. Show me the way to the late Sir Harry's -business-room, Garbett. It is so long since I was here, that I almost forget -it."</p> - -<p class="normal">The keeper did as he was desired; and Mr. Roberts, requiring pen and ink, and -apparently wishing to be left alone, Lockwood and Garbett left him; and the -former rejoined Chandos in the housekeeper's room. After time had been given for -the gamekeeper to supply the steward with writing materials, and the voice of -the former was heard in the adjoining kitchen, Chandos walked away straight to -the room where Roberts was shut up, and remained there for nearly an hour. At -the end of that time the door opened; and Chandos shook the steward by the hand, -saying: "I shall see you on Saturday, Roberts, for the last time, perhaps, for -months, or years; but I trust entirely to you, to take care that whatever rights -I have are duly protected."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That I will do, you may depend upon it, Sir," replied the steward; "and, -perhaps,--But no matter; things must take their course according to law; for we -have no power, unfortunately, over men's hearts."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos turned away; and the steward remained gazing after him till he was -lost in the turning of the inner cloister.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER V.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">We have histories of almost everything that the earth contains, or ever has -contained--of kings, and bloody battles; (almost inseparable from kings;) of -republics, and domestic anarchy; (inseparable from republics;) of laws, rents, -prices; (Tooke has despatched prices;) of churches, sects, religions; of -society--that grand, strange, unaccountable compound of evil and good; where -men's vices and virtues, ever at war, are made mutually to counteract each -other, and bring about an equilibrium balanced on a hair; always vibrating, -sometimes terribly deranged, but ever returning to its poise. But, thank Heaven! -we have not absolutely histories of everything; and, amongst others, we have not -a history of opinion. The world, however, is a strange place; the men and women -in it, strange creatures; and the man who would sit down to write a true history -of opinions, showing how baseless are those most fondly clung to, how absurd are -those most reverently followed, how wicked are some of those esteemed most holy, -would, in any country, and in any age, be pursued and persecuted till he were as -dead as the carrion on which feeds the crow; nay, long after his miserable bones -were as white as an egg-shell. I am even afraid of the very assertion; for the -world is too vain, and too cowardly, to hear that any of its opinions are wrong; -and we must swim with the stream, if we would swim at all. There is one thing, -indeed, to be said, which justifies the world, although it is not the ground on -which the world acts--that he who would upset the opinions established, were he -ten times wiser than Solon, or Solomon either, would produce a thousand evils -where he removed one. It is an old coat that will not bear mending; and the -wearer is, perhaps, right to fly at every one who would peck it. Moreover, there -is <i>primâ facie</i>, very little cause to suppose that he who would overthrow the -notions which have been entertained, with slight modifications, by thousands of -human beings through thousands of years, is a bit more wise, enlightened, true, -or virtuous, than the rest; and I will fairly confess, that I have never yet -seen one of these moral knights-errant who did not replace error by error, folly -by folly, contradiction by contradiction, the absurdities of others by -absurdities of his own. Nay, more; amongst all who have started up to work a -radical change in the opinions of mankind, I have never heard but of one, the -universal adoption of whose views, in their entirety, would have made the whole -race wiser, better, and happier. He was God as well as man. Men crucified him; -and, lest the imperishable truth should condemn them, set to work to corrupt his -words, and pervert his doctrines, within a century after he had passed from -earth. Gnostics, monks, priests, saints, fathers, all added or took away; and -then they closed the book, and sealed it with a brazen clasp.</p> - -<p class="normal">Still there are some good men withal, but not wise, who, bold, and somewhat -vain, set at nought the danger of combatting the world's opinion, judge for -themselves, often not quite sanely, and have a pride in differing from others. -Such is the case, in a great degree, with that old gentleman sitting at the -breakfast-table, on the right-hand side, with the light streaming through the -still green leaves of plants in a fine conservatory, pouring on his broad bald -head and gray hair. I do not mean the man so like him, but somewhat younger, who -is reading a newspaper at the end of the table, while he takes his coffee, -colder than it might have been, if he had contented himself with doing one thing -at one time. They are brothers; but very different in habits, thoughts, and -views. The organ of reverence, if there be such an organ, is very large in the -one, nearly wanting in the other; and yet there are some things that the elder -brother does reverence, too--virtue, honour, gentleness, purity. Now, he would -not, for the world, shock the ears of those two beautiful girls, his brother's -daughters, with many of the notions which he himself entertains. He reverences -conscientious conviction, even where he differs; and would not take away a hope, -or undermine a principle, for the world.</p> - -<p class="normal">The elder girl asked him if he would take any more coffee. "No, my Lily," he -answered, (for he was poetical in speech and mind,) "not even from your hands, -love;" and rising for a moment from the table, with his hands behind his broad -burly back, he moved to the window, and looked into the conservatory.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What makes you so grave, dear uncle?" asked the other girl, following; "I -will know; for I am in all your secrets."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All, my Rose?" he said, smiling at her, and taking one of the rich curls of -her hair in his hand. "What heart ever lays bare all its secrets? One you do not -know."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" she cried, sportively. "Then confess it this instant. You have no -right to have any from me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Listen, then," he answered, pulling her to him with a look of fatherly -affection, and whispering: "I am in love with Rose Tracy. Don't tell Lily, for I -am in love with her too; and unfortunately, we are not in Turkey, where polygamy -gives vast scope to the tender passions."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is he saying about me?" asked Emily Tracy, the elder of the nieces, who -caught the sound of her own abbreviated name. "Do not believe a word he says, -Rose; he is the most perfidious of men."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know he is," replied her sister; "he is just now sighing over the -prohibition of polygamy, and wishing himself in Turkey."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not if you were not with me, Rose," cried her uncle, with a hearty laugh -that shook the room. "Why should I not have a whole garden of roses--with some -lilies--with some lilies too? Ha, ha, ha!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is always the way with men who never marry at all," said Emily; "they all -long for polygamy. Why do you not try what a single marriage is like, my dear -uncle, before you think of multiplying it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because two panniers are more easily borne than one, my Lily," answered her -uncle, laughing again.</p> - -<p class="normal">The two girls united to scold him; and he replied with compliments, sometimes -hyperbolical, sometimes bitter, and with much laughter, till his brother was -roused from his deep studies, laid down the newspaper, drunk his coffee, and -joined them at the window.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, Walter," he said, "I see those amusing Frenchmen have given a verdict -of guilty, with extenuating circumstances, against another woman who has -poisoned her husband with arsenic. He was kind, tender, affectionate, the -evidence shows; forgave her a great many offences; and treated her with anything -but harshness, though she certainly was not the best of wives. She poisoned him -slowly, quietly, deliberately, that she might marry a paramour, who had already -corrupted her. Yet they find 'extenuating circumstances.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">"To be sure," answered General Tracy. "Do you not see them, Arthur? You say, -he forgave her a great number of offences, and consequently, did not do his duty -to himself, or to her. But the truth is, these Frenchmen think murder better -than execution; and, after massacring thousands of honest men, some forty or -fifty years ago, will not now put one guilty man to death, though his crime is -proved by irresistible evidence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is all slop," replied Mr. Arthur Tracy. "The word is, perhaps, a little -vulgar, but yet I repeat it, 'It is all slop.' I will write an essay upon slop, -someday; for we have just as much of it in England, as they have in France; only -we shelter murder under a <i>monomania</i>, and the French under <i>extenuating</i> -circumstances. It is wonderful how slop is beginning to pervade all classes of -society. It already affects even romance-writers and novelists. The people used -to rejoice in blood and murder, so that an old circulating library was like a -bear's den; nothing but gore and bones. But now one is sickened in every page, -with maudling sentimentality, only fit for the second piece of a minor theatre. -Love-sick dustmen, wronged and sentimental greengrocers; poetic and inspired -costermongers; with a whole host of blind, lame, and deformed peasantry and -paupers, transformed into angels and cherubs, by the assistance of a few -clap-trap phrases, which have been already hackneyed for half a century on the -stage. Slop, slop, Walter; it is all slop; and at the bottom of every kind of -slop, is charlatanism."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Humbug, you mean," said his elder brother. "Why do you use a French word, -when you can get an English one, Arthur?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"If the men really wished to defend the cause of the poor," continued Mr. -Tracy, taking no notice of his brother's reproach, "why don't they paint them -and their griefs as they really are? Did you ever see, Walter, in all your -experience, such lackadaisical, poetical, white-aproned damsels amongst the -lower classes, as we find in books now-a-days?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh yes," said General Tracy; "I'll find you as many as you like, on the -condition that they be educated at a ladies' charity-school, where they stitch -romance into their samplers, write verses in their copy-books, and learn to -scrub the floors to etherial music.--But come, my Flowers," he added, turning to -his nieces, "will you take a walk? and we will go and see some real cottages, -and see some real peasants."</p> - -<p class="normal">His proposal was willingly agreed to; and Mr. Tracy--who was of a speculative -disposition--was speculating whether he should go with them, or not, when the -butler entered and put his negative upon it, by saying: "Please, Sir, here is a -young man come to ask about the head gardener's place."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will see him in a minute," said Mr. Tracy. "Show him into the library."</p> - -<p class="normal">While the father of the family, after looking at one or two more paragraphs -in the newspaper, walked into his library, to see the person who waited for him, -his two daughters had gone to put on bonnets and shawls; and the old General -sauntered out, through the conservatory, to the lawn before the house. Nothing -could be more beautiful, or more tasteful, than the arrangements of the whole -grounds. Large masses of hardy exotics were planted round, now, alas! no longer -in flower; but a multitude of the finest and the rarest evergreens hid the -ravages which the vanguard of winter had already made, and afforded shelter from -the cutting winds to some few autumnal flowers, which yet lingered, as if -unwilling to obey the summons to the grave. The old man gazed upon the gardens, -and vacant parterres; upon the shrubberies of evergreen, and upon the leafless -plants beside them; and a sad and solemn spirit came upon him as he looked. -Poetry, the magic mirror in the mind, which reflects all external things with -hues more intense than the realities, received and returned every sad image, -that the decay of nature's children presents, in colours more profound and dark. -He thought of the tomb, and of corruption, and of the vanity of all man's -efforts upon earth, and upon the sleep that knows no waking, and the perishing -of our very memory from among our kindred and our race. The warm life that still -throbbed high in his old heart, revolted at the idea of cold extinction, he felt -that it is a terrible doom that rests upon all the children of the dust; but -threefold terrible, to the only being conscious of its inevitable coming, filled -with the first of the waters of life, instinct with appreciation of all its -excellence. He had been in battle, that old man, he had faced the cannon and the -bayonet, had heard the eager balls whistle round his temples, screaming like -vultures for his blood; he had seen thousands dying about him; but he had never -felt what a dreary thing death is, as in the presence of those fading flowers.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length the two girls joined him, and he put on a less thoughtful air; but -Rose, the youngest and the gayest, had a shadow on her brow; he knew not from -what. It was not altogether sad; but it was as if a cloud had passed for a -moment between her eyes and the sun, rendering the deep blue more deep.</p> - -<p class="normal">The day was fine and bright, but cold; and a shrewd wind moved the dry leaves -about under the trees, making them whisper like ghosts as they rustled past. The -old man breasted the breeze, however; and his clear rosy cheek seemed to glow -only the more warmly in the spirit of resistance. So, too, his mind opposed -itself to the blast of chill thoughts which had assailed him, and he laughed and -jested with his nieces, as they went, on the very subjects which had oppressed -him when alone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Look, Lily," he said, "how all the children of the spring are gathered into -the grave of winter, already massed up to crumble down, and be succeeded by -others doomed to pass away after a brief space like themselves! And thus we -shall all tumble from our boughs and wither. There, that faded thing is me, full -of holes and scars as a politician's conscience; and that Michaelmas-daisy is -you, Lily, blossoming upon the arm of winter."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are lively, dear uncle," said Emily, laughing; "and Rose does not seem -gay, though she was so merry just now. You must have said something very serious -to her at the window, for she has been in a reverie ever since we left the -breakfast-room."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Faith, I was very serious," answered her uncle: "I offered her marriage; but -she said it was against the laws of the realm and the common prayer-book, to -marry your grandfather or your uncle. What is it, Summer-flower, that makes you -hang your head?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Winter, I suppose, uncle," replied his younger niece. "But, if truth must be -told, I am not warm. Lest us walk more quickly, till we get behind the grove, -where there is shelter from this biting wind."</p> - -<p class="normal">They did walk on more quickly; and Rose, either by an effort, or naturally, -grew gayer. They passed through the grove, and out upon the fields, then through -lanes again, deep, between banks, with withered shrubs above, when suddenly -there came upon them a smell, pleasant in winter, of burning wood, mingled with -turf.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There are some of the yellow people near," said General Tracy. "Now, Rose, -is the time, if you would have your fortune told."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I should like it, of all things," cried the girl, gladly. "Dear uncle, let -us find them out, and hear what a trifle of husbands and wives they will give -us. You will come in for your share, depend upon it; and a sweet delusive vision -of polygamy and 'famed Turkie' will be afforded you yet."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! I am quite ready," said her uncle. "But, what say you, Lily?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That I think it is always very foolish," answered Emily, "to have anything -to do with such people. If you believe them, they make you uneasy, and play upon -your credulity. If you do not believe them, why give half-a-crown for -imposition?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Reasoned like Aristotle, dear Lily," exclaimed her uncle; "but there is one -point in philosophy which you have not taken into consideration. Everybody has a -certain portion of folly to expend, which, like a boy's new guinea, burns his -pocket till it is all gone. Now I wish every one had as innocent a way of -spending his foolishness: so Rose and I will have our fortunes told. You shall -do as you like."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am as glad of having half-a-crown in my pocket," cried Rose, "as a -housemaid when she first hears the cuckoo."</p> - -<p class="normal">While they had been speaking they had walked on through the lane to a wider -spot, where, under a yellow bank, with blackberries still hanging above, like -dark eyes amongst the withered leaves, rose up the smoke of the forbidden pot. -Two or three of the tents of Kedar were seen under shelter of the high ground, -dingy and begrimed with manifold seasons of exposure, and apparently not large -enough to hold one of the bipeds which usually nestle in them in multitudes. The -reason given for an ostrich not sitting on its eggs (which is very doubtful, -by-the-by) might well be given for a gipsey not living in his tent, <i>i. e</i>. -because his legs are too long; but, not to discuss the matter too -philosophically, there were the tents, but no gipseys in them. Nor were there -many out of them in their immediate neighbourhood; for only one was to be seen, -and that a woman. Not the slightest touch of Meg Merrilies, not the slightest -touch of Lena, was apparent in the worthy dame. She was a woman perhaps of six -or seven and twenty years of age, as yellow as a crow's foot, but with a good -warm glow shining through the golden russet. Her eyes were black as sloes, and -shining like polished jet. The features were all good, though not as new as they -once had been; very like the features of figures found painted in Egyptian -tombs, if ever you saw them, reader--straight, yet not Grecian, and more -resembling those of the bust of the sybil than any others of classical lands and -times. She was still plump, and in good case, without having reached the full -amplitude (is that a pleonasm?) which it is probable she would attain, and still -farther removed from that state of desiccation at which she would certainly -arrive if she lived long enough. Her head was covered with the peculiar straw -bonnet, in the peculiar shape which has given a name to a part of ladies' head -gear; from her shoulders hung the red cloak, and crossed upon her abundant bosom -was a handkerchief of crimson and yellow. She was not at all poetical or -romantical, but a very handsome woman notwithstanding. She was evidently a -priestess of Vesta, without vows, left to keep the sacred fire in, while the -rest of the sisterhood and brotherhood were absent upon different errands; and -as soon as she perceived a well-dressed party approaching, she abandoned the -flame, and came forward with her head bent coaxingly, and her black eyes -gleaming forth from beneath the raven hair. The rapid look she gave to each, -seemed enough to afford her every clue to character she might want; and with -vast volubility she cried, in a musical but whining tone, "Cross my hand, dear -ladies and gentleman; cross my hand, pretty ladies--cross it with silver, or -cross it with gold, 'tis all the same; you have nice fortunes, I can see by the -corner of the eye. I shall have to tell you wonderful things, when I look in -your palms, I know, pretty ladies. And that old gentleman will have half a dozen -wives yet, for all his hair is so white, and children like a covey of -partridges."</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose laughed gaily, drew out her purse, and tendered her fair hand. The -gipsey woman, after having got her fee, took the rosy tip of the long, taper -middle finger, and gazed as seriously into the palm as if she believed there was -truth in her art. Perhaps she did, for imposture is often like a charge of -gun-powder, and acts as strongly towards the breech as towards the muzzle. But -when she had examined the few soft lines for a minute, she shook her head -gravely, saying, "You will live long and happily, pretty lady, though there's a -sad cross about the beginning of the line of life; but the line goes through, -and then it's all clear; and, let me see--yes--you shall marry a gardener."</p> - -<p class="normal">With a start, Rose drew away her hand, and her face became crimson; while her -sister and her uncle laughed aloud, with a little spice of good-humoured malice.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come," cried the old General, "there's a fine fate for you, Flower! Now are -you satisfied? It is true, depend upon it; it is true. These Egyptians were -always masters of mighty secrets; witness their rods turned into serpents, -though it was but to feast Aaron's rod. But this brown lady of Egypt shall tell -my fortune, too; for she looks</p> - -<p style="margin-left:15%; text-indent:20%">'A palace<br> -For crowned truth to dwell in--.'</p> - - -<p class="continue">Here, my sorceress, look at my palm, and see what you can make of that! It -has been crossed by many a piece of gold and silver in its day, as well as your -own."</p> - -<p class="normal">The woman resumed her examination; and studied the broad furrowed hand -attentively. At length she said, looking up in the old man's face, "You shall -live as you have lived, but not die as you have lived. You shall not fall by -fire or steel."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nor lead?" asked the soldier.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," she answered, "nor by accident of any kind; but by slow decay, like a -sick bird in a cage, or a sick horse in a stall; and you shall see death coming -for long days before he comes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's not pleasant," said General Tracy. "But what will become of my half -dozen of wives?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"They will all die with you," answered the woman with a grin, which showed -her white teeth to the back; "for no other wife will you have than you now -have."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hard fate!" cried Walter Tracy, lifting up his hands and eyes, and -laughing--"six wives all in one day, and their husband, to boot! But I understand -how it is. They must be all Hindoos, and will burn themselves at my funeral, -poor things! Now, Emily, it is your turn."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not I," replied the young lady, gravely; "I have not the slightest -inclination."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, pretty lady," cried the gipsey, "do cross my hand, and I will tell your -beautiful fortune in a minute."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, indeed, my good woman," replied Emily Tracy. "I am quite contented to -wait till God shows it to me. If I believed you could tell, I should think it -wrong to ask you; and as I do not believe you can, it would be only foolish."</p> - -<p class="normal">The gipsey woman looked at her fiercely, and exclaimed, with an angry and -menacing voice, "You do not believe? I will make you believe. I don't need to -look in your hand. Your proud heart will be humbled--you will marry a felon."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come, come, this is somewhat too much," said General Tracy; "no insolence, -my good woman, or I may have occasion to punish it. Those who are foolish enough -to ask you questions, you may answer as you will; but you have no right to say -such things to those who make no inquiries of you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is true, and so you will find," answered the woman, returning sullenly to -her pot; and without taking any further notice of her, the party walked on.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER VI.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">In the gray of the early morning a young man walked across the country, near -Winslow park. He was dressed like a respectable countryman, with a good plain -fustian coat upon his back, and leathern gaiters on his legs. Robust and -healthy, he went along at a quick pace; but yet his look was not joyous, and his -brow was stern. The country rose gradually over gentle slopes at first, and then -wooded hills. Soon it reached a barer region, where downs extended far and wide, -and great hills were seen, scantily covered with short grass. No trees; but here -and there a stunted hawthorn, or solitary fir; no hedgerows, no cultivated field -were there, except where now and then the traces of the plough were apparent in -a dell, promising a thin crop of barley or rye for the ensuing year. The air was -cold and invigorating, the sky clear, and the curlew, with its arched wings, and -wild whistle, skimmed away from the white patch of uncovered cliff as the -wayfarer passed by, even at a distance. He walked on, five--ten miles; and then -he passed through a gap in the hills where they had been cut precipitously down, -through chalk and flint, to give passage to the cross-country road. When he had -reached the middle of the gap, another country was before him, lying beautiful -and soft in the blue morning. Cold might be the colouring, but dark, and fine, -and clear. There were woods, and fields, and two or three villages; and a small -river, down, down, several miles below. After walking on, gradually descending, -for about a quarter of an hour, the traveller saw a finger-post, where the road -divided. "To East Greys," said one limb. "To Northferry," said the other; and he -took the latter path.</p> - -<p class="normal">Two or three minutes after, he overtook an old man in very ragged robes. His -face was both yellow and dirty, like a copper pot which had been used several -times. In his hand he carried an old kettle without a spout, filled with -charcoal, and under his arm a basket and a pair of bellows. He seemed very poor.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Won't you give a poor man something to help him on?" he said, in a cracked -voice, as the traveller turned round and looked at him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My good friend, I am nearly as poor as yourself," replied the other; -"however, there is sixpence for you.</p> - - -<p style="margin-left:15%; text-indent:-8px">'For the poor man alone,<br> -To the poor man's moan,<br> -Of his morsel a morsel will give, well a' -day!'"</p> - - -<p class="normal">The travelling tinker took the money, and put it in his pocket, saying, -"Thank you, Sir. Do you know where a man could get something to eat, and a pint -of beer?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, indeed," answered the other; "I do not know this side of the hills at -all; and was just going to ask you the same question you have put to me. I want -very much to find some place where I can get food and drink, for I am very -hungry; and information, for I have several questions to ask."</p> - -<p class="normal">The tinker winked his eye; and, with his peculiar intonation, which from -cold, or crying for half a century, "Old pots to mend!" was half a whisper, and -half a scream, he said, "I think I know where we can find all, if you are not -afraid to come with me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why should I be afraid?" asked the other. "I have very little to lose but my -skin, and it is not worth taking."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I don't know that," said the tinker. "It would do finely to mend my -bellusses. But, come along; your skin shall be quite safe, and all the rest too. -You shall have your sixpenn'orth, for giving the sixpence kindly."</p> - -<p class="normal">The traveller walked on with him without deliberation, saying, "You are going -to a party of your own people, I suppose?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay," answered the other; "there are two or three of our families down -here--some of the best of them; Stanleys, and others. They can't be far; -somewhere out of the way of the wind."</p> - -<p class="normal">With a few short sentences of this sort they went on for a mile and a half -further, and wound in amongst the woods and sandy lanes, which now took place of -the downs and chalk hills. Presently, the old man pointed with his free hand, -saying, "They are down there."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You must have known that before," said his companion.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not I," rejoined the tinker. "I can see things that you cannot."</p> - -<p class="normal">In five minutes more Chandos was seated near the entrance of a gipsey-tent, -with his comrade of the way by his side; about a dozen yellow people, of all -ages, around; and a wild shaggy horse or two cropping the scanty grass hard by. -They were a set of people he made himself at home amongst in a moment; and his -introduction by the tinker was quite sufficient to obtain for him a supply of -provisions, better than what his sixpence would have procured in any other -place, and more than double in quantity. There was one good-looking comely dame, -of about six-and-twenty, who seemed to regard him with peculiar interest, and -took care to see that his wants were attended to liberally, both with meat and -drink. But the curse of all small communities, curiosity, was upon them; and -every one asked him, instead of answering his questions. Where he came from, -whither he was going, what was his business, what the object of his journey, was -all inquired into without the least ceremony. His answers were cheerfully given, -to all appearance. He told them, that he had come from a good distance, that he -was going to Northferry, and that he was about to seek the place of -head-gardener at the house of Mr. Arthur Tracy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, it is a beautiful place, surely," answered the brown lady, who took so -much care of him, and sat on his left hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And a capital farm-yard there is," rejoined a stout merry young vagabond -just opposite. "Such hens and turkeys, my eye!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I shall have nothing to do with the farm-yard," answered Chandos, with a -smile and a nod; which the other understood right well, and laughed at in -return.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And so you are a gardener," whispered the woman, while the rest were talking -loud. "I've a notion you have had other trades in your day."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I never was of any other trade in my life," answered Chandos, boldly. The -woman looked at him through her half-closed eyes for a moment, and then shook -her head.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Are you fondest of roses or lilies?" she asked in the same tone. "Lilies, I -should think, by the colour of your hands."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There you are mistaken," said Chandos; "I prefer roses, much. But tell me -what you know of the place. Are they good, kind people there?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, yes!--Two queer coves are the old men; (Did you never see them?) but good -enough for that matter," was the brown lady's reply. "They are not over fond of -persecuting, and such things. And then, the two girls are well enough to look -at. The eldest seems cold and proud, and I dare say she is; but she gave little -Tim there a shilling one day. She didn't know he was a gipsey, as they call us, -because he's so white; or she wouldn't, I dare say. But I can tell you what, my -lad: if you do not understand your gardener's trade well, I'd advise you not to -go there; for the old Squire knows every flower in the garden, they tell me, by -its christened name."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos laughed, and saying, "He won't puzzle me, I think," rose from the -turf. "I must go," he continued; "for you say it is three miles yet, and I -havn't time to spare."</p> - -<p class="normal">To say the truth, he did not feel quite sure that he would be permitted to -depart so easily; for it was very evident to him, that one at least of the party -had found out that his profession of gardener was assumed for the nonce; and he -might well fancy that she suspected him of having more money on his person than -he really had. No opposition was made, however; and the old tinker, who seemed -to be a man of consideration with his clan, sent one of the boys to show the -traveller on his way to a finger-post, which would direct him further.</p> - -<p class="normal">The real distance in a straight line was not, in fact, more than two miles; -but the various turnings and windings which the road took rendered it little -less than the woman had said; and it was about ten o'clock when he reached the -back door of Northferry House, and stating his object, asked for admission. The -butler brought him into the hall, and went, as we have seen in the preceding -chapter, to ask if his master would see the applicant. While he stood there, he -gazed around with some interest on the wide vestibule, the broad stone stairs, -the handsome marble columns, and the view through a pair of glass doors into the -garden beyond; but, whether he admired or not, his contemplations were soon -interrupted. The door of the breakfast-room opened again, and while the butler -held it back, two beautiful girls came out, laughing gaily. There was a column -in the way, which made them separate, and the younger took the side of the hall, -where he was standing. Her eyes fell upon him, rested on his face, as if -spell-bound, and then her cheek turned first pale and next red. She passed on in -haste; but Chandos could see that she lingered behind her sister on the stairs, -and walked with her eyes bent down in deep thought. He saw it with a faint -smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come with me, master," said the butler, as soon as he had closed the door; -"Mr. Tracy will see you in a minute."</p> - -<p class="normal">It was a large, fine room, into which Chandos was led, supported by six -marble columns like those in the hall. On three sides there were books; on one, -three windows down to the ground. And having been introduced, he was left there -to follow his own devices. His first impulse was, to throw himself into a large -easy chair; but then, recollecting that was not exactly a gardener's place, and -that it was a gardener's place he was seeking, he rose up again, and walked to -the window, out of which he looked for about three minutes. That was all very -well, if he had remained there; for the windows fronted the gardens, and he -might be supposed to be contemplating the scene of his expected labours. But Mr. -Tracy did not appear very soon; the time grew tedious; and once more forgetting -what he was about, Chandos walked up to one of the bookcases, and took out a -large folio book, in a vellum cover. He first looked at the title-page, where, -printed in all the luxury of amateur typography, stood the words--"Villa -Bromhamensis." He had never heard of the Villa Bromhamensis; and turning over -the leaves, he began to read some very fair Latin verses, descriptive of the -countryseat of a noble family now, I believe, extinct.</p> - -<p class="normal">While he was thus engaged, the door opened behind him. He was not too deeply -interested not to hear it, and recalled to himself in a moment, he was hurrying -to put the book back in its place, with an air of some confusion, when the bland -voice of Mr. Tracy stopped him, saying, "What have you got there, my good man? -Do not be alarmed, I like that people should take every opportunity of -instructing themselves; but I should wish to see the subject of your studies."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos gave up the book into his hands, with a low bow, and some doubt as to -the result of the investigation; but he was not altogether without ready wit, -and when Mr. Tracy exclaimed, with some surprise, "Latin! Do you read Latin?" he -answered, "Certainly, Sir. How should I know my business else, when so many -books are written upon it in Latin?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"True, true," said Mr. Tracy, whose humour, by a lucky accident, was exactly -fitted by such a reply; and at the same time, he looked the soi-disant gardener -over, from head to foot. "You have made a good choice, too," he added; "for my -old friend here, has given a very pretty description of a very nice place."</p> - -<p class="normal">"This, I should think, had the advantage, in point of ground, Sir," replied -Chandos, in a well-chosen tone, neither too humble nor too elevated: "as that -young plantation grows up, to cover the bare hill side, it will be very -beautiful."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I planted those trees five years ago, many of them with my own hands," said -Mr. Tracy, with pride in his own work, which he feared might appear too plainly. -"It is not very well done. You see, those larches in another year, will hide -that beautiful bit of distance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"One can never tell, Sir, how trees will grow up," answered Chandos, who was -now completely in his part; "but that will be easily mended. Cut the back trees -down that stand highest; and if you want to thicken the belt below, plant it up -with a few quick-growing pines. You can move them at almost any age, so as to -have it done without anybody knowing it, except by seeing the hills again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You seem to be a young man of very good taste," said Mr. Tracy; "but come -out with me, and we will see more clearly what you mean." He opened the library -window as he spoke, and they walked forth over the lawn. Mr. Tracy asked many -questions as they went, cross-examined the applicant upon botany, and upon the -more minute and practical part of his art; found him at least theoretically -proficient, and ended by fearing that, notwithstanding his homely dress, he -would prove too complete a gardener for the wages which he intended to give. It -was a delicate point; for Mr. Tracy had a fondness for money. He was not a -miser, far from it; he was not even one of those men--they are almost always -vulgar men, in mind, if not in station--who love an economical ostentation, who -are lavish for show, and stingy in secret. But there are a thousand shades in -the passion of avarice, as well as in every other, from the reasonable, the -just, and the wise, to the senseless self-abandonment to an all-consuming -desire. Mr. Tracy had in his life known what it is to need money; he had felt in -youth the pressure, not of actual want, but of straitened circumstances; and -when his maternal uncle's death put him in possession of a fortune, greatly -superior to his elder brother's, he retained a strong sense of the value of -money, and a passion for rapidly acquiring more.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, my good friend," he said, as they approached the house again, "I am -quite satisfied with your knowledge and experience in these matters; and, I dare -say, you have got testimonials of your character; but I fear that you have -imagined the place you are now applying for to be better than it really is. It -is merely that of head-gardener, in the service of a gentleman of very moderate -fortune. You would have an under-gardener, and three labourers to assist; but -your own wages would not be so large as, perhaps, your acquirements may entitle -you."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos replied, that whatever had been given to his predecessor would -content him; and produced a letter from Mr. Roberts, the steward of Sir John -Winslow, giving a high testimony to his general conduct, and to his skill as a -practical gardener. All was then soon arranged; Mr. Tracy was anxious that his -new servant should enter upon his duties as soon as possible, for the -predecessor had been dead some weeks; but Chandos claimed four days for -preparation, and made one or two conditions; and having been shown the cottage -which he was to inhabit, took his leave, with the contract complete.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was done; the plan he had proposed to himself was so far executed: and -when, after quitting Northferry, he sat down in a small solitary room of a -little road-side inn, he began to laugh, and reconsider the whole with calmer, -and less impassioned thoughts, than he had previously given to the subject. How -different a thing looks when it is done, and when it is doing! As soon as Fate -buys a picture from any man, she turns it with its face to the wall, and its -back to the seller, writes INEVITABLE upon it, with a piece of black chalk; and -the poor fool can never have the same view of it again.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos was a gardener--a hired servant--in that balanced state where thirty -shillings a-week is thrown into the scale against slavery, just to prevent -freedom from kicking the beam. A great many things had entered into the -concoction of the notable scheme which he had pursued. There was the first -vehement impulse of a noble but impetuous disposition; a good deal of pride, a -little philosophy, and a touch of romance. He had determined to taste for a -while the food of an inferior station, to know feelingly how the lowly earn -their bread, and spend their lives; to see the things of humble condition not -with a telescope from a height, but with the eye close to the object, and with a -microscope, should need be. He had long been of opinion that it would be no -misuse of time, were every young man even of much higher rank and pretensions -than his own, to spend a year or more amongst the labouring classes of society, -taking part in their toils, sharing their privations, learning in the school of -experience their habits, wants, wishes, feelings. Our ancestors used to send -their children out to a healthy cottage to nurse during their infancy, and, in -many cases, (not all,) ensured thereby to their offspring robust and hardy -constitutions, which could not have been gained in the luxurious dwellings of -the great and high. Chandos had fancied often that such training might be as -good for the mind as the body, had longed to try it, had thought it would do him -good, especially when he found false views and cold conventionalities creep upon -him, when he felt his judgment getting warped to the set forms of class, and his -tastes becoming fastidious. Accident had fixed his resolution, and accident had -given the direction in which it acted. But there were difficulties, -inconveniences, regrets, which he had not thought of. We never embrace a new -state without remembering with longing some of the advantages of the old one. He -thought of being cut off from all refined society, with sensations not -pleasurable; he thought of being discovered by old acquaintances with some sort -of apprehension. But then he remembered that he was little likely to be brought -into immediate contact with any of the great and high. He repeated to himself -that no one had a right to question his conduct, or control his tastes. And in -regard to refined occupations, to relieve the monotony of manual labour, had he -not books? could he not converse with the dead? Besides, he had made one -stipulation with Mr. Tracy--well nigh the only one--that he should have a month's -holiday in the dead time of the year--to see his friends; such was the motive -assigned. But Chandos' purpose was to spend that month in London; to re-appear -for that period in his real character; to renew in it all those ties that were -worth maintaining, and to enjoy the contrasts of a double life, combining the -two extremes of society. His means might be small, but for that purpose they -were quite sufficient; and with these consolatory reflections he finished his -humble meal, and set out upon his way again.</p> - -<p class="normal">He did not pursue the same way back which he had taken to come to Northferry, -for he was anxious to save time; and he had learned at the public-house that -there was a coach which passed upon the high-road at about two miles distance, -which would spare him a walk of ten miles, and do in one hour what would take -him two. He wound on then along lanes, through which he had been directed for -about ten minutes, and was still buried in reveries, not altogether sweet, when -he was suddenly roused by a loud and piercing shriek. There was a break in the -hedge about fifty yards distant, showing, evidently, by the worn sandy ground -before it, the opening of a foot-path. The sound came from that side, and -Chandos darted towards it without further consideration.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER VII.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">There was a narrow broken path up the bank. There was a high stile at the -top. But Chandos was up the one and over the other in a moment. He did not like -to hear a scream at all, and still less a scream from a woman's lips. When he -could see into the field, a sight presented itself not altogether uncommon in -England, where we seldom, if ever, guard against an evil till it is done, and -never take warning by an evil that is done. More than twelve years ago, a -pamphlet was printed, called, "What will the Government do with the -Railroads?"--and in it was detailed very many of the evils which a prudent and -scientific man could foresee, from suffering railways to proceed unregulated. It -was sent, I believe, by the author to a friend who undertook to answer it. The -answer consisted of two or three sheets of paper, folded as a book, and bearing -on each page the word "Nothing." The answer was quite right. Government did -<i>nothing</i>--till it was too late.</p> - -<p class="normal">People never tether dangerous bulls till they have killed someone; and when -Chandos entered the field, the first sight that met his eyes was a tall, -powerful old man on the ground, and two young and graceful women at some -distance: one still flying fast towards a gate, under the first strong -irresistible impulse of terror; the other, stopping to gaze back, and wringing -her hands in agony. Close by the old man was an enormous brindled bull, with -short horns, which was running slowly back, with its eyes fixed upon the -prostrate figure before it, as if to make another rush at him as he lay; and at -a short distance from the bull was a ragged little boy, of some eight or nine -years old, who, with the spirit of a hero, was running straight towards the -furious beast, shouting loudly, in the vain hope, apparently, that his infant -voice would terrify the tyrant of the field.</p> - -<p class="normal">Luckily, Chandos had a stout sapling oak in his hand; and he, too, sprang -forward with the swift fire of youth. But before he could reach the spot, the -bull, attracted by the vociferations of the boy, turned upon his little -assailant, and with a fearful rush caught him on his horns, and tossed him high -into the air. The next moment, however, Chandos was upon him. He was young, -active, tremendously powerful, and, though not quite equal in strength to -bull-bearing Milo, was no insignificant antagonist. He had a greater advantage -still, however. He had been accustomed to country life from his early youth, and -knew the habits of every beast of the field. The bull, in attacking the boy, had -turned away from both the old man and Chandos, and, with a bound forward, the -latter seized the savage animal by the tail, striking it furiously with his -stick. The bull at first strove to turn upon him, or to disengage himself; but -Chandos held on with a grasp of iron, though swung round and round by the -efforts of his antagonist; and all the time he thundered blows upon it as thick -as hail; now upon its side, now upon its head, but oftener upon its legs; and -still he shouted--as, in the desperate conflict, his eyes passed over the figures -of the two ladies, or the old man, who was now rising slowly from the -ground--"Run! run!"</p> - -<p class="normal">How the combat was to end for himself, of course he knew not, for, though -staggering, and evidently intimidated by so sudden an attack, the bull was still -strong and furious; but Chandos had all his senses in full activity, and when, -after several fierce plunges to escape, the animal again swung itself round to -reach him, he aimed a tremendous blow with his full force at the fore-knee, on -which its whole weight rested. The leg gave way under the pain, and the -monstrous beast rolled prostrate on the ground.</p> - -<p class="normal">Not a minute was to be lost: the bull was struggling up again; but the -instinct of self-preservation is strong, and in a moment Chandos drew a knife -from his pocket, and cut a sinew of the leg--although it was with pain and a -feeling almost of remorse that he did it. The animal gave a sort of shrill -scream, and instantly rolled over on its side again.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There, that is done," said the young man, speaking to himself; and then -running up to the old gentleman, he inquired, "Are you hurt, Sir?--Are you much -hurt?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"A little--not much," said General Tracy; "but the boy--the boy! You are a -gallant fellow, upon my life; but so is that poor boy."</p> - -<p class="normal">The General received no reply, for Chandos was already by the side of the -boy. He gazed into his face as the little fellow lay upon his back motionless. -The dark hazel eyes were clear and bright, and the complexion, bronzed with -exposure, still showed a good ruddy glow in the middle of the check.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He cannot be much hurt," thought Chandos, as he bent earnestly over him; -"there is none of the paleness of bodily suffering; and, thank God! the -after-crop of grass is long and thick. Well, my boy," he continued aloud, "what -has the bull done to you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Given me a skylarking," answered the boy, in a good strong voice.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But has he hurt you anywhere?" asked Chandos; while General Tracy moved -slowly up, and the two young ladies stood, trembling and out of breath, at a -distance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," said the little fellow; "he didn't poke me; he guv me a thump under the -arm, and I went over his head."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But why do you not get up then?" inquired Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because it is comfortable to lie here; and because, when I try to get up, my -shoulder twinges," was the boy's answer.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let me look," said Chandos; and turning him upon his side, he pulled down -the collar of the ragged jacket, when he evidently saw a protuberance which was -never put upon any mortal shoulder by nature. It was dislocated. The grief of -General Tracy was great for the poor boy's misfortune, incurred in his defence; -but he gave it no exuberant expression.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are a good boy," he said; "a very good boy; and you shall be rewarded. -Your shoulder will soon be well, and I will take care of you. Who are your -father and mother? We must send and let them know;" and as he spoke, he looked -round towards the bull, who, with a true philosophical spirit, seemed, by this -time, to have made up his mind to his fate, and was lying quite still, with his -fore quarters in the natural position of a bull at rest, and his hind quarters -thrown over on one side, not altogether easy. His tongue was hanging out of his -mouth, too.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My mother is Sally Stanley," answered the boy; "and who my father is I don't -know."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Right," said the General, laconically; "right, to a proverb."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did not I see you with the gipseys this morning?" inquired Chandos. "Are you -not little Tim?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes," answered the gipsey boy; and the moment after he added, "there comes -farmer Thorpe. He'll be precious angry with you for hocking his bull."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then you are not the owner of the bull?" said General Tracy, turning quickly -to Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no, Sir," answered the other; "I was only passing by chance, and heard a -lady scream, which made me run to give help. I have just been engaged as -head-gardener to Mr. Arthur Tracy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He should have engaged you as bull-driver," said the General, "as -bull-fighter, as matador."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps he may not have much work in that way, Sir," answered Chandos; and -was about to retire; but the General exclaimed, "Stay, stay! What can we do with -this poor lad? He is a fine fellow. I must take care of him for life; for I -rather think he has saved mine at the risk of his own. I wish we could get him -down to my brother's place; for we must have his shoulder looked to, in the -first instance."</p> - -<p class="normal">At that moment, a stout, black-browed, middle-aged man came across the field, -looked down at the bull for a moment, and then advanced, with a sturdy and -determined look, to General Tracy and Chandos, without saying a word till he was -close to them, when he exclaimed, with a very menacing air, "Holla, Sirs, what -have you been doing with my bull?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"What has your bull, if that one be yours, been doing with us? is the -question which should be asked," replied General Tracy, turning sharp upon him; -but wincing dreadfully, as if the sudden movement gave him great pain.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's by the mark," answered the farmer, staring at the General first, and -at Chandos afterwards; as if the spirit of his own bull had entered into him, -and he was determined to toss them both. "He is a brute beast, and accountable -to no un; but them as ha' hocked un are reasonable creeturs, and accountable to -I. So, I say, what ha' you two been doing with my bull?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The first thing I did with him," answered Chandos, "was what I will do to -you, if you are insolent, master farmer. I gave him a good thrashing. And in the -next place, as there was no chance of saving my life, and that of others, from -him, if I spared him, I was obliged to cut the tendon of his leg, in -self-defence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! you thrashed un, did you?" said the farmer, pulling off his coat; "and -you'll thrash me, will you? Now, let's see."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I insist upon nothing of this kind taking place," said General Tracy, seeing -Chandos quietly deposit his stick on the grass. "Rose, my love, run by that -gate, to the Plough and Harrow public-house. The landlord is a constable. Tell -him to come here. I intend to give this man into charge. I recollect hearing -before of this bull being a dangerous animal, and of farmer Thorpe having been -warned to take proper precautions. Be quick, Rose; for I will punish this man if -I live."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, that's to be the way, is it?" said the rude farmer, in a tone not less -insolent than ever; "if folks can't fight without constables for their -bottle-holders, that's not my plan; but I can tell you one thing, old Tracy--for -I know you well enough--I'll have the law of you for doing a mischief to my bull; -and this fellow I'll thrash heartily the first time I can get him without a -constable to back him. So, good day to you all, and be damned."</p> - -<p class="normal">With this just, eloquent, and courteous speech farmer Thorpe resumed his -coat, and returned to the side of his bull. While General Tracy remarked dryly -to the two young ladies, who had now joined him, "We came out, my flowers, to -see a specimen of the real English peasant, and we have found one, though not a -very favourable one, it must be confessed. But now, what is to be done with the -poor boy. If I could but get him down to the house, we would send for old Andrew -Woodyard, the surgeon."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I'd rather go home to mother," said the boy; "she'll put my shoulder all -right, in a minute."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your mother is no more capable of putting that shoulder right, than she is -of flying through the air on a broomstick," replied the General.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will carry him down, Sir," said Chandos; "I was going to catch the coach; -but I must put off my journey till to-morrow, I suppose; for the poor lad must -be attended to."</p> - -<p class="normal">He accordingly lifted him up off the grass, and was about to carry him down -to Northferry House, in his arms; but little Tim, though by the grimaces he made -it was evident he suffered much pain, declared he would rather walk, saying, -that it did not hurt him half so much as being "lugged along by any one." -Chandos, who knew something of the habits of his people, exacted a solemn -promise from him, that he would not attempt to run away; and, in return, assured -him that his mother should be sent for instantly. With this little Tim seemed -satisfied; and as they walked along, the General entered into consultation with -his nieces and Chandos, as to what was best to be done with the boy, on his -arrival; for he suddenly remembered a very fierce and intractable prejudice -which his brother had against all copper-coloured wanderers. "The boy might pass -well enough," he said, "for he's as fair (very nearly) as an Englishman; but if -his mother and all his anomalous kindred, are to come down and visit him, we -shall have brother Arthur dying of gout in the stomach, as sure as if he ate two -Cantalupe melons before going to bed."</p> - -<p class="normal">It was finally settled, however, on the suggestion of Chandos, that little -Tim should be taken down to the head-gardener's cottage, which was at some -distance from the house, and he himself promised to remain there the night, till -the injuries the boy had received could be properly attended to.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the council of war, which ended in this determination, it must be remarked -that Rose Tracy took no part, though her sister Emily did. Rose said not one -word, but came a little behind the rest, and more than once she looked at -Chandos, with a long earnest gaze, then dropped into silent thought.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER VIII.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">About two o'clock in the day, Chandos sat in the cottage, which was destined -to be his future abode for some time, with the gipsey-boy Tim seated on a chair -beside him. The old General had gone up to the house to send off a servant to -the village surgeon; and the two young ladies had accompanied their uncle, -promising to dispatch the housekeeper immediately to aid Chandos in his task. -The boy bore the pain, which he undoubtedly suffered, exceedingly well. He -neither winced nor cried; but remained quite still in the chair, and only -repeated, from time to time, that he should like to go to his mother. Chandos -soothed and quieted him with great kindness, and was in the midst of a story, -which seemed completely to engage the little man's attention, when the door -suddenly opened; and a tall, thin old man entered, whose whole dress and -appearance, showed him at once to be an oddity. His head was covered with what -much better deserved the name of a tile, than that which sometimes obtains it, -in our good city of London. It was a hat with enormous brims, and the smallest -possible portion of crown, so that it was almost self-evident that the organs of -hope and veneration, if the old gentleman had any, must be somewhat pressed upon -by the top of the shallow box into which he put them. From underneath the -shelter of this wide-spreading beaver, floated away a thin wavy pigtail of white -hair, bound with black ribbon, which, as all things have their prejudices, had a -decided leaning to his left shoulder in preference to his right. He had on a -coat of black, large, easy, and wrinkled, but spotless and glossy, showing that -its original conception must have been vast, and that the disproportion between -its extent, and the meagre limbs it covered, was not occasioned by those limbs -having shrunk away from the garment, with which they were endued. The breeches -fitted better: and, indeed, in some parts must have been positively tight; for a -long line of snow-white cambric purfled up, like the slashings of a Spanish -sleeve, which appeared between the top of the breeches and the remote silk -waistcoat, showed that the covering of his nether man maintained itself in -position by the grasp of the waistband round his loins. An Alderney cow can -never be considered perfect, unless the herd can hang his hat on her -haunch-bone, while he makes love to Molly, milking her; and the haunch-bones of -worthy Mr. Alexander Woodyard, Surgeon, &c. were as favourable to the -sustentation of his culottes, without the aid of other suspenders. Waistcoat and -breeches were both black; and so, also, were the stockings and the shoes, of -course. These shoes were tied with a string, which was inharmonious; for the -composition of the whole man denoted buckles. Round his neck, without the -slightest appearance of collar, was wound tight, a snowy white handkerchief of -Indian muslin. In fact, with the exception of his face and hands, the whole -colouring of Sandy Woodyard, as the people improperly called him, was either -black or white. His face, though thin and sharp as a ferret's, was somewhat -rubicund. Indeed, if any blood ever got up there, it could not well get out -again, with that neckcloth tied round his throat, like a tourniquet: and the -hands themselves were also reddish; but by no means fat, showing large blue -veins, standing out, like whipcord in a tangle.</p> - -<p class="normal">To gaze upon him, he was a very awful looking person; to hear him talk, one -would have supposed him an embodied storm; so fierce were his denunciations, so -brutal his objurgations. But he had several good qualities, with a few bad ones. -He was an exceedingly good surgeon, a very learned man, and the most sincere man -upon earth--except when he was abusing a patient or a friend, to their face. -Then, indeed, he said a great deal that he did not mean; for he often told the -former, when refractory, that they would die and he hoped they would, when he -knew they would not, and would have given his right-hand to save them; and, the -latter, he not unfrequently called fools and blackguards, where, if they had -been the one or the other, they would not have been his friends at all.</p> - -<p class="normal">When Mr. Alexander Woodyard entered the room, in the head-gardener's cottage, -he gazed, first at the boy, and then at Chandos, demanding, in a most irate -tone, "What the devil have I been sent here for?--Who is ill?--What's the matter, -that I should be disturbed in the very midst of the dissection of a field-mouse -in a state of torpidity?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"If you are the surgeon, Sir," replied Chandos, "I suppose it was to see this -little boy that you were disturbed. He has--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Don't tell me what he has," replied Mr. Woodyard. "Do you suppose I don't -know what he has better than you. Boy, put out your tongue.--Does your head -ache?--Let me feel your pulse."</p> - -<p class="normal">The boy did not seem to comprehend him at all; neither put out his tongue, -nor his wrist, and gazed at the old man with big eyes, full of terror.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There, don't be a fool, little man," said the surgeon, taking him by the -arm, and making him shrink with pain. "Oh, oh! that's it, is it? So, you have -luxated your shoulder. We'll soon put it in, my dear. Don't be afraid! You are a -brave boy, I dare say."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That he is," answered Chandos; "for it was in endeavouring to defend General -Tracy from a bull, which had knocked him down, that he got tossed and hurt."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Plague light upon that old fool!" cried the uncourteous doctor; "he's always -getting himself, or some one else, into a scrape. It is just two years ago I had -to cut four holes in his leg, where he had been bit by a mad dog, because he was -as mad as the dog himself, and insisted that the beast was quite sane, contrary -to the opinion of the whole village. When doggy bit his best friend, however, he -became convinced he was mad--though, if biting one's friends were a sign of -madness, we should have to cage the whole world. I had my revenge, however, for -I cut away deep enough--deep enough, till the old fool writhed. He wouldn't roar, -as I wished; but never a bullet went into his old carcase, (nor ever will,) that -made a larger hole than either of the four that I made.--And now he has had to do -with a mad bull! I will answer for it, he went up and patted its head, and -called it a curly-pated old coxcomb--Didn't he, boy?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," replied little Tim, boldly, "he didn't. He knocked at farmer Thorpe's -big bull with his stick, when it ran after the ladies; and the bull poked him -down; for it did not get him on his horns, like it did me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's a good boy--that's a good boy," replied the old man; "always tell the -truth, whoever says the contrary. Now, master what's your name, we'll have his -jacket off; for, though there seems but little of it, still it may be in the -way. You look strong enough, and can help, I dare say; though I don't know who -the devil you are--but mind, you must do exactly what I tell you, neither more -nor less. If you do, I'll break your head, and not mend it. Put your arms round -the boy's waist."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos did as he was directed, after having taken the little fellow's jacket -off; and the worthy surgeon then proceeded to replace the dislocated arm in the -socket, an operation which required more corporal strength than his spare frame -seemed to promise. He effected it skilfully and powerfully, however, giving the -poor boy as little pain as possible; but, nevertheless, making him cry out -lustily.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, that's right; roar!" cried the doctor. "That's the very best thing you -can do. It eases the diaphragm, my lad, and keeps the lungs in play. I never saw -any good come of a silent patient, who lets you cut him up without saying a -word. They all die; but your roarer is sure to get well. There--there, it's in! -Now, give me that bandage, my man; we must keep it down tight, for the muscles -have had an awful wrench. It's all over, my dear--it's quite done, and you shall -have a shilling for bellowing so handsomely. You're a good little man for not -kicking me in the stomach, as a great lubber once did, who should have known -better. How do you feel now?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, quite comfortable since it went <i>snack</i>," answered the boy.</p> - -<p class="normal">The old gentleman laughed, saying, "Ay, '<i>snack</i>' is a pleasant sound in a -case of dislocation. You see it is when the round end of the bone--;" and he was -going on to explain to Tim and Chandos the whole process and causes of going -'<i>snack</i>,' which is very different, it would seem, in the plural and singular -number, when a voice was heard without, exclaiming "Where's my boy?--What has -happened to my boy?", and the gipsey woman who had sat next to Chandos when he -was at the encampment in the lane rushed in, with her glittering black eyes -flashing like stars with excitement and agitation. "Where's my boy?" she -screamed again, before she had time to look around; and then, seeing the little -fellow in the chair, she exclaimed, "Oh, Tim, what are they doing to you?" and -was running forward to catch him to her heart, when Mr. Woodyard waved her back -with his left hand, while he held the last fold of the bandage with his right. -"Keep back, you tawny baggage," he cried, "If you come near him till I've done, -I'll bruise you. Sit still, you little infernal bit of Egypt, or I'll strangle -you with the end of this thing. Hold him tight, young man, or he'll have the -joint out again, by--!" And the old gentleman, who had been a naval surgeon in -his day, added a very fierce nautical oath: one of those which were -unfortunately current in all mouths on board ships of war in his youthful years.</p> - -<p class="normal">The gipsey woman stopped at once, and made a sign to the boy, who was -instantly as still as a ruin; but the old surgeon continued to abuse her most -atrociously, till he had finished bandaging the arm, calling her every bad name -that a fertile imagination and a copious vocabulary could supply. It is -wonderful, however, how quick is sometimes the conception of character amongst -the lower classes, especially those who are subject to any kind of persecution. -The poor woman stood perfectly calm; a faint smile crossed her lip at the old -man's terrible abuse, as if a feeling of amusement at his affected violence -crossed the deeper emotions which filled her large black eyes with tears. She -said not a word in reply; she showed no sign of anger; and when at length all -was done, and, patting the boy's head with his broad skinny hand, Mr. Woodyard -said, in another voice, "There, you little dog, you may go to your mammy now," -she started forward, and kissed the surgeon's hand--even before she embraced her -child. She had understood him in a moment.</p> - -<p class="normal">A short time was passed by mother and son in tenderness, wild and strange, -but striking; she kissed his eyes and his lips, and held him first at a -distance, then close to her heart; she put her hands upon his curly head, and -raised her look upwards, where hope and thankfulness seek Heaven. Then she asked -all that had happened; and with simple prattle the boy told her how he had seen -the bull attack the old General, and had run to frighten it. And the woman -laughed and cried at her child's courage and his folly. But when he went on to -say--after relating how he had found himself flying in the air,--"Then that man -came up, and caught him by the tail, and whacked him till he tumbled down," she -turned to Chandos, and kissed his hand too.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But the best of it all, mammy," cried the boy, who entered into the spirit -of his own story, "was when farmer Thorpe came up, and bullied the two men as -they were looking at me; and how that one told him he would whack him as he had -whacked the bull, if he did not cut his quids."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So farmer Thorpe bullied, did he?" cried the woman, "He's a tiger: but -snakes even bite tigers." And she added something in a low voice, which sounded -to Chandos's ear, "Let him look to his farm-yard."</p> - -<p class="normal">Certain it is that the next night passed distressfully to the poultry of -farmer Thorpe. When he looked in the morning, where many a turkey had been -fattening for Christmas, and capons and fowls strutted proud, he found feathers -but not fowls. The geese, indeed, were spared, Heaven only knows why; but from -the imperial black bubblyjock down to Dame Partlet's youngest daughter, all the -rest were gone. Yet there was a large fierce dog in the yard, as fierce as his -master or his master's bull. There are, however, always in this world <i>moyens de -parvenir</i>; and the fierce dog was found to have made himself very comfortable -during the cold wintry night with feathers which must have been plucked off his -tender flock under his nose. What a picture of</p> - - -<p style="margin-left: 15%;">"A faithless guardian of a charge too good!"</p> - - -<p class="normal">However, putting the morality of the thing out of the question, the fact is -curious, as the first recorded instance of a dog using a feather-bed.</p> - -<p class="normal">The whole of the last paragraph is a huge parenthesis; and as it is not easy -to get back again after such an inordinate digression without a jump or an -hiatus, we will take the latter, and end the chapter here.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER IX.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">"There now, my good woman, you have hugged the boy enough," said Mr. -Woodyard; "you have kissed my hand, and the young man's; and the next thing is -to put the child to bed, and keep him there for the next three days. I will see -that he is taken care of; but mind you don't give him any of your neighbours' -hens, or hares, or partridges; not because he or his stomach would care a straw -whether they were stolen or not; but because he must not eat animal food, -however it is come by."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mayn't I take him up to my own people?" asked the woman, with an anxious -look.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why! you lawless baggage, would you kill the child?" exclaimed the surgeon, -fiercely. "I tell you that he has been tossed by a bull, had a severe shock to -his whole system, has got his shoulder dislocated, requires perfect quiet and -careful attendance, cool food, and an equable temperature, to prevent -inflammation; and you talk of taking him up to a set of jolly beggars, in rotten -tents, to sleep upon the ground, drink gin, and be stuffed with stolen poultry. -You must be mad to think of such a thing; or not his mother at all; which I have -a notion is the case, for he's as white as you are dingy."</p> - -<p class="normal">The woman looked at him gravely for a moment, and shook her head with a -gesture of deep feeling, saying, as she laid her hand upon her heart, "It -matters little what you think; I feel that I am his mother. But will the -gentlefolks let him bide here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here come some of them, and they can answer for themselves," answered the -surgeon, pointing to the cottage window, before which General Tracy and his -eldest niece were passing, on their way to the door.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, Doctor, what is the state of the case?" asked the old officer, as he -came in; "how is the poor boy?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"A dislocated shoulder and a good shake," replied the surgeon, abruptly; -"only a proper punishment for a mite like that trying to frighten a bull from -goring an obstinate old man, who will go through a field where an animal known -to be vicious is roaming at large. I hope, with all my heart, that some of your -bones are broken."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your hopes are vain, Doctor," said Walter Tracy: "all my bones are as sound -as ever they were: only a little soreness of my back, where the cursed beast -struck me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, you will have lumbar abscess," said the surgeon; "and a good thing too. -But the imp must be put to bed. Here is his yellow-faced mother wants to carry -him off to her filthy tents, where he would be dead in three days."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That must not be," said General Tracy. "So you are his mother, my good -woman. I am glad you have come down, for I want to speak with you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let the boy be put to bed first, before you begin gossiping," cried Mr. -Woodyard; "you can say all you have to say after. Here, young man, take his -things off; though there is not much to take. His trousers and shoes are all -that is needful; for as to a shirt, there is none to dispose of."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, what of that?" cried the gipsey woman, sharply. "I suppose you had not -a shirt on when you were born."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, indeed," answered Mr. Woodyard, gravely. "What you say is very true. -Naked we came into the world, and naked shall we go out of it; so that it does -not much matter whether we have shirts on while we are here or not. -Nevertheless, I will send him up something of the kind from our school in the -village; for I have somehow a notion, perhaps erroneous, that he will be more -comfortable when he has got some clean calico about him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I don't think it," replied his mother; "he never had such a thing in his -life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, we'll try it, at all events," returned Mr. Woodyard. "But now let us -have quiet, and obey orders."</p> - -<p class="normal">The boy was accordingly undressed, and placed in the gardener's bed; and -then, while the surgeon looked him all over, to ascertain that there was no -other injury, General Tracy took the gipsey woman to the door of the cottage, -and spoke to her for several minutes in a low tone. His words brought the tears -into her eyes, and the nature of them may be derived from her reply.</p> - -<p class="normal">"God bless you, gentleman," she said. "I dare say, to be rich, and well -brought up, and sleep in houses, and all that, is very nice when one is -accustomed to it, and better than our way of doing; but for my part I should not -half like it for myself. It is very kind of you, however; and as to the boy, I -suppose it is for his good. But I can't part with him altogether. I must see him -when I like. And if after he has tried both, he likes our sort of life better -than yours, he must come away with me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let him give it a fair trial, though," said General Tracy. "He is a brave -little fellow, with a heart like a lion. I look upon it that in reality he saved -my life; for if the bull had not run at him, it would have gored me as I lay; -and therefore I wish to do for him what I can. He shall have a fair education, -if you leave him with me; and I will at once settle upon him what will put him -above want. Of course, I never think of preventing you from seeing your own -child; but you must promise me not to try to persuade him that your wandering -life is better than that which he will have an opportunity of following. Deal -fairly with the boy; let him judge for himself, and pursue his own -inclinations."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That I will promise," answered the woman, in a decided tone; "for what will -make him happiest, will make me happiest."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then go at once and talk to his father about it," continued General Tracy; -"let him promise the same thing, and all the rest will soon be settled."</p> - -<p class="normal">"His father!" said the woman, with a sad and bitter laugh. "I wonder where I -should find his father? No, no, gentleman, there is no one to be talked to about -it but myself, Sally Stanley. He has never known what it is to have a father, -and his mother has been all to him."</p> - -<p class="normal">When, after a few more words, they went back into the cottage again, they -found Emily Tracy sitting by the boy's bedside, and holding his hand in hers, -with the little face turned sparkling up to her beautiful countenance, while -with a smile at his eagerness she told him some childish story, to engage his -attention during the time that Mr. Woodyard was employed in examining his spine. -The gipsey woman gazed at the two for a moment in silence; then, creeping up to -the young lady's side, she knelt down, and, with her favourite mode of -expressing thankfulness, kissed her hand. "I am sorry I said what I did this -morning," she whispered. "May God avert it!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Emily started, and gazed on her earnestly. She had not suffered the woman's -angry words of the morning to weigh upon her mind in the least. She had regarded -them merely as a burst of impotent rage, and never fancied that Sally Stanley -had attached any importance to them herself. But what she now said had a totally -different effect. Emily saw by her look and manner that the woman really -believed in the dark prophecy she had uttered; and there is something in strong -conviction which carries weight with it to others, as well as to those who feel -it. Emily was troubled, and for an instant did not reply. At length she said, -sweetly, "Never mind, my good woman. Forget it, as I shall do. But do not give -way to anger again towards those who have no intention of offending you. I trust -your little boy will soon be well; and I am sure my uncle will reward him for so -bravely seeking to defend him at the risk of his own life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"God bless you, and him too!" said the gipsey woman. "There is no fear of my -boy. He will do well enough. I knew he would meet with some harm when he went -out in the morning; but I knew too that it would not be death, and would end in -his good. So I only warned him to be careful, and let him go."</p> - -<p class="normal">All the woman's words were painful to Emily Tracy; for there is a germ of -superstition in every heart; and, in spite of good sense and every effort of -reason, a dull sort of apprehension sprang up in her bosom regarding the bitter -announcement which had been made as to her future fate. Its very -improbability--its want of all likelihood in her station and position, seemed but -to render more strange the woman's evident belief that such an event as her -marriage with a felon would actually take place. That the very idea should enter -into her mind had something of the marvellous in it, and easily excited those -feelings of wonder which are strongly akin to superstition.</p> - -<p class="normal">Emily did not like to let her thoughts dwell upon the subject; and after -telling her tale out to the boy, and making some arrangements with the -housekeeper, who came down at the moment, so as to ensure that the little fellow -should have the attendance of some woman, she thanked Chandos in graceful terms -for the gallant assistance he had rendered in the morning, and proposed to her -uncle that they should return home.</p> - -<p class="normal">Emily remained grave and thoughtful, however, during the whole day, and Rose -was also very much less gay than ordinary; so that when Mr. Tracy, who had been -out all the morning on business, returned towards dinner time, he found the -party who had left him a few hours before as cheerful as a mountain stream, more -dull than perhaps he had ever seen it.</p> - -<p class="normal">Before dinner but little time was given for narrative, and at dinner a guest -was added to the party who has been mentioned incidentally once before. This was -the young clergyman of Northferry, a man of about eight and twenty years of age, -but who had been the incumbent of the parish only three or four months. Mr. -Fleming was always a welcome visitor at Mr. Tracy's house, it must be said to -all parties. It was not indeed because he was Honourable as well as Reverend; -but because few men were better calculated to win regard as well as esteem. -Handsome in person, there was a sort of harmony in his calling, his manners, and -his appearance, which was wonderfully pleasing. Mild and engaging in demeanour, -he was cheerful, though not perhaps gay; never checking mirth in others, though -giving but moderate way to it himself. Yet his conversation, though quiet and -calm, was so rich with the stores of thought, that it was brilliant without -effort, and light even in its seriousness. Perhaps no man was ever so well -fitted for the profession which he had chosen; but I must not be mistaken, I -mean well fitted both as regarded his own destiny and that of others. In the -first place he loved it, and in the next he estimated it justly. He was an -aristocrat by family and by conviction; and he regarded an hierarchy in the -church as the only means of maintaining order and discipline therein, of -stimulating to high exertion every member, and checking every tendency to -neglect or misconduct. He had not the slightest touch of the democratic -tendencies usually attributed to what is called the low church, but yet he had -neither pride with him nor ambition. He was perfectly contented with a small -rectory of four hundred a-year, with a congregation generally poor, and no -prospect either of display or advancement. His private fortune was sufficient, -not large; but it was enough with his stipend to maintain him in the rank in -which he was born, and he asked no more. Had a bishopric been offered to him, he -would certainly have refused it. In the next place he had little vanity, and -detested eloquent sermons. He sought to convince and instruct, and belaboured -night and day to qualify himself for those tasks; but his language was as simple -as his mind. If a figure would now and then find place, it was because it sprung -naturally from a rich imagination, and was so clear, so forcible, so just, that, -like the rest of his discourses, there was no mistaking in the least what he -advanced. He never tried to enlist the fancy, and seldom to engage the feelings -of his hearers on his side. The latter he regarded as engines, to be used only -on great occasions, in order to carry convictions into active effect; and he -spared them purposely, feeling that he had within the power of rousing them when -it might be necessary, and could do so more surely by rousing them rarely. Then -he was a charitable man in the enlarged, but not the licentious sense of the -word. He had vast toleration for the opinions of others, though he was firm and -steadfast in the support of his own. Thus anger at false views never even in the -least degree came to diminish the efficacy of his support of just ones. He -fearlessly stated, fearlessly defended his own principles, but never disputed, -and was silent as soon as a quibble or a jest took the place of argument. There -was moreover a truth, a sincerity, an uprightness in his whole dealings and his -whole demeanour, which had a powerful influence upon all who knew him. To every -man but the most vain it became a natural question--"If one so vigorous in mind, -so learned, and so wise, is thus deeply impressed with the truth of opinions -different to my own, is there not good cause for re-examining the grounds of -those I entertain?" And thus his arguments obtained more fair consideration than -vanity generally allows to the views of those who oppose us.</p> - -<p class="normal">Even General Tracy, who differed with him profoundly, always listened with -respect, seldom indeed entered into discussion with him, and never disputed. Not -that he altogether feared the combat, for such was not the case; nor that he was -convinced entirely, for he still held out on many points; but because he was -thoroughly impressed with a belief of his young friend's reasonable sincerity, -and reverenced it. Besides, General Tracy was a gentleman; and no gentleman -ever, without a worthy object, assails opinions which another is professionally -bound to sustain.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was the guest then at Mr. Tracy's dinner table; and there, as soon as -the first sharp edge of appetite was taken off, the adventures of the morning -were once more spoken of, and General Tracy, in a strain half serious, half -playful, recounted the dangers which he and his nieces had encountered. The -young clergyman's eyes instantly sought the face of Emily Tracy with a look of -anxiety. He did not look to Rose also, which was not altogether right perhaps; -at all events, not altogether equitable, for both had run the same risk.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well," continued Walter Tracy, "Emily ran and Rose ran; but I thought it -beyond the dignity of my profession to run before a single enemy, though he was -defended by a horn-work--perhaps lumbago had to do with it as well as dignity, if -the truth must be told. But our worthy friend soon applied a cataplasm to my -lumbago more effectual than any of Sandy Woodyard's; for in two minutes I was -sprawling. Master Bull then thought he might as well take room for a rush, and -ran back five or six steps to gore me the more vigorously; when suddenly a new -combatant appeared in the field, in the shape of a little urchin, not so high as -my hip, who made at the enemy with all sorts of shrieks and screams, so that if -the beast did not think it was the devil come to my rescue, I did. But the poor -boy fared ill for his pains; for just as I was scrambling up, I saw something in -the air, small and black, with a great many legs and arms flying about in all -directions, just like a spider in a web between two cabbages; and down came the -poor child, with a fall which I thought must have dashed his brains out."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good Heaven!" cried Mr. Tracy, "was he hurt? Was he not killed?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hurt, he certainly was," answered his brother; "and killed most likely, both -he and I would have been, but--as in the story of Camaralzaman, which some -heathen of the present day has changed into Kummer al Zemaun, or some other -horrible name, violating all the associations of our childhood, the true temple -of Cybele to the heart--no sooner was one army disposed of than another appeared. -Up ran a man with a stick in his hand, a stout, tall, powerful country fellow, -in a fustian jacket; (Rose held down her head and smiled, without any one -remarking her;) and, seizing our friend the bull by the tail, thrashed him for -some five minutes in a most scientific manner. He must have been used to -belabouring bulls all his life, like a Spanish <i>matador</i>; for nothing but long -practice would have made him so proficient in an art not very easy to exercise. -Rose, my flower, what are you laughing at?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think it was enough to make any one laugh," answered Rose, "to see how -foolish the representative of our nation looked while he was receiving such a -cudgelling. I was too frightened to laugh then, my dear uncle; but here, by the -side of this table, I can enjoy the joke at my ease."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was no joke then, indeed," said General Tracy; "for it was a matter of -life and death between the brave lad and the bull. He had no resource in the -end, however, but to hamstring him, which he also did most scientifically; and I -believe that more than one of us has to thank him for being here at this moment. -It turned out that the man was your new gardener, Arthur; and we must really see -what can be done for him. As to the gallant little gipsey boy, I have taken care -of him myself, and will provide for him."</p> - -<p class="normal">This last announcement roused curiosity, and brought on explanations, in the -course of which a good deal of what has been already told was detailed, with -several other particulars which have not seemed necessary to relate.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And did the woman really seem doubtful as to whether she should accept your -offer or not?" asked Mr. Tracy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, she did," replied his brother. "And I am not quite sure that she was -not in the right. It is a very moot point with me, brother Arthur, whether -civilization tends to the happiness of the individual, whatever it may do for -society in general. When I offered what I did, I thought, not that I was doing -the boy a favour, for a man never does another a favour; but that I was showing -my gratitude for his self-devotion and the real service he had rendered me, when -I proposed to put him in a position which I myself from my prejudices valued; -but when I came to consider the woman's doubts, I began to inquire, and to doubt -also, whether he would be happier in the one state than the other."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You proposed to give him a good education," said the young clergyman; "and -if you did so, he would assuredly be happier; for he would be wiser and better."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And yet, 'Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise,'" replied General -Tracy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ignorance of evil, granted," answered Fleming. "But could that be assured to -him in the life he was likely to lead? Can it be assured to any man in any -course? I think not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps not," answered Walter Tracy; "but yet I have many doubts, my young -friend, whether the amount of evils of any kind is greater or less (to the -individual) in a civilized or uncivilized state of society. These gipsies, were -it not their misfortune to be placed amongst nations in a different condition to -themselves, would be one of the happiest races on the face of the earth. Nomadic -from their very origin, they would wander about hither and thither, feeding -their sheep, or their cattle, or their horses, and pilfering a little. I dare -say, from their neighbours, if they had any; but where the rights of property -are very ill defined, a little pilfering is not very evil in its consequences; -and with a thin population there is no opportunity of carrying it on to a great -extent. Besides, I believe, that almost all the bad qualities of the gipsey -proceed from his position. His hand is against every man's, because every man's -hand is against him. He is a wanderer amongst settled tribes; a stern adherer to -his ancient forms, amongst a people whose only constancy is that of a cat to the -house in which it is kittened; a despiser of the civilization which, as he has -constant proof before his eyes, does not make those who are blessed (or cursed) -with it a bit more wise, merry, or virtuous than himself. It is very natural, -therefore, that he should despise the institutions and dislike the men, amongst -whom he is so located only for a short time. For my part, I only think it -wonderful, that these good people do not commit more crimes than they do; and -that our purses and our lives are not taken, instead of our poultry, and the -lives of our ducks and geese. I begin almost to think it a sin and a shame to -withdraw that bold boy from his freedom amongst hedges and ditches, to poke him -into a dull, fusty school; and to cut him off from those blessings, of which he -has learned the value and tasted the enjoyment."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Fleming smiled. "If the mother were really doubtful," he said, "it would -be very easy for you, my dear Sir, to remedy the error you regret. But I cannot -help thinking, that for the sake of the jest, you are taking a much narrower -view of such questions than your mind would otherwise lead you to. You seem, -General, to consider the individual as only born for the individual. But let me -ask you, Is he not placed here for much more than that? I would not push my -notion, on the subject to any of the extreme lengths which some of the gentlemen -who have called themselves philosophers have done. I do not look upon man merely -as a part of a great machine, one of the wheels or pulleys, or cogs, of the -instrument called society, and that he is bound to regulate all his thoughts, -feelings, and actions by one precise rule, for the benefit of the country in -which he lives, or even for the more extended fellowship called society. There -is a certain degree of individual liberty, surely, due to all men; and, to a -certain point, they have a right to consult their own happiness, even by -indulging their whims and caprices, provided they are not detrimental to others. -The Spartan code and the Prussian system to me both equally tending to take from -man many of his highest qualities and rights; but still, to a certain degree, -man is bound to his fellow-man, as well as to God. I say, <i>as well as to God</i>, -because I know that there are some persons who may not see that the one duty is -a consequence of the other. But I fear I am preaching out of the pulpit," he -continued, with a laugh; "and I must be forgiven as for an infirmity. The habit -of preaching, I fear, is a very encroaching one, which, with the authority that -the calling of teacher gives, renders many of us somewhat domineering in -society."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No one can say that of you," answered Walter Tracy, "But I must defend -myself. I was certainly speaking of the boy's individual happiness, not of his -duty to society."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Can the two be separated?" asked Horace Fleming, in a thoughtful tone. "I -have always myself considered that the greatest amount of happiness on earth, is -only to be obtained by the performance of all duties. I should be sorry to part -with that conviction."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I doubt not it is just," answered General Tracy gravely; "and I would not -seek to take it from you even if I did; for it is a pleasant one, and a most -useful one. But I will only remark in passing, that the most difficult of all -points in ethics, is to define what duties are. So many of those things that we -call duties are but conventional opinions, that I fear a rigid scrutator of the -world's code of obligations would soon strip moral philosophy very bare. As to -society itself, its rules are very much like the common law of England; a code -of maxims accumulated during centuries, by different races, and under different -circumstances, often contradictory, often absurd, continually cruel, frequently -unjust and iniquitous in practice, even when theoretically right, and yet cried -up by those who gain by them as the perfection of human wisdom, to which all men -must submit their acts, and most men do submit their reason. Of one thing I am -very certain, that the aims and objects of society at present, the tendencies -which it encourages, and the rewards which it holds out, are all opposed most -strongly not only to that end which it professes to seek, but to that religion -the excellence of which you are not one to deny--nor I either, be it remarked. -Its tendencies, I contend, are anything but 'to produce the greatest amount of -good to the greatest number,' which philosophers declare to be its object; its -result is anything but to produce 'peace and goodwill amongst men,' which is the -grand purpose of the Christian religion."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Fleming was silent; for he felt that, though he differed in some degree, -there was a certain amount of truth in the assertion. But Mr. Tracy exclaimed, -"I do not understand you, Walter. In what respect does society so terribly -fail?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"In a thousand," answered General Tracy, abruptly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But an instance, but an instance," said his brother.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Look around," replied the other; "do you not see, wherever you turn, even in -this very land of ours, which is not the worst country in the world, that wealth -gives undue power? that it is not the man who labours in any trade who gains the -reward of industry? that the produce of labour is not fairly divided between the -labourer and the wealthy man who employs him? that the laws which regulate that -division are framed by the wealthy? and that an inordinate authority has fallen -into the hands of riches, which keeps the poor man from his rights, drowns his -voice in the senate, frustrates his efforts in the market, defeats his -resistance to oppression, whether it take a lawful or unlawful form?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pooh, pooh, Walter," replied Mr. Tracy; "this is all an affair of -legislation and political economy, and has nothing to do with society."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All laws spring from the state of society in which they are formed, -brother," replied Walter Tracy; "and political economy is but the theory of -certain dealings between man and man. But that society must be a fearful and -iniquitous conspiracy where a few are rolling in riches, living in luxury, and -rioting in idle wantonness, upon the produce of other men's labour who are -suffering all the ills of extreme poverty, if not actually perishing for want. -It is a gross and terrible anomaly, brother Arthur, to see the great mass of a -people nearly destitute; to see many even dying of starvation; to see the honest -and the industrious man unable, by the devotion of his whole time, and the -exertion of all his energies, to obtain sufficient food for his family;--and yet -to see enormous wealth, which, if the fruits of labour were fairly divided, -would feed whole provinces of artizans, accumulating in the hands of a few men -supported entirely by the labour of others. It is, I say, a gross and terrible -anomaly; and it will bring its curse sooner or later."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you surely would not advocate an agrarian law," said Mr. Fleming. "That -chimera has been slain a thousand times."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Far from it!" exclaimed the old officer. "I would touch none of what are -called the rights of property; but I would drive to the winds that most absurd -of all false pretences, invented by the rich for the purpose of oppressing the -poor; namely, that it is wrong and dangerous to interfere between master and -workman. I contend, that instead of wrong and dangerous, it is right and safe; -it is just and necessary. It is right to defend the weak against the strong; it -is safe to ensure that despair does not give overwhelming vigour to the weak. -But the question is not, what I would do. I was asked for an instance of the -evils of the society in which we live. I have given you one, Arthur; but if that -does not suit you, I could give a thousand others. I could show how that -society, of which you are so fond, is wicked and iniquitous in every different -direction, towards the rich as well as the poor; how it encourages vice and -depresses virtue; how it leagues with crime and scouts honesty. I could point to -the same course pursued towards man, and more especially towards woman."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let us run away, dear uncle," cried Rose, "before we are brought upon the -carpet. I am of an excessively rebellious disposition, as you well know; and I -am afraid if I hear any more of such doctrines, I shall revolt against the -powers that be."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The revolt of the roses!" cried her uncle, laughing; and very glad to change -the subject, though it was a hobby. "Heaven forbid such a catastrophe amongst -the flowers! But who would you revolt against, my Rose? Against the gardener, -eh?" and he looked shrewdly from her to Emily, who smiled also. Rose coloured -more than the occasion seemed to warrant; but Mr. Tracy, who was not in the -secret of the gipsey's prophecy, joined in with high praises of his new -gardener's science and taste.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is a stout, good-looking, courageous fellow, as ever lived," said General -Tracy. "Pray, where did you pick him up, Arthur? He is not from this part of the -country, I should imagine, by his tone and manners; for we are not the most -polished, either in demeanour or language."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He came to apply this morning," answered Mr. Tracy; "and brought high -testimonials both of skill and character, from Roberts, the steward of Sir Harry -Winslow, who is dead, you know. I suppose he has served over at Elmsly Park, -though I never thought of inquiring; for I was so much pleased with him, in -every respect, that I engaged him at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Upon my word, things are going on very favourably, Rose," whispered General -Tracy to his niece, in good-humoured malice. "Few sons-in-law are received with -such prepossessions." But he suddenly perceived that Rose's fair face bore a -look of much distress, and stopped at once in his career of raillery, though not -without some surprise.</p> - -<p class="normal">A pause ensued, only interrupted by Mr. Tracy drinking wine with the young -clergyman, and a few quiet words between Fleming and Emily; and then Rose Tracy -asked, with a sort of effort, "How long has Sir Harry Winslow been dead, papa?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I only heard of it yesterday," replied Mr. Tracy. "The funeral is to take -place the day after to-morrow, I hear."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He was a very singular man, was he not?" inquired the young lady.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very," answered her father, laconically; "and by no means a good one. I knew -little of him, never having met him but twice, and then on county business. But -his haughtiness was insufferable, and his manners like ice."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps," said Mr. Fleming, "he knew that he was not liked or respected. For -I have often remarked that men who have placed themselves in a position which -prevents others from desiring their society, affect to reject that which they -cannot obtain."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The fox and the grapes," said Emily, with a smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">"As old as Ćsop!" remarked her uncle; and there the conversation on that head -dropped. Soon after, the dinner came to an end, and the whole party returned to -the drawing-room. Mr. Fleming asked Emily to sing, and seemed delighted with the -sound of her voice. General Tracy sat beside Rose and teazed her; but not about -the gardener any more. And Rose, after having been very thoughtful for some -time, suddenly resumed all her good spirits, sung with her sister, laughed with -her uncle, played a game at chess with her father, and was beat with perfect -good humour. But on the following morning when General Tracy asked her, before -breakfast, to go down with him to the cottage to see the gipsey boy, she at -first made some objection. They were alone. "My dear Rose," said her uncle, -"this is nonsense. You do not suppose for one moment, that though I might joke -you on that silly woman's prophecy, I could think it would have the least effect -upon your mind."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh dear, no!" answered Rose, "I am not so foolish as that, dear uncle; and -if it will give you any pleasure, I will go. But the gardener has nothing to do -with it," she added with a gay smile; "for I happen to know he is not there, and -does not take possession for some days. My maid told me so this morning, without -my asking any questions; so your wicked smile has no point:" and away they went -to the cottage.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER X.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">A fine, tall, broad-fronted house, massy in architecture, and placed upon a -commanding height, in a beautiful park, had all the window-shutters closed along -the principal façade, though a number of people going in and coming out showed -that it was not empty. There was no attempt at decoration to be seen in the -building. All was plain, solid, and severe. Some dark pines on either hand -harmonized with the sternness of the mansion; and the brown oaks and beeches -behind carried off the lines to the wavy hills above. Everything was neat and in -good order around; the trees carefully confined to their exact proportions near -the house, the lawns close mowed, the gravel walks free from the least intrusive -weed. The gardens, with their long lines of green and hot houses, showed care -and expense; and from a distance one would have supposed that the whole open -ground of the park had been lately subject to the scythe, so smooth and trim did -everything look.</p> - -<p class="normal">Within was death.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the state drawing-room, with crimson curtains sweeping down, and panelling -of white and gold, upon a rich Axminster carpet, and surrounded by furniture of -the most gorgeous kind, stood the dull trestles, bearing the moral of all--the -coffin and the pall: splendour and ostentation and luxury without; death and -foulness and corruption within. It was a still homily.</p> - -<p class="normal">The library adjoining was crowded with gentlemen in black--they called it -mourning--and they were eating and drinking cake and wine. Why should they -not?--They would have done the same at a wedding. A little beautiful spaniel -stood upon his hind legs to one of the mourners for a bit of cake. It was thrown -to him; the dog caught it, and the <i>mourners</i> laughed. It was all very well.</p> - -<p class="normal">Suddenly, however, they put on graver faces. Heaven! what a machine of -falsehood is the face! The tongue may lie now and then--the face lies every -minute. There was a little bustle at the door, and several of those near made -way, speaking a few words to a young gentleman who entered, clothed, like the -rest, in black, but with mourning written on his face. Where have we seen that -face before? Is it Chandos? Surely it is. But yet how different is the air and -manner; with what grave, sad dignity he passes on towards the spot at the other -side of the room where Roberts, the steward, is standing, unconscious of his -entrance! And who is that who stops him now, and shakes hands with him warmly, -yet with a timid, half-averted eye--that pale young man with the waving fair hair -around his forehead? Hark! Chandos answers him. "Well, quite well, Faber, I -thank you. I have not been far distant; but I must speak to Roberts for a -moment, and then," he added, slowly and solemnly, "I must go into the next -room."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You had better not, Sir," said Mr. Faber, the late Sir Harry Winslow's -secretary, speaking in a low, imploring tone; "indeed you had better not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do not be afraid, Faber," replied Chandos, "I have more command over myself -now. I was too impetuous then. I was rash and hasty. Now I am calm; and nothing -on earth would provoke me again to say one angry word. I shall ever be glad to -hear of you, Faber; and you must write to me. Address your letters to the care -of Roberts; he will be able to forward them."</p> - -<p class="normal">He was then moving on; but the young man detained him by the hand, saying, in -a whisper, "Oh, think better of it, Chandos. Be reconciled to him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That may be whenever he seeks reconciliation," answered Chandos; "but it -will make no difference in my purposes. I will never be his dependent, Faber; -for I know well what it is to be so."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he turned away, and spoke a few words to the steward; after -which, with a slow but steady step, he walked towards the door leading to the -great drawing-room, opened it, and passed through. Many an eye watched him till -the door was closed; and then the funeral guests murmured together, talking over -his character and history. In the meantime he advanced through the drawing-room, -and stood by the coffin of his father. Then slowly inclining his head to two men -who stood at the opposite door, he bade them leave him for a moment. They -instantly obeyed; and Chandos knelt down and prayed, with one hand resting on -the pall. In a minute or two he heard a step coming, and rose; but did not quit -the room, remaining by the side of the coffin, with his tall head bowed down, -and a tear in his eyes. The next instant the opposite door opened quickly and -sharply, and a man of two or three and thirty entered, bearing a strong family -likeness to him who already stood there, but shorter, stouter, and less -graceful. Though the features were like those of Chandos, yet there was a great -difference of expression--the fierce, keen, eager eye, with its small, contracted -pupil, the firm set teeth, and the curl at the corner of the mouth, all gave a -look of bitterness and irritability from which the face of the other was quite -free.</p> - -<p class="normal">The moment the new comer's eyes rested on Chandos, the habitual expression -grew more intense, deepening into malevolence, and he exclaimed, "You here, -Sir!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, I am, Sir William Winslow," answered the younger man. "You did not -surely expect me to be absent from my father's funeral!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"One never knows what to expect from you or of you," replied his brother. "I -doubt not, you have really come for the purpose of insulting me again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Far from it," replied Chandos, calmly. "I came to pay the last duty to my -parent; to insult no one. It is but for a few hours that we shall be together, -Sir William: let us for that time forget everything but that we are the sons of -the same father and mother; and by the side of this coffin lay aside, at least -for the time, all feelings of animosity."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very well for you to talk of forgetting," answered Sir William Winslow, -bitterly. "I do not forget so easily, Sir. The sons of the same father and -mother!--Well, it is so, and strange, too."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush! hush!" cried Chandos, waving his hand with an indignant look; and, not -knowing what would be uttered next, he turned quickly away, and left the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, he runs," said Sir William Winslow, whose face was flushed, and his brow -knit. "But he shall hear more of my mind before he goes. He said before them all -that he would never consent to be dependent on one who was a tyrant in -everything--to my servants--even to my dogs. Was that not an insult?--I will make -him eat those words as soon as the funeral is over, or he shall learn that I can -and will exercise the power my father left me to the uttermost. It was the -wisest thing he ever did to enable me to tame this proud spirit. Oh, I will -bring it down!--Sons of the same father and mother! On my life, if it were not -for the likeness, I should think he was a changeling. But he is like--very like; -and like my mother, too. It is from her that he takes that obstinate spirit -which he thinks so fine, and calls resolution."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he thus thought, his eyes fell upon the coffin; and he felt a little -ashamed. There is a still, calm power in the presence of the dead which rebukes -wrath; and Sir William Winslow looked down upon the pall, and thought of what -was beneath with feelings that he did not like to indulge, but could not -altogether conquer. He was spared a struggle with them, however; for a minute -had hardly passed after Chandos had left him, when a servant came in, and -advanced to whisper a word in his master's ear.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I am ready," replied Sir William, "quite ready. Where are all the -carriages? I do not see them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They have been taken into the back court," said the man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, then, I am quite ready," repeated the baronet, and retired, but not by -the door which led to the room where the guests were assembled.</p> - -<p class="normal">Half an hour passed in the gloomy preparations for the funeral march. The -callous assistants of the undertaker went about their task with the usual -studied gravity of aspect, and, at heart, the cold indifference of habit to all -the fearful realities which lay hid under the pageantry which their own hands -had prepared out of plumes and tinsel, and velvet and silk. Then came the -display of hearse and mutes and plume-bearers, and the long line of carriages -following with the mourners, who were only in the mercenary point better than -the hired mourners of more ancient days. And the people of the village came out -to stare at the fine sight; and amongst the young, some vague indefinite notion -of there being something solemn and awful under all that decoration might -prevail; but with the great multitude it was but a stage-procession.</p> - -<p class="normal">None thought of what it is to lay the flesh of man amongst the worms, when -the spirit has winged its flight away where no man knoweth.</p> - -<p class="normal">To one person, indeed, amongst those who were carried along after the corpse, -the whole was full of awe. He knew that his father had lived as if the world -were all: he knew not if he had died in the hope of another; and the lessons -early implanted in his heart by a mother's voice, made that consideration a -terrible one for him. Then, too, the gaping crowd was painful to him. And oh, -what he felt when the little village boys ran along laughing and pointing by the -side of the funeral train!</p> - -<p class="normal">They reached the gates of the churchyard, which was wide and well tenanted; -and there the coffin had to be taken out, and Chandos stood side by side with -his brother. Neither spoke to, neither looked at, the other. It was a terrible -thing to behold that want of sympathy between two so nearly allied at the -funeral of a father; but the eye that most marked it, saw that the one was full -of deep and sorrowful thoughts, the other of fierce and angry passions.</p> - -<p class="normal">The moment after, rose upon the air, pronounced by the powerful voice of the -village curate, those words of bright but awful hope, "I am the resurrection and -the life, saith the Lord, he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet -shall he live, and whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die." That -solemn and impressive service, the most beautiful and appropriate, the most -elevating, yet the most subduing that ever was composed--the burial office of the -English church--proceeded; and Chandos Winslow lost himself completely in the -ideas that it awakened. But little manifested were many of those ideas, it is -true; but they were only on that account the more absorbing; and when the words, -"Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in the sure and certain hope of -the resurrection to eternal life," sounded in his ears, a shudder passed over -him as he asked himself--"Had he such a hope?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Most different were the feelings of the man who stood by his side. The -customs of the world, the habits of good society put a restraint upon him; but, -with a strange perversion of the true meaning of the words he heard, and a false -application of them to his own circumstances, he fancied that he was virtuous -and religious when he refrained, even there, from venting his anger in any shape -upon its object; and heard the sentences of the Psalmist, as a. sort of -laudation of his own forbearance. When the clergyman read aloud: "I will keep my -mouth as it were with a bridle, while the ungodly is in my sight," he fancied -himself a second David, and reserved his wrath for the time to come.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length all was over; the dull shovelsfull of earth rattled upon the -coffin; the last "Amen" was said; and the mourners took their way back towards -the carriages, leaving the sexton to finish his work. But when Sir William -Winslow had entered the coach with two other gentlemen, and the servant was -about to shut the door, he put down his head, and asked in a low but fierce -voice, "Where is my brother? Where is Mr. Chandos Winslow?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He went away, Sir William, a minute ago," replied the servant. "He took the -other way on foot."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow cast himself back in the seat, and set his teeth hard; -but he did not utter a word to any one, till he reached Elmsly Park. His -demeanour, however, was courteous to those few persons who were on sufficiently -intimate terms to remain for a few minutes after his return; and to one of them -he even said a few words upon the absence of his "strange brother." His was the -tone of an injured man; but the gentleman to whom he spoke was not without -plain, straightforward good sense; and his only reply was, "Some allowance must -be made, Sir William, for your brother's modification at finding that your -father has left him nothing of all his large fortune; not even the portion which -fell to his mother, on the death of her uncle."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not, Sir, when my father desired me in his will to provide for him -properly," said Sir William Winslow.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, I don't know," answered the other in a careless tone. "No man likes to -be dependent, or to owe to favour that which he thinks he might claim of right. -I have heard, too, that you and Mr. Winslow have not been on good terms for the -last four or five years; but nobody can judge of such matters but the parties -concerned. I must take my leave, however; for I see my carriage, and I have far -to go."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow made a stiff how, and the other departed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now send Roberts to me," said the heir of immense wealth, as soon as every -one of his own rank was gone, speaking of his father's steward and law-agent, as -if he had been a horse-boy in his stable. But the footman to whom he spoke -informed him that Mr. Roberts was not in the house. Sir William Winslow fretted -himself for half-an-hour, when at length it was announced that the steward had -arrived. He entered with his usual calm, deliberate air; and was advancing -towards the table at which the baronet sat, when the latter addressed him -sharply, saying, "I told you, Mr. Roberts, that I should require to speak with -you immediately after the funeral."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have come, Sir William," replied the other, calmly, "as soon as important -business, which could not be delayed, would permit me; and I had hoped to be -here by the time most convenient to you. I did not know that the gentlemen who -returned with you would go so soon."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have kept me half-an-hour waiting, Sir," replied Sir William; "and I do -not like to be kept waiting."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am sorry that it so occurred," answered the steward. "May I ask your -commands?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"In the first place, I wish to know, where is my brother Chandos?" said the -baronet, "I saw him speaking to you in the churchyard."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He did, Sir," replied Roberts, "and he has since been at my house. But where -he now is I cannot tell you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, he has been arranging all his affairs with you, I suppose," said Sir -William Winslow, with a sneer; "and, I suppose, hearing from you of my father -being supposed to have made another will."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, Sir William," replied the steward, perfectly undisturbed. "He did -arrange some affairs with me; gave me power to receive the dividend upon the -small sum in the funds, left him by Mrs. Grant, amounting to one hundred and -sixty-two pounds ten, per annum; and directed me what to do with the books and -furniture, left him by your father. But I did not judge it expedient to tell him -at present, that I know Sir Harry did once make another will; because, as you -say he burnt it afterwards, I imagined such information might only increase his -disappointment, or excite hopes never likely to be realized."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You did right," answered the baronet. "I saw my father burn it with my own -eyes; and I desire that you will not mention the subject to him at all. It is my -intention to let him bite at the bridle a little; and then, when his spirit is -tamed, do for him what my father wished me to do. Have you any means of -communicating with him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">But Mr. Roberts was a methodical man; and he answered things in order. "In -regard to mentioning the subject of the later will, Sir William," he said, "I -will take advice. I am placed in a peculiar position, Sir: as your agent, I have -a duty to perform to you; but as an honest man, I have also duties to perform. I -know that a will five years posterior to that which has been opened, was duly -executed by your father. I think you are mistaken in supposing it was burnt by -him, and--."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By him!" cried the baronet, catching at his words, "do you mean to insinuate -that I burnt it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Far from it, Sir William," was the reply of the steward. "I am sure you are -quite incapable of such an act; and if I had just cause to believe such a thing, -either you or I would not be here now. But, as I have said, my position is a -peculiar one: and I would rather leave the decision of how I ought to act to -others."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have heard my orders, Sir; and you are aware of what must be the -consequence of your hesitating to obey them," rejoined the baronet, nodding his -head significantly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perfectly, Sir William," answered Mr. Roberts; "and that is a subject on -which I wish to speak. When I gave up practice as an attorney, and undertook the -office of steward or agent to your late father, I would only consent to do so -under an indenture which insured me three months clear notice of the termination -of my engagement with him and his heirs, &c.; during which three months I was to -continue in the full exercises of all the functions specified in the document of -which I beg leave to hand you a copy. This I did require for the safety of -myself and of those parties with whom I might enter into engagements regarding -the letting of various farms, and other matters which a new agent might think -fit to overset, unless I had the power of completing legally any contracts to -which your father might have consented, though in an informal manner. Your -father assented, and had, I believe, no cause to regret having done so; as, -without distressing the tenantry, the rental has been raised twenty-seven per -cent, within the last fifteen years. Your father was pleased, Sir William, to -treat me in a different manner from that which you have thought fit to use -within the last week; and I therefore must beg leave to give you notice, that at -the termination of three months I shall cease to be your agent. The indenture -requires a written notice on either part; and therefore I shall have the honour -of enclosing one this afternoon."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow had listened, in silent astonishment, to his steward's -words, and the first feeling was undoubtedly rage; but Mr. Roberts was -sufficiently long-winded to allow reflection to come in, though not entirely to -let anger go out. The baronet walked to the window, and looked out into the -park. Had Mr. Roberts been in the park, he would have seen the muscles of his -face working with passion; but when Sir William, after a silence of two or three -minutes, turned round again, the expression was calm, though very grave.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do not send in the notice," he said; "take another week to consider of it, -Roberts. I have had a good deal to irritate me, a good deal to excite me. I am, -I know, a passionate and irritable man; but--. There, let us say no more of it at -present, Roberts. We will both think better of many things."</p> - -<p class="normal">It is wonderful how often men imagine that by acknowledging they are -irritable, they justify all that irritation prompts. It affords to the male part -of the sex the same universal excuse that nervousness does to so many women. I -am quite sure that many a lady who finds her way into Doctors' Commons, fancies -she broke the seventh commandment from pure nervousness.</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Roberts was not at all satisfied that Sir William Winslow's irritability -would ever take a less unpleasant form; but nevertheless, without reply, he -bowed and withdrew.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XI.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">Our variable skies had cast off their wintry hue, and assumed almost the -aspect of summer. Cloud and storm had passed away. Sleet and rain no longer beat -in the face of the traveller; and though November was growing old, yet the -melancholy month showed himself much more mild and placable in his age than in -his youth: there was a bright, warm smile in the sky, and the sun towards midday -was actually hot. There was a great deal of activity and bustle in the gardens -of Mr. Tracy. The sage old folks in the neighbourhood remarked, that a new broom -swept clean; and the head-gardener was certainly seen from day-break till sunset -in every part of the extensive grounds, directing the labours of the men under -him, and preparing everything against the wintry months that were coming. Mr. -Tracy was delighted. For the first time he saw all his own plans proceeding -rapidly and energetically; for the gardener, with more sound tact than gardeners -usually have, applied himself to execute, alone, what his master proposed or -suggested, but took care it should be executed well, and as rapidly as possible.</p> - -<p class="normal">A new spirit seemed to come into the whole house with the new gardener. -Everybody, but one, although it was certainly an unpropitious season of the -year, seemed to be seized with the mania of gardening. Old General Tracy -himself, after having been confined for four or five days to his room, by the -consequences of his intimacy with farmer Thorp's bull, which he had at first -neglected, but was afterwards compelled to remember, might be seen with a spade -in his hand delving with the rest. Mr. Tracy and Emily were constantly here and -there in the grounds, conversing with the head-gardener, and laying out plans -for immediate or future execution; and the only one who, like the warm beams of -summer, seemed to abandon the garden as winter approached, was Mr. Tracy's -youngest daughter Rose, whose visits were confined to the morning and the -evening, when a task, to which she had accustomed herself from her childhood, -and which she had no excuse for neglecting now, called her down to the end of -what was called "the ladies' walk." This task was, indeed, a somewhat childish -one; namely, to feed a number of beautiful gold and silver fishes collected in a -large marble basin, and sheltered from snow and frost by a not very bad -imitation of a Greek temple.</p> - -<p class="normal">There is a very mistaken notion current, that fish are not overburdened with -plain common sense. We have too few opportunities of observing them to judge; -but Rose's gold and silver fish certainly displayed considerable discrimination. -One would have thought that they knew the sound of her beautiful little feet; -only fish have got no ears. However, as her step approached, they were sure to -swim in multitudes towards her, jostling their scaly sides against each other, -and evidently looking up with interest and pleasure. They did not do the same to -any one else. They came indeed, but came more slowly, if Emily approached; and -hovered at a timid distance from the side if anything in a male garb was seen.</p> - -<p class="normal">Two or three times, whilst standing by the side of the basin, Rose saw the -head-gardener pass by; but he took no further notice of her, than merely by -raising his hat, with a bow, which might have suited a drawing-room as well as a -garden.</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose had become very thoughtful--not at all times--for when she was with the -rest of the family, she was as gay as ever; but when she was in her own room -with a book in her hand, the book would often rest upon her knee unread; and her -eyes would gaze out of the window upon the far prospect, while the mind was very -busy with things within itself. There was something that puzzled Rose Tracy -sadly. What could she be thinking of? Strange to say, Rose was thinking of the -head-gardener; yet she never mentioned his name, even when all the rest were -praising him, marvelling at his taste, at his information, at his manners for a -man in that rank of life. She never went near the places where he was most -likely to be found; and a fortnight passed ere she exchanged a single word with -him.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, one morning, a short conversation, of which it may be necessary to -transcribe only a few sentences, took place at breakfast between her father and -her uncle; which worked a great change in Rose Tracy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It certainly is the most extraordinary will that ever was made," said Mr. -Tracy; "and so unjust, that I cannot think it will be maintained in law. He -leaves his whole property to his eldest son, towards whom he showed nothing but -coldness and dislike for many years, and leaves the second actually nothing but -a mere recommendation to his brother's favour. Now, the whole Elmsly property, -to the amount of at least seventeen thousand a-year, came to him in right of -Lady Jane; and it is generally the custom for the mother's property to descend -to the younger children."</p> - -<p class="normal">"At all events, they should have a fair share of it," answered old Walter -Tracy. "For my part, I would do away with the law of primogeniture altogether. -It is a barbarous and unnatural law. But perhaps Sir Harry, in his eccentric -way, left verbal directions with his eldest son."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not at all, not at all," answered Mr. Tracy. "I understand from Lawrence -Graves, who is their near relation, that Sir William declares he has no -instructions whatever but those contained in the will. And, as Mr. Winslow and -his brother have not been upon good terms for some years, the young gentleman -refuses absolutely to receive any thing from him whatever."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then, in Heaven's name! what will become of him," exclaimed Emily, "if he is -left penniless?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He might have done well enough in many professions," said the General, "if -this had occurred earlier. But he is three or four and twenty now; too old for -the army; and both the church and the bar are sad slow professions; requiring a -fortune to be spent before a pittance can be gained."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What will become of him no one knows," rejoined Mr. Tracy. "But it seems, he -set out for London, with a bold heart, declaring he would carve his way for -himself; and be dependent upon no man."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A fine bold fellow--I like him!" cried the General. "Lily, my love, another -cup of coffee, and more cream, or I will disinherit you."</p> - -<p class="normal">When breakfast was over, Rose ran up to her own room, locked the door, and -sat down and cried. "Then this was the cause," she murmured: "and he must think -me unkind and mean."</p> - -<p class="normal">About two o'clock that day, Rose went out in a little park phćton, with a -small postillion upon the near blood-horse. She had several things to do in the -neighbouring village, about two miles distant: some shops to visit; a girls' -school to look into; and one or two other matters of lady life. Horace Fleming, -too, came up and talked to her for a few minutes, standing by the side of the -phćton.</p> - -<p class="normal">The horses, one and both, agreed that it was very tiresome to be kept -standing so long in the streets of a dull little place like that. As soon as -they were suffered to go on, they dashed away in very gay style towards their -home; but Rose was not likely to alarm herself at a little rapid motion, and the -fastest trot they could go did not at all disturb her. Horses, however, when -they are going homeward, and get very eager, are sometimes more nervous than -their drivers or riders. All went well, then, through the first mile of country -roads, and narrow lanes; but about a quarter of a mile further, a man very like -farmer Thorpe--Rose did not see distinctly, but she thought it was he--pushed his -way through the trees, on the top of the low bank, just before the horses. Both -shied violently to the near side; the small postillion was pitched out of the -saddle into the hedge; and on the two beasts dashed, no longer at a trot, but a -gallop, with the rein floating loose. Rose Tracy did not scream; but she held -fast by the side of the phćton, and shut her eyes. It was all very wrong, but -very natural, for a woman who knew that there were three turns on the road -before the house could be reached, and there, a pair of iron gates, generally -closed. She did not wish to see what her brains were going to be dashed out -against, till it was done, nor to fly further when the phćton overset than -necessary; and therefore, she did as I have said. But after whirling on for two -or three minutes, turning sharp round one corner, and bounding over a large -stone; she felt a sudden check, which threw her on her knees into the bottom of -the phćton, and heard a voice cry, "So ho! stand, boy, stand! so ho! quiet, -quiet!" and opening her eyes, she saw the horses plunging a little and -endeavouring to rear, in the strong grasp of the head-gardener, who held them -tight by the bridles, and strove to soothe them. One of the under-gardeners was -scrambling over the palings of her father's grounds, where the other had passed -before; and in a minute the two fiery bays were secured and quieted.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I hope you are not much hurt or terrified, Miss Tracy," said the -head-gardener, approaching the side, while the other man held the reins; and -Rose saw a look of eager interest in his eyes, and heard it in his voice.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Terrified, I am, certainly, Mr.--Mr. Acton," she said, hesitating at the -name; "but not hurt, thank God! though, I believe I owe my life to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was much alarmed for you," he answered; "for I feared when I saw them -coming, as I stood on the mound, that I should not be in time. But had you not -better get out and walk home. I will open the garden-gate; and then go and look -for the boy. I hope the wheels did not go over him, for I suppose he fell off."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I trust he is not hurt," answered Rose, allowing him to hand her out. "The -horses took fright at a man in the hedge, and threw him; but I think he fell far -from the carriage."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here he comes, Miss," cried the under-gardener; "here he comes, a running. -There's no bones broke there."</p> - -<p class="normal">So it proved: the boy came with a face all scratched, and hands all full of -thorns; but otherwise uninjured, except in temper. Vanity, vanity, the great -mover in half--half! might I not say nine-tenth's?--of man's actions; what -wonderful absurdities is it not always leading us into! All small postillions -are wonderfully vain, whether their expeditions be upon bright bays or hobby -horses; and if they be thrown, especially before the eyes of a mistress, how -pugnacious the little people become! The boy was inclined to avenge himself upon -the horses, and made straight to their heads with his teeth set, and his knotted -whip, newly recovered, in his hand; but the under-gardener was learned in small -postillions, and taking him by the collar, before he could do more than aim one -blow at the poor beasts, he held him at arm's length, saying, "Thou art a fool, -Thomas. The cattle won't be a bit better for licking. They did not intend to -make thee look silly when they sent thee flying."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thomas," cried the voice of Rose, "for shame! If you attempt to treat the -horses ill, I shall certainly inform my father."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, Miss, they might have killed you," answered little vanity, assuming--she -is own sister to Proteus--the shape of generous indignation.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Never mind," answered Rose. "I insist upon it, you treat them gently and -kindly; or depend upon it you will be punished yourself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Half the vicious horses that we see, Miss Tracy," said the head-gardener, -"are made so by man. We are all originally tyrants, I fear, to those who cannot -remonstrate; and the nearer we are to the boy in heart and spirit, the stronger -is the tyrant in our nature. It is sorrow, disappointment, and sad experience -that makes us men."</p> - -<p class="normal">He had forgotten himself for a moment; and Rose forgot herself too. She -looked up in his face and smiled as no lady (except Eve) ever smiled upon a -gardener, without being a coquette.</p> - -<p class="normal">They both recovered themselves in a minute, however; and, walking on in -silence to the garden-gate, about three hundred yards further up the lane, the -gardener opened it with his key and then saw her safely till she was within -sight of the house. Rose paused for a moment, and smiled when he had bowed, and -retired. "This cannot go on," she said. "I may as well speak to him at once, now -I know the circumstance; for this state of things must come to an end. I owe him -life, too; and may well venture to do all I can, and proffer all I can, to -console and assist him. My father, I am sure, would aid him, and my uncle too, -if he would but confide in them." And with half-formed purposes she returned to -the house, and horrified and delighted her sister, who was the only person she -found at home, with an account of her danger and her deliverance.</p> - -<p class="normal">About an hour and a half after, Rose Tracy stood by the basin of gold-fish, -with her little basket of fine bread crumbs in her hand. The fishes were all -gathered near in a herd, looking up to her with more than usual interest in -their dull round eyes--at least so it might have seemed to fancy. Her fair face, -with the large, soft, silky-fringed eyes, was bent over the water; the clusters -of her dark brown hair fell upon her warm cheek, which glowed with a deeper hue, -she knew not why. The light green hat upon her head seemed like the cup of a -bending rose; and any one who saw her might have fancied her the spirit of the -flower whose name she bore.</p> - -<p class="normal">With a careful and equitable hand she scattered the food over the surface of -the water; and never were brighter colours presented by the finny tenants of the -pond of the half marble king of the black islands, than her favourites displayed -as they darted and flashed, sometimes past, sometimes over each other, while a -solitary ray of the setting sun poured through the evergreens, passed between -the columns, and rested on the surface of the water.</p> - -<p class="normal">A slow, quiet, firm step sounded near; and Rose's cheek became a little -paler; but she instantly raised her head, and looked round with a sparkling eye. -The head-gardener was passing from his daily avocations towards his cottage. -Rose paused for a minute, with a heart that fluttered. Then she beckoned to him, -(as he took off his hat respectfully,) and said aloud, "I want to speak with -you."</p> - -<p class="normal">He advanced at once to her side, without the slightest appearance of -surprise; and Rose held out her hand to him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have to thank you for saving my life," she said in a hurried and agitated -tone--much more agitated than she wished it to be, or thought it was; "and I -believe we have all to thank you for saving the life of my dear uncle. But I -should take another time and means of expressing my gratitude, had I not -something else to say. I have a sadly tenacious memory. Let me ask you frankly -and candidly--have we not met before you came here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The head-gardener smiled sorrowfully; but he answered at once. "We have, dear -Miss Tracy, in other scenes and other circumstances. We met at the Duchess of -H----'s: a day which I shall never forget, and which I have never forgotten. And I -had the happiness of passing more than one hour entirely with you. For, if you -remember, the crowd was so great that we could not find your aunt; and you were -cast upon tedious company as your only resource."</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose smiled, and answered not the latter part of his reply; but with a -varying colour, and in broken, embarrassed phrase, went on as follows:--"You -thought I had forgotten your appearance, Mr. Winslow; but, as I have said, I -have a sadly tenacious memory, and I recollected you at once. I could not -conceive what was the cause of what I saw--of why or how you could be here--in--in -such circumstances--and it puzzled and--and embarrassed me very much; for I -thought--I was sure--that if I mentioned what I knew, it might be painful to -you--and yet to meet often one whom I had known in such a different position, -without a word of recognition--might seem--I do not know what, but very strange."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thank you deeply for your forbearance," replied Chandos, "and I will -beseech you, dear Miss Tracy, not to divulge the secret you possess to anyone. -If you do, it will force me immediately to quit your father's service, and to -abandon a scheme of life--a whim, if you will, which--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"My father's service!" cried Rose, eagerly. "Oh, Mr. Winslow, why should you -condemn yourself to use such words. It is only this morning that I have heard -your history; but indeed, indeed, such a situation becomes you not. Oh, be -advised by one who has a title--the title of deep gratitude, to obtrude advice. -Tell my father, when he comes to-morrow to thank you for saving his child's -life, who you are. He already knows how hardly, how iniquitously you have been -used, and this very day was expressing his sense of your wrongs. Oh tell him, -Mr. Winslow! You will find him kind, and feeling, and ready, I am sure, to do -anything to counsel and assist you. Pray, pray do!" and Rose Tracy laid her fair -beautiful hand upon his arm in her eager petitioning.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos took it in his and pressed it, not warmly, but gratefully. "Thank -you; a thousand times thank you," he answered. "Such sympathy and such kindness -as you show, are worth all the assistance and the encouragement that the whole -world could give. Yet forgive me for not following your advice. I am poor, Miss -Tracy; but not so poor as to render it necessary for me to follow this humble -calling for support. I am quite independent of circumstances. A relation left me -sufficient for existence some years ago. My father bequeathed me a fine library -and some other things of value. But it is my wish to try a different mode of -life from that to which I have been accustomed. I will confess to you," he -added, "that when I came here, I had no idea you were Mr. Tracy's daughter, or -perhaps I should not have come--"</p> - -<p class="normal">Her colour varied, and he went on--"The same causes," he said, with a rapid -and hasty voice, "which, had my expectations, reasonable or unreasonable, been -fulfilled, might have brought me hither eagerly, would, in changed -circumstances, have prevented me from coming. But enough of this. I will not -trouble you with all my motives and my views--call them whims, call them follies, -if you like; but I will only say that I wish, for a short time, to give my mind -repose from the daily round of thoughts to which every man moving in one -particular circle alone is subject, which grind us down and fashion our very -hearts and spirits into artificial forms, till we deem everything that is -conventional right, and, I fear, are apt to imagine that everything which is -natural is wrong. I wish to see all objects with different eyes from those with -which I have hitherto seen them; or, perhaps, to use a more rational figure, I -would fain place myself on a new spot in the great plain of society, whence I -can obtain a sight of the whole under a different point of view. I have looked -down at the world from the hill, dear Miss Tracy, I am determined now to look up -at it from the valley."</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose smiled with a look of interest, but yet a look of melancholy; and -shaking her head she answered, "You will soon be found out for a mountaineer; -they are already wondering at you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That I cannot help," replied Chandos. "But at all events give me as much -time as possible; and if you would really oblige me, do not mention to any one -who and what I am. Let me be the gardener still--except when, perhaps, at such a -moment as this, you will condescend to remember me as something else."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I am bound to keep your secret," said Rose; "or, indeed, to do much -more, if I knew how. But my father must express both his own and his daughter's -gratitude for the preservation of her life; and in the meantime I will of course -be silent as to your name and character. But had I not better, Mr. Winslow, let -you know, if I perceive any probability of your being discovered?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That would indeed be a great favour," replied Chandos; "for circumstances -might occur which would render discovery not only painful, but highly -detrimental."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then I will give you warning of the first suspicion," answered Rose. "And -now farewell; for it is nearly dark, and the dinner bell will soon ring."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos bent down his head, and kissed her hand. It was the first act -touching in the least upon gallantry which he had permitted himself; but it -called the colour into Rose's cheek; and with another farewell, she left him.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XII.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">It was evening. The cottage fire blazed bright and warm. Two tallow candles -were upon the table; for Chandos loved light, and burnt two tallow candles. -Moreover, the people of the hamlet thought him a great man because he did so. -Such is the appreciation of the world--such the all-pervading influence of the -spirit of the country and the times--such the admiration of money in the <i>United</i> -Kingdom! of Great Britain and Ireland, that the neighbouring peasantry thought -him a much greater man than the last head-gardener, because he burnt two tallow -candles, and the last burnt only one. Take it home to you, ye gentlemen in -Grosvenor-square. Your services of gilded plate, your rich dinners, your -innumerable lackeys, (none below six feet two), which gain you such envious -reverence from those who use Sheffield plate, and content themselves with a -foot-boy, is nothing more than the burning of two tallow candles, in the eyes of -your inferiors in wealth. Be vain of it, if you can!</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a neat row of books upon a shelf, against the little parlour wall. -Many related to gardening; but there was Shakespeare and Milton, Ben, Beaumont -and Fletcher, Herrick and Donne, and Cowley. Ranged near, too, were seen, in -good old bindings, Virgil and Horace, Lucan, Tibullus, Martial, and Cicero. Ovid -was not there; for Chandos had no taste for gods and goddesses <i>en bagnio</i>. -Homer and Lucretius were put behind the rest, but where they could be got at -easily.</p> - -<p class="normal">There were tea-cups and saucers on the table; and the old woman who had been -hired to keep his house orderly, and attend upon little Tim, after he had become -a denizen of the cottage, was boiling the water in the adjoining kitchen.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Great A," said Chandos; and, out of a number of pasteboard letters on the -floor, the boy brought one, saying, "Great A. It looks like the roof of a -house."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Great B," repeated his self-installed master; and the boy brought great B, -remarking that it was like two sausages on a skewer. For every letter he had -some comparison; and it is wonderful how rapidly by his own system of mnemonics -he had taught himself to recollect one from the other.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now for the little bit of catechism, Tim," said the young gentleman; "then a -piece of bread-and-jam, and to bed."</p> - -<p class="normal">The boy came and stood at his knee, as if it had been a father's, and -repeated a few sentences of the First Catechism, in answer to Chandos's -questions; and the young gentleman patted his head, gave him the thick-spread -bread-and-jam, and was dismissing him to the care of Dame Humphreys, when the -room-door was quietly pushed open--it had been ajar--and the tall, fine form of -Lockwood appeared.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, Lockwood! good evening," said Chandos. "Why, you are a late visitor.--But -what is the matter? You seem agitated."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nothing, nothing. Sir," answered the other. "Only, to see you and the little -boy, put me in mind of my poor mother; and how she used to cry sometimes when -she was teaching me my catechism, long before I could understand that it made -her think that she had been wronged, and had done wrong, too, herself. But who -is the lad? if it be not an impertinent question. He's not one of your own -angles?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not understand you, Lockwood," replied Chandos, in some surprise. "If -you mean to ask, whether he is a child of mine, I say, 'Certainly not.' Do you -not see he is eight or nine years old?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I call all children angles," answered Lockwood, smiling, "because they are -the meeting of two lines. You, for instance, are an isosceles angle, because the -two sides are equal. I am not, you know; which is a misfortune, not a fault. But -whose son is the boy? He seems a fine little fellow."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos explained, and his explanation threw Lockwood into a fit of musing. -During its continuance, his half-brother had an opportunity of examining what it -was which had effected, since they last met, a considerable difference in his -personal appearance; and at length he interrupted his meditation by observing, -"I see you have let your whiskers grow, Lockwood."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes," replied the other. "Yours pleased me; and so I determined to be -<i>barbatus</i> also. Why men should shave off their beards at all I cannot divine. -Saints and patriarchs wore them. All the greatest men in the world have worn -them, with the exception of Newton, Moses, Mahomet, Friar Bacon, King Alfred, -and Numa Pompilius, were all bearded, as well as Bluebeard, that strict -disciplinarian, with Mr. Muntz, and his brother, the Shah of Persia, and Prester -John, who, if we knew his whole history, was probably the greatest man amongst -them. But whiskers must do for the present. Perhaps I shall come to a whole -beard in time. I have brought you a leash of teal, and some news; for which you -shall give me a cup of tea."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can give you a bed, too," answered Chandos; "for, thanks to your good -care, all the rooms are furnished now."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not for me," answered Lockwood: "I am back by moonlight. The goddess rises -at eleven, I think; and I will be her Carian boy to-night--only I will not sleep, -but walk while she kisses my brow."</p> - -<p class="normal">Another cup was brought, and Chandos added some more tea to the infusion. His -companion seemed in a somewhat wandering mood of mind, and many were the -subjects started before he came to the news which he had to tell. "What capital -tea!" he said. "Mine is but sage and sloe leaf to this. How we go on -adulterating! There is not a thing now-a-day that we eat or drink which is pure. -Good things become condemned by the foul imitations which men sell for them; and -the cheatery of the multitude robs the honest man of his due repute. Instead of -standing out in bright singularity, he is confounded in the mass of rogues. -Short measure, false weights, diminished numbers, forged tickets, fictitious -representations, adulterated goods, and worthless fabrications, are the things -upon which the once glorious British trader now thrives. But it is only for a -little day. Found out, he will soon be despised; despised, neglected; and -neglected, ruined--or, at least, if it touches not this generation, it will the -next."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, my good friend, it is not the British trader or manufacturer alone," -answered Chandos; "I can tell you, by having travelled a good deal, that it is -the spirit of the age, and pervades the whole world, except in its most -uncivilized districts. You can depend upon nothing that you buy. A rich -traveller orders his bottle of Champagne at an inn, and is charged an enormous -price for a deleterious beverage prepared within half-a-dozen yards of the spot -where he drinks it, though that may be five hundred miles from Champagne. A -spirit drinker requires a glass of brandy, gets some fermented juice of the -potato, and is charged for <i>old Cognac</i>. Another asks for Saxony linen, and -receives a mixture of cotton and lint that is worn out in half the time which -would be required to use the article he paid for. Every man in Europe, with a -very few exceptions, thinks only of present gain, without regard to honesty or -future reputation."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He will kill the goose with the golden eggs," said Lockwood.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He cares not for that," answered Chandos. "The grand principle of action in -the present day was developed nearly forty years ago, when one of a family, the -wittiest perhaps that ever lived, and the one which most quickly seized the -feelings of their times, asked, 'What did posterity ever do for me?' That is the -secret of everything strange that we see around us. Each man lives alone for his -own earthly life: he cares not either for those who come after, or for remote -reputation, or for a world that is to come. In regard to the first, he thinks, -'They will take care of themselves, as I have done.' In regard to the second he -says, 'It is a bubble that, as far as I am concerned, breaks when I die.' In -regard to the third, his ideas are indefinite; and while he admits that there -may be an hereafter, he takes his chance, and says, 'A bird in the hand is worth -two in the bush.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, so it was with Mr. Parkington, the rich manufacturer who bought -Greenlees, close by Winslow, and died there," said Lockwood. "When he was upon -his death-bed, the parson of the parish went to console him, and talked of the -joys of Heaven. He spoke too finely for the old spinner, I've a notion; for -after he had told him of eternal happiness in the knowledge and love of God, the -sick man raised his gray head and said, 'Thank you, thank you, Mr. Wilmington; -but, after all, <i>Old England fur my money!</i>'"</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos could not refrain a smile. "Too true a picture," he said, "of the -mind of a money-getting man. But the state of our society is in fault in giving -such a bias to human weakness. We are taught from the earliest period of our -lives to think that the great object of existence is money, and what money can -procure. The whole tendency of the age, in short, is material; and political -economists, while systematizing one class of man's efforts, have (unwittingly, I -do believe) left out of all consideration the higher and more important duties -and efforts which his station in creation imposes upon him. Were man but the -most reasoning of animals, such systems might do very well; but for those who -believe him to be something more, who know, or feel, or hope that he is a -responsible agent, to whom powers are confided in trust for great purposes, a -system that excludes or omits all the wider relations of spirit with spirit, -which takes no count of man's immortal nature, which overlooks his dependence -upon God and his accountability to Him, is not only imperfect, but corrupt. It -may be said that it teaches man but one branch of the great social science; and -that to mix the consideration of others with it, would but embarrass the -theories which in themselves are right; but when a system affects the whole -relations of man with his fellow-creatures, such an argument is inadmissible, -upon the broad ground of reason, if it be admitted that man is more than a -machine, and most vicious, if it be allowed that he is an accountable being -under a code of laws divine in their origin. These two questions are inseparable -from every argument affecting the dealings of man with man. Let those who reason -either admit or deny our immortality. If they deny, they may be right, I say -nought against it; and their reasoning regarding the machine, <i>man</i>, would in -most instances be very fair;--but if they admit, they must take a wider grasp of -the subject, and show that their doctrines are compatible with his -responsibility to God."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It would be wide enough and difficult enough," answered Lockwood. "But it is -a science of which I understand nothing. It seems to have taught us more of the -acquisition of wealth, than the acquisition of happiness; and to lead inevitably -to the accumulation of money in few hands, without tending to its -after-distribution amongst many. This is all I have seen it do yet."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And that is a great evil," replied Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A great evil, indeed," answered Lockwood, laughing. "For instance: your -brother is a great deal too rich; and it would be a capital thing, if his -property were distributed."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos thought for a moment or two, very gravely, and then replied: "I envy -him not, Lockwood. Perhaps you may think it strange; but, I assure you, what I -am going to say is true: I would a great deal rather be as I am, with the poor -pittance I possess, than my brother with his thoughts and feelings, and all his -wealth. There must be things resting on his mind, which, to me at least, would -embitter the richest food, and strew with thorns the softest bed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, I know what you mean," answered Lockwood; "I heard of it at the time: -seven or eight years ago. You mean that story of Susan Grey, the Maid of the -Mill, as they called her, who drowned herself."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos nodded his head, but made no reply; and Lockwood went on,</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, I remember her well; she was as pretty a creature as ever I saw, and -always used to put me in mind of the ballad of the 'Nut-brown Maid.' You know, -the old man died afterwards. He never held up his head after your brother took -her away. He became bankrupt in two years, and was dead before the third was -over. And the ruins of the mill stand upon the hill, with the wind blowing -through the plankless beams, as through a murderer's bones in chains on a -gibbet. But, after all, though it was a very bad case, Sir William was but -following his father's example. The Greeks used to say, 'Bad the crow, bad the -egg!' and he trod in Sir Harry's footsteps."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no, no!" said Chandos, vehemently; "my father might seduce, but he did -not abandon to neglect and scorn. He might carry unhappiness--and he did--to many -a hearth; but he did not, for the sake of a few pitiful pounds, cast off to -poverty and misery the creature he had deluded. I know the whole story, -Lockwood. This was the cause of the first bitter quarrel between my brother and -myself. I was a boy of but seventeen then. But often I used to stop at the mill, -when out shooting, and get a draught of good beer from the miller, or his pretty -daughter. I was very fond of the girl, not with an evil fondness; for, as I have -said, I was a boy then, and she was several years older than myself. But I -thought her very beautiful and very good, blithe as a lark, and, to all -appearance, innocent as an early summer morning. I saw her but two days before -she went away; I saw her, also, on the very day of her death, when she returned, -pale, haggard, in rags that hardly hid the proofs of her shame, to seek some -compassion from him who had ruined and deserted her; ay, and driven her mad. It -was I, who went in and told him she was in the park; and I did so fiercely -enough, perhaps. He called me an impertinent fool; but went out to speak to her, -while I ran hastily to my own room to bring her what little store of money I -had; for I doubted my brother. What passed between them I do not well know; but, -when I came to where they stood in the park, under the lime trees, not far from -the high bank over the river, my brother's face was flushed and his look -menacing; he was speaking fiercely and vehemently; and in a moment the girl -turned from him and ran away up the bank. I followed to console and give her -assistance, never dreaming of what was about to happen; but when I came up, I -found some labourers, who were at work there, running down the little path to -the river side. One of them had his coat and hat off, and, to my surprise, -plunged into the water. But I need not tell you more of that part of the story; -for you know it all already. I went back to the house, and straight to my -father's room, and I told him all. There, perhaps, I was wrong; but indignation -overpowered reflection, and I acted on the impulse of the moment. A terrible -scene followed: my brother was sent for; my father reproached him bitterly for -his ungenerous abandonment of the poor girl. He again turned his fury upon me, -and struck me; and, boy as I was, I knocked him down at a blow before my -father's face. Perhaps it is a just punishment for that violence, that to his -generosity my fate in life was left. But yet it is very strange; for my father -never forgave him; and me he was always fond of."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very strange, indeed," answered Lockwood. "But this brings us by a diagonal -line to what I have got to tell you. Mr. Roberts has been over at the Abbey for -these last two days, and is putting all things in order. A number of the tenants -have been sent for, especially those who have not got leases, but stand upon -agreements; and he has given them to know, that he is likely to quit your -brother's service at the end of three months."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" exclaimed Chandos. "I am sorry for that. But yet it does not much -surprise me. He and William are not made to act together. What else has he -done?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, he has behaved very well," answered Lockwood; "and I believe he is an -honest man. He left the people to judge for themselves, whether they would -demand leases upon their agreements, or not. But it has got abroad, that the -Abbey is to be immediately pulled down, all the furniture sold, and perhaps the -estates sold too. At all events, the park is to be divided into two farms; -though Mr. Roberts laughed and said, he did not know who would take them, with -my rights of free warren over both."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos leaned his head upon his hand, and closed his eyes with a look of -bitter mortification. "This is sad," he said, at length: "the fine old Abbey, -which has been in our family for three centuries! Well, well! Every one has a -bitter cup to drink at some time; and this, I suppose, is the beginning of mine. -Everything to be sold, did you say, Lockwood? The family pictures and all?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"All of them," answered Lockwood; "everything but what is left to you: that -is, the furniture of those two rooms and the books."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must have my mother's picture, let it cost what it will," said Chandos. "I -will write to Roberts about it, if you will give him the note."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, there is time enough," rejoined his half-brother; "the sale won't take -place for some weeks yet. In the mean time we must think of placing the books -and bookcases, and all the rest of the things, in some secure place; and next -time I come over, I will go and talk to Mr. Fleming about it. Here is the -inventory I took of the things. Roberts went over it with me and signed it, as -you see. He says, you may be rich enough after all; for, besides the books, -which he estimates at seven thousand pounds, he declares that the marble things -in the library are very valuable; and calls the little pictures in the study, -gems. I don't know what he means by that; for to me, they seem as exactly like -places, and things, and people I have seen a hundred times, as possible. There's -an old woman looking out of the window, with a bottle in her hand, that, if the -dress were not different, I could swear, was a picture of my grandmother. -However, he vows it is worth a mint of money, though it is not much bigger than -a school-boy's slate."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The Gerard Dow," said Chandos, smiling. "It is very valuable, I believe; but -I am so covetous, that I do not think I can make up my mind to part with any of -them. You must see to their being well packed up, Lockwood; for the least injury -to such pictures is fatal. The books also must be taken great care of, -especially those in the glazed bookcases."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay; but have you got the keys?" asked Lockwood. "Mr. Roberts was asking for -them, and says he does not know where they are."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have them not," answered Chandos; "I never had. My brother has them, most -likely."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," answered Lockwood; "he gave all the keys belonging to the Abbey to Mr. -Roberts; and these are not amongst them. But the locks can easily be picked. I -have always remarked, when people die, or change their house, the keys go -astray. But there's some one tapping at the door; and so I shall go."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, stay," cried Chandos; "I should like to write that note to Roberts at -once: I would not have that picture of my mother go into other hands, for all I -possess. Come in!" and as he spoke, the door of the room opened, and the head of -the gipsey-woman, Sally Stanley, was thrust in.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are not afraid of a gipsey at this time of night, master gardener?" said -the woman with a smile. "I want to see my boy, and give him a kiss; for we are -off at day-break to-morrow."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lockwood stared at her, with a sort of scared look, as if her race stood -higher in his fears than estimation, and shook his head suspiciously; while -Chandos replied: "No, no, Sally, I am not afraid. Go into that room; and the old -woman will take you to your boy. He is getting on very well, and knows his -alphabet already."</p> - -<p class="normal">The woman nodded her head, well pleased; and, with a glance from the face of -Chandos to that of his guest, walked on towards the door of the kitchen.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, Chandos," said Lockwood, "let me have the note."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young gentleman raised his finger as a caution to his half-brother not to -mention aloud the name which he no longer bore. But the warning was too late; -the name was pronounced, and the gipsey-woman heard it.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XIII.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">Time flew rapidly with both Chandos Winslow and Rose Tracy. They knew not -what had thus now plumed the great decayer's pinions for him. Chandos thought -that, in his own case, it was, that he had assumed one of those old primeval -occupations which in patriarchal days made the minutes run so fast that men -lived a thousand years as if they had been but seventy. There was nothing for -him like the life of a gardener.</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose was somewhat more puzzled to account for the cheerful passing of the -minutes. When she had been a hundred times more gay, which was, upon a fair -calculation, some six weeks before, she had often called the hours lazy-footed -loiterers; but now they sped on so fast--so fast--she hardly knew that the year -was nearly at the end. She was now as much in the garden as her father, her -sister, or her uncle. Whenever they were there, she was with them. When they -talked to the head-gardener, she talked to him too; and sometimes a merry smile -would come upon her warm little lips, of which her companions did not well see -the cause. But Rose was seldom in the garden alone--never indeed but at the two -stated times of the day when she went to feed her gold-fishes. That she could -not help. It must be deeply impressed upon the reader's mind--ay, and reiterated, -that from childhood this had been her task; and it was quite impossible that she -could abandon it now--at least, so thought Rose.</p> - -<p class="normal">Every morning, then, and every evening, she visited the little basin, and -hung over her glossy favourites for several minutes. Well was she named--for she -was like her name--and very seldom has the eye of man beheld anything more fair -than Rose Tracy as she looked down upon the water under the shade of the marble -dome above: the soft cheek like the heart of a blush rose, the clustering hair -falling like moss over her brow, the bending form, graceful as the stem of a -flower.</p> - -<p class="normal">I know not how fate, fortune, or design had arranged it; but so it was, that -the hours when Chandos returned to his cottage, either in the morning to -breakfast, or in the evening to rest, were always a few minutes after the -periods when Rose visited the basin; and his way at either time was sure to lie -near that spot. If Emily was with her, as sometimes happened, the head-gardener -doffed his hat and passed on. If Rose was alone, Chandos Winslow paused for a -time, resumed his station and himself, and enjoyed a few sweet moments of -unreserved intercourse with the only person who knew him as he really was.</p> - -<p class="normal">The strange situation in which they were placed, their former meeting in a -brighter scene, the future prospects and intentions of one, at least, of the -parties to those short conversations, furnished a thousand subjects apart from -all the rest of the world's things, which had the effect that such mutual stores -of thought and feeling always have--they drew heart towards heart; and Chandos -soon began to feel that there was something else on earth than he had calculated -upon to struggle for against the world's frowns.</p> - -<p class="normal">Yet love was never mentioned between them. They talked confidingly and -happily; they did not know that they met purposely; there was a little timidity -in both their bosoms, but it was timidity at their own feelings, not in the -slightest degree at the fact of concealment. She called him Mr. Winslow, and he -called her Miss Tracy, long after the names of Chandos and Rose came first to -the lip.</p> - -<p class="normal">The quiet course of growing affection, however, was not altogether -untroubled--it never is. A gay party came down to Mr. Tracy's, to eat his dinners -and to shoot his pheasants. There were battues in the morning, and music and -dancing in the evening; and the wind wafted merry sounds to the cottage of the -gardener. Chandos was not without discomfort; not that he longed to mix again in -the scenes in which he had so often taken part, to laugh with the joyous, to -jest with the gay. But he longed to be by the side of Rose Tracy; and when he -thought of her surrounded by the bright, the wealthy, and the great; when he -remembered that she was beautiful, graceful, captivating, one of the -co-heiresses of a man of great wealth; when he recollected that there was no tie -between him and her, he began to fear that the bitterest drops of the bitter cup -of fortune were yet to be drank.</p> - -<p class="normal">He knew not all which that cup might still contain.</p> - -<p class="normal">When they went not out early to shoot, the guests at Northferry House -sometimes would roam through the grounds, occasionally with their inviter or his -daughters, occasionally alone; and one day, when an expedition to a high moor in -the neighbourhood, where there was excellent wild shooting, had been put off -till the afternoon, a gay nobleman, who fluttered between Emily and Rose, -perfectly confident of captivating either or both if he chose, exclaimed as they -all left the breakfast table, "I shall go and talk to your gardener, Tracy. Such -a fellow must be a curiosity, as much worth seeing as a bonassus.--A gardener who -talks Latin and quotes poetry! Upon my life you are a favoured man! Will you not -go and introduce me, Miss Tracy, to this scientific son of Adam, whom your -father has told me of."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Excuse me, my lord," answered Emily, "your lordship will need no -introduction. I have a letter to write for post."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Will not the fair Rose take compassion on me, then?" asked Viscount Overton. -"Who but the Rose should introduce one to the gardener?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Roses are not found on the stalk in the winter, my good lord," replied -General Tracy for his niece, who, he saw, was somewhat annoyed. "But I will be -your introducer, if needful, though, according to the phrase of old playwrights -and novelists, a gentleman of <i>your figure</i> carries his own introduction with -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"General, you are too good," replied the other, with an air of mingled -self-satisfaction and persiflage. "But really that was an excellent jest of -yours--I must remember it--Roses are not found <i>on the stalk</i> in the winter! -Capital! Do you make many jests?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"When I have fair subjects," answered Walter Tracy, with perfect good humour. -"But let us go, Viscount, if you are disposed. We shall find Mr. Acton in the -garden at this time. It is a pity you are not an Irishman; for he is the best -hand at managing a bull I ever saw."</p> - -<p class="normal">As they went, the story of the adventure with Farmer Thorpe's wild beast was -related, much to the delight of Lord Overton, who was a man of a good deal of -courage and spirit, though overlaid with an affectation of effeminacy; and by -the time it was done, they were by the side of Chandos. General Tracy informed -the head-gardener who the noble lord was, and jestingly launched out into an -encomium of his taste for and knowledge of gardening.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can assure you, Mr. Acton," said Lord Overton, in a tone of far too marked -condescension, "that, though the General makes a jest of it, I am exceedingly -fond of gardening, and both can and do take a spade or rake in hand as well as -any man."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am glad to hear it, my lord," replied Chandos, who did not love either his -look or his manner; "our nobility must always be the better for some manly -employments."</p> - -<p class="normal">The Viscount was a little piqued, for there certainly was somewhat of a sneer -in the tone; and he replied, "But I hear that you, my good friend, occasionally -vary your labours with more graceful occupations--studying Latin and Greek, and -reading the poets, thinking, I suppose, 'Ingenuas didicisse fideliter, artes, -emollit mores, nec sinit esse feros.' I dare say you know where the passage is."</p> - -<p class="normal">"In the Eton Latin Grammar," answered Chandos, drily; and turning to one of -the under-gardeners, he gave him some orders respecting the work he was about.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He does not seem to have had his manners much softened," said Lord Overton -in a low voice to Walter Tracy. But the General only replied by a joyous peal of -laughter; and, though the peer would not suffer himself to be discomfited, and -renewed the conversation with Chandos, he could win no sign of having converted -him to a belief, that he was at all honoured by his condescension.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He's a radical, I suppose," said Lord Overton, when they turned away. "All -these self-taught fellows are radicals."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, there you are mistaken, my good lord," answered Walter Tracy; "he is a -high tory. That is the only bad point about him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, General! you always were a terrible whig," said the Viscount, with a -shake of the head.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And always shall be," replied his companion, with a low and somewhat cynical -bow; "though the great abilities I see ranged on the other side may make me -regret that I am too old and too stiff to change."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, one is never too old to mend," said Lord Overton; "and one never should -be too stiff. That harsh, violent, obstinate adherence to party is the bane of -our country."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Surely your lordship has no occasion to complain of it in our days," -observed the General. "If one read the speeches of the present men, delivered -twenty, fifteen, ten years ago, and mustered them according to their opinions of -that date, where should we find them? But I am no politician. It only strikes me -that the difference of the two great parties is this, if I may use some military -phraseology: the whigs, pushing on, bayonet in hand, are a little in advance of -their first position. Their opponents are scattered all over the field, some -fighting, some flying, and more surrendering to the enemy. But, to return, this -young man, as I have said, seems to me a very rabid tory--I beg your pardon--but a -very honest fellow, notwithstanding."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The two things are quite compatible, General," said the Viscount, stiffly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, perfectly," replied Walter Tracy. "As long as tories remain tories they -are very honest people; but when they have turned round two or three times, I do -not know what they are."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lord Overton did not like the conversation, and changed it; and the two -gentlemen returned to the house. Not many days after he took his departure for -London, not quite able to make up his mind whether Rose or Emily, or either, was -qualified by wealth, beauty, and grace to become Viscountess Overton. After -three days thought in London, he decided that neither was, upon the -consideration of the great moral objection that exists to men of rank marrying -<i>Misses</i>, especially where that most horrible denomination is not corrected by -the word honourable before it. If Emily had been even a maid of honour, so that -her name might have appeared in the newspapers as the Honourable Miss Tracy, he -might have consented; but as it was, he judged decidedly it would be a -<i>mesalliance</i>, although Mr. Tracy's direct ancestors stood upon the rolls of -fame, when his own were herding cattle.</p> - -<p class="normal">He saved himself a very great mortification; for, to be rejected when a man -mistakenly thinks he is condescending, is the bitterest draught with which false -pride can be medicined.</p> - -<p class="normal">Both Emily and Rose Tracy were very glad when the peer was gone, for his -fluttering from one to the other (though he annoyed Emily most) had much the -same effect as having a bee or large fly in the room; but there was another -person in the neighbourhood who rejoiced still more, and that was Horace -Fleming. He had dined twice at Mr. Tracy's while the party of visitors were -there, and he did not at all approve of Lord Overton's attentions to Emily. -Chandos Winslow was not sorry, for although he had not such definite cause for -uneasiness as Fleming, yet that little god of love, whom we hear so much of, and -so seldom see, is not only a metaphysical god, but a very irritable god too. The -sight of Rose Tracy had always been pleasant to him during the whole time he had -been in Mr. Tracy's service. Her beautiful little ancle and tiny foot, as she -walked along the paths, had to his fancy the power of calling up flowers as it -passed. Her smile had seemed to him to give back summer to the wintry day; the -light of her eyes to prolong the sunshine, and make the twilight bright. In the -morning she was his Aurora, in the evening his Hesperus; and in a word, in the -space of six weeks and a day, Chandos Winslow had fallen very much in love. But -it must be remarked, that the odd day mentioned, was far detached from the six -weeks, dating nearly one year before. It had been an epocha which he had always -remembered however--one of the green spots in the past. A lovely and intelligent -girl, fresh, and unspoiled by the great corruptor of taste, feeling, and -mind--fashionable society--had been cast upon his care and attention for several -hours, in a crowd which prevented her from finding her own party at a fęte. They -had danced together more than was prudent and conventional, because they did not -well know what else to do; and the little embarrassment of the moment had only -excited for her an additional interest over and above that created by youth, -beauty, grace, and innocence. At the end of the evening, she had passed from his -sight like a shooting star, as he thought, for ever. But he remembered the -bright meteor, and its rays sometimes even had visited him in sleep. Thus that -day had as much to do with the love of the case as the far-detached six weeks; -though they had served to ripen, and perfect, and mature a passion of which but -one solitary seed had been sown before.</p> - -<p class="normal">Four days after Lord Overton had departed, and three after the rest of the -guests had taken flight, Chandos saw Rose through the trees come along towards -the marble basin with a quicker step than usual. The little velvet and -chinchilla mantle was pressed tight over her full, fine bosom, to keep out the -cold wind of the last day of the year; but there was an eager look in her bright -eyes which made him think that her rapid pace had other motives than mere -exercise; and he, too, hurried his steps, to reach the spot to which her steps -tended, at the same time as herself. Just as they both approached it, however, -one of the under-gardeners came up to ask a question of his superior officer. He -got a quick but kindly answer; but then he asked another; and that was answered -too. The devil was certainly in the man; for, having nothing more to say to -Chandos, he turned to Rose, and inquired whether she would not like the screens -put up to keep the pond from the cold wind; and by the time he had done, General -Tracy appeared, and took possession of his niece's ear.</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose went away with a slower step and less eager look than she came. But -Chandos took care to be near the little basin at the time of sunset, marking out -some alterations in the surrounding shrubs which he intended to propose against -the spring. When Rose appeared, Emily was with her; and Chandos was again -disappointed. He showed the two fair girls, however, what he intended to suggest -to their father; and, for one single moment, while Emily, taking the basket, -scattered some crumbs to her sister's favourites, Rose followed the -head-gardener to a spot which he thought might be well opened out, to give a -view beyond; and then, she said, in a low, hurried tone, "I am going to do what -perhaps is not right; but I must speak to you to-morrow morning, at all risks. I -will be here half-an-hour earlier than usual;" and with limbs shaking as if she -had committed theft, Rose left him, and hurried back to her sister, ere Emily -well perceived that she had left her side.</p> - -<p class="normal">They were two sisters, however; loving like sisters, trusting like sisters, -with barely a year between them; and though they knew that the one was younger, -the other elder, they hardy felt it; for Lily was gentle and unpresuming, though -firm as she was mild. She took nought upon her; and though she acted as the -mistress of her father's house, yet Rose seemed to share her authority, and more -than share her power. Emily pretended not to question or to rule her sister; -and, had she been suspicious, she would have asked no questions: but she -suspected nothing.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XIV.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">"Fie, for shame!" cries the old lady so exceedingly smartly dressed in the -corner, whom one who did not see her face, or remark her figure, but who only -looked at her gay clothing, would take to be twenty-three, though forty added to -it would be within the mark--I mean the old lady with the nutmeg-grater face, so -like the portrait of Hans Holbein's grand-aunt, which figures in many of his -wood-cuts, but, especially in the accouchement of the Burgomaster's wife of -Nuremburg. "Fie, for shame! What a very improper thing for a young lady, like -Miss Rose Tracy, to make an appointment with her father's head-gardener. It is a -breach of three of the Commandments!" (Let the reader sort them.) "It is -indecent, dangerous, abominable, terrible, disgraceful, contrary to all the -rules and regulations of society! What a shocking girl she must be!"</p> - -<p class="normal">I will not defend her; I know that all the old ladies, in whatever garments, -whether bifurcate or circumambient, will reasonably cry out upon Rose Tracy; but -let us for a moment hear what it was that induced her to perform that which the -philosophers and critics of Lambeth, and especially those nearest to the door of -the famous peripatetic school of the Bricklayers'-arms, would call "a very young -trick."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, Arthur, what news do you bring us from the other side of the hills?" -asked General Tracy, when his brother appeared at the dinner-table, on the -second day after the departure of his last guest.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, that the Abbey estate is certainly to be sold," replied Mr. Tracy. "I -met Sir William at the court-house; and he informed me that it was his intention -to dispose of the property in lots. He was particularly civil, and said, -whatever arrangement might be necessary, either for my convenience or that of -this part of the county, he would willingly make: so that the land required for -the new road from H---- to Northferry, will not cost more than the mere worth of -the ground at a valuation. I have seldom met with a more gentlemanly man, at -least in manners."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The heart may be a very different affair," said General Tracy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of that we may discover something more in a few days," answered the other -brother; "for I have asked him hereto settle the whole of this affair with me, -as the Germans say <i>unter vier Augen</i>; and he comes here on Friday next, to -spend a few days."</p> - -<p class="normal">Emily made no remark. She would have been very well satisfied to be without -the company of Sir William Winslow; for from all she had at different times -heard of him, she had not conceived a high opinion of him. But she cared little -about the matter, Rose, however, was alarmed and agitated on Chandos's account; -and she conjured up all sorts of fears--lest she should not have an opportunity -of giving him notice of his brother's coming--lest he should not be able to avoid -him--lest they should meet and quarrel, and a thousand other <i>lests</i>, with which -it is unnecessary to embarrass the page.</p> - -<p class="normal">Turn we rather to the early hour at which she hastened down to her little -marble basin, where her gold-fish were certainly not expecting her at that -precise moment. Some one else was, however; and in that expectation he had taken -care that no such interruptions should occur as on the preceding day. Dear -Emily's graceful limbs were still in soft repose too, or at least not clad in -any presentable garments; and, therefore the two had all the world of the little -glade to themselves.</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose, however, trembled more with agitation than fear. There were doubts in -her mind, doubts as to her conduct, doubts as to her feelings; and those doubts -were continually asking, "What stirred the bosom of the Rose so powerfully?" a -very unpleasant question, which she was not inclined to answer.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos saw the agitation, and thought it very beautiful; for it made her eye -sparkle, and the colour of her cheek vary, and gave a quivering eagerness to the -half-open lips. Admiration was the first feeling as he saw her come; but then -some degree of anxiety to know the cause of her emotion succeeded, and he -advanced a step or two to meet her.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, Mr. Winslow," said Rose, as she approached; "I fear you must think this -very strange of me; but I made you a promise that if ever I saw any likelihood -of your being discovered, I would give you immediate notice; and I must keep my -promise before anything else."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And does such a likelihood exist?" asked Chandos, in some alarm; "does any -one suspect?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh no," replied Rose; "but your brother is down at Winslow Abbey, or in the -neighbourhood; and my father has asked him here for a few days. He comes on -Friday."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos mused for a moment or two; and at length a faint and melancholy smile -came upon his fine countenance. "I know not well what to do," he said at length, -in a thoughtful tone, looking up in Rose's face as if for counsel.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thought it would embarrass you very much," she answered; "and I was most -anxious to tell you yesterday; but some obstacle always presented itself, so -that I was obliged to risk a step, which I am afraid will make you think me a -strange, rash girl."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A strange, rash girl!" said Chandos, gazing at her till her eyelids fell, -and the colour came up in her cheek. "A kind, noble, generous one, rather; who -will not let cold ceremonies stand in the way of a good action, or mere forms -prevent the fulfilment of a promise." He took her hand and pressed his lips upon -it; and then, looking into her eyes, he added abruptly--"O, Rose, I love you -dearly--too dearly for my own peace, perhaps--and yet why should I fear? Rasher -love than mine has been successful; and one gleam of hope, one word of -encouragement will be enough to give me energy to sweep away all the -difficulties, to overcome all the obstacles, which seem so formidable at a -distance--nay, dear one, do not tremble and turn pale; surely you must have felt -before now that I love you--you must have seen even on that first day of our -meeting, which we both remember so well, that I could love you, should love you, -if we were to meet again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must go," said Hose in a low voice; "indeed, I must go."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not yet," said Chandos, detaining her gently. "Sit down upon this bench and -hear me but for a moment; for my whole future fate is in your hands, and by your -words now will be decided whether by efforts, stimulated and ennobled by love, I -raise myself high in the world's esteem, and recover that position in society of -which I have been unjustly deprived; or whether I linger on through a despairing -life without expectation or exertion, and leave my wayward fate to follow its -own course, without an attempt to mend it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh do not do so, Chandos," replied Rose Tracy, raising her eyes for the -first time to his. "Make those great and generous efforts; put forth all the -powers of a fine, high mind; control by strong determination the adverse -circumstances that seem to have set so strongly against you; and depend upon it -you will be enabled to stem the torrent which seems now so black and -overwhelming."</p> - -<p class="normal">She spoke eagerly, enthusiastically; and her words were full of hope to -Chandos Winslow's ear--of hope; because he felt that such interest could not be -without its share of love; ay, and the very figure which in her eagerness she -used, recalled to his mind the swimming of the stream near Winslow Abbey, which -in its consequences had brought him even where he then was.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will stem the torrent, Rose," he answered, "I will swim the stream; but I -must have hope to welcome me to the other bank. I came hither with a dream of -other things; but you have given me new objects, new inducements. Take them not -from me, Rose; for the light you have given, once extinguished, and all would be -darkness indeed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What would you have me say?" answered Rose, holding out her hand to him -frankly. "Were I to make any promises, were I to enter into any engagements -without my father's consent, you yourself would disapprove, if you did not -blame, and would not value a boon improperly granted, or would always remember I -had failed in one duty, and doubt whether I would perform others well. You must -not, Chandos, no, you must not ask me to say or do anything that would lower me -in your opinion:" and she added, in an under tone, "I value it too highly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not for the world," cried Chandos eagerly; "for even to ask it would sink me -in your esteem; but only tell me this, Rose, only give me this hope--say, if I -return qualified in point of fortune and expectations, openly to ask your hand -of your father, and gain his consent, may I then hope?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The colour varied beautifully in her cheek, and this time she did not look -up; but, with her eyes bent down on the pebbles at her feet, she said in a low, -but distinct voice, "The objection shall not come from me--I must not say more, -Chandos," she continued in a louder tone; "you must not ask me to say more. I -know not on what your hopes and expectations of success are founded; but you -shall have my best wishes and prayers."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thanks, thanks, dearest," answered Chandos, kissing her hand: "my hopes are -not altogether baseless of advancement in any course I choose to follow. I have -had an education which fits me for almost any course; and although I know that, -in this hard world, the possession of wealth is the first great means of winning -wealth, that poverty is the greatest bar to advancement in a country which -professes that the road to high station is open to every one, still I have quite -enough to sustain myself against the first buffets of the world. A relation, -thank God, left me independent. My father's will adds property, which, when -sold, will amount to eight or ten thousand pounds more; and with the dear hopes -that you have given me, I will instantly choose some course, which upon due -consideration may seem to lead most rapidly to the end in view. I have -relations, too, powerful and willing, I believe, to serve me; and with their aid -and my own efforts I do not fear."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But what will you do at present?" said Rose anxiously. "If your brother -comes, of course he will recognise you. I have heard he is very violent in -temper, and I fear--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, have no fears," answered Chandos; "We must not meet at present. But I -stipulated with your father for a month's leave of absence at this season of the -year; and, although I have lingered on here, if the truth must be told, to sun -myself in the light of those dear eyes from day to day, yet I almost resolved to -spend one month, at least, of every year, resuming my right character, in -London. I will now claim your father's promise, as little remains to be done -here. Long ere I return, my brother will be gone; and by that time too I shall -have fixed upon my future course of life, so as to communicate to you all my -schemes for the future. I will speak to Mr. Tracy this very morning: and -to-morrow, if he does not object, will take my departure. But before then I -shall see you again; is it not so, Rose?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I dare say it will be so," she answered, with a faint smile: "there has been -seldom a day when we have not met. I begin to judge very badly of myself; but I -can assure you, I had no notion of what you were thinking of till--till within -these last few days, or I should have acted differently, perhaps."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ob, do not say so," replied her lover. "Why would you make me believe you -less kind, less gentle than you have shown yourself? Why say that if you had -known how great was the happiness you gave, you would have deprived me of the -brightest consolation I could have, under many sorrows and disappointments."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If it consoled you I shall be more contented with myself," said Rose. "But -now I must go, Chandos; for indeed if any one were to catch me sitting here -talking to you, I should die of shame."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All that could then be done," answered her lover, "would be to tell, that -Thomas Acton is Chandos Winslow, and to say how he and Rose Tracy met one bright -day many months ago, and how she passed hours leaning upon his arm amongst gay -bright folks, who little suspected that he would one day turn out a gardener."</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose laughed, and gave him her hand, only to be covered with parting kisses; -and, while she walked thoughtfully and with a much moved heart back to the -house, Chandos paused for full a quarter-of-an-hour to gaze upon a bright and -beautiful view, full of summer sunshine, and life and light, which had suddenly -opened before him in the world of fancy. Oh what immense and uncountable wealth -lies hid in the chambers of a castle in the air! In youth we are all chameleons, -and our lands and tenements are as unsubstantial as our food.</p> - -<p class="normal">When he had lived in cloudland for a while, Chandos went round the grounds, -gave various orders, directions, and explanations; and then, following the path -which Rose had pursued--he loved to put his feet on the same spots where hers had -trod--he too went up to the house, and desired to speak with Mr. Tracy.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XV.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">Amongst a crowd of persons who were waiting to get into the train, at -the--station of--railway, was one exceedingly well dressed young man in deep -mourning. He was tall, perhaps standing six feet in height, or a little more, -exceedingly broad over the chest, with long and powerful arms, and a small -waist. His features were fine, and the expression of his countenance though very -grave, was engaging and noble. He had a first-class ticket, and got into a -carriage in which were already three other passengers. One was a tall -middle-aged man, with a dull-coloured handkerchief, high up, upon his chin; -another, a young dandified looking person, not very gentlemanly in appearance; -and the third, was a short personage, with an air of great importance, a tin -case, and a large roll of papers and parchments, tied up with a piece of green -ribbon. His face was round, his figure was round, his legs were round, and his -hands were round. In short, he would have looked like a congeries of dumplings, -if it had not been for the colour of his countenance, which equalled that of an -autumnal sun seen through a London fog. Round and rosy countenances are not -generally the most expressive; and there was but one feature in that of this -worthy personage, which redeemed it from flat insipidity. That was the eye; -black, small, twinkling, ever in motion, it was one of the shrewdest, cunningest -little eyes that ever rolled in a human head. There was not a vestige of eyebrow -above it--nothing but a scalded red line. There was very little eyelash around -it, but yet it is wonderful how it twinkled, without any accessories: a fixed -star, shining by its own light; and yet the simile is not a good one, for it was -anything but fixed, glancing from person to person, and object to object as fast -as it could go.</p> - -<p class="normal">When the stranger entered the carriage, this round gentleman was holding -forth to him in the dark handkerchief, upon some subject which seemed to be -provocative of that very troublesome quality, called <i>eloquence</i>; but, -nevertheless, without for one moment interrupting his declamation, he had in an -instant investigated every point of his new fellow-traveller's exterior, while -he was getting in, and had doubtless made his own comments thereon, with proper -sagacity.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It matters not one straw, my dear Sir," said the round man, with infinite -volubility, "whether it be the broad gauge or the narrow gauge, whether it be -well-constructed or ill-constructed, whether well-worked or ill-worked, what are -its facilities, whence it comes, whither it goes, or any other accidental -circumstance whatever. It is a railroad, my dear Sir--a railroad, <i>in esse</i> or -<i>in posse</i>; and a man of sense never considers a railroad, except under one -point of view, videlicet, as a speculation. That is the only question for any -man--How is it as a speculation? Is it up or down? Has it had its <i>up?</i>--And here -I must explain what I mean by having its <i>up</i>. Every railroad that can be -conceived, will, and does rise in the market, to a certain height, at some time. -Let me explain: By a certain height, I mean a height above its real value. Well, -it is sure to reach that height at some time. All things are relative, of -course. For instance, and by way of illustration: Suppose some ingenious -surveyor, with the assistance of an engineer in some repute--say, Brunel, Cubit, -Vignoles--and a railway solicitor, were to start the project of a railway to the -Canary Islands. A number of stupid fellows would at once say, 'That is -impossible!' and scrip would be very low. But then the projectors would wisely -put a number of influential names in the direction. The least scrap of writing -in the world, will suffice to justify you in putting a man's name in the -direction; and if you cannot get that, you take it for granted that he will -support so excellent a scheme, and put him on without. Well, <i>the rail to the -Canary Islands</i> is before the public for some time--scrip very low--perhaps no -quotations--but two or three knowing ones are well aware that it will have -<i>its -up</i>, and they buy. It gets rumoured that Rothschild has bought, or Goldschmid -has bought, or any other great name has bought; scrip begins to rise. The bill -goes in to the Board of Trade--not the slightest chance of its being -recommended--never mind! There's an immense deal of bustle, an immense deal of -talk: one man says, it is folly; another, that it is a bubble--but then comes -some one and says, 'Look at Rothschild, look at Goldschmid, look at the list of -directors.' Scrip goes up! People begin to bet upon its passing the Board. Scrip -goes up! The last minute before the decision arrives; and then, or at some -period before or after, it may be said to have its <i>up</i>. Then all wise men sell, -and scrip goes down. If it is a very bad job, it goes down, down, down, till the -whole thing bursts. If, however, it is feasible, with good and sturdy men -concerned, it will go on varying, sometimes high, sometimes low, for months or -years. But I would never advise any one to have to do with such a line as that. -The very worst and most impracticable are always the best speculations."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not understand that," said the man in the dull handkerchief. "I made -ten thousand clear in one day by the Birmingham, which, after all, is the best -line going."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You might have made a hundred thousand if it had been the worst," answered -the man of rounds. "You say you don't understand it. I will explain--I am always -ready to explain. On uncertain lines, very uncertain indeed, there is always the -most fluctuation. Now the business of a speculator is to take advantage of -fluctuations. You will say it is not safe, perhaps; but that is a mistake. The -speculation in the bad-line business can be reduced to a mathematical certainty, -as I proved to the worthy gentleman with whom I have been a doing a little -business this morning, Mr. Tracy, of Northferry. He preferred good lines, and -thought them both safer and more right and proper, and all that sort of thing. -So I only dealt with the safeness; for, after all, that is the question with a -speculator; and I showed him that the very worst lines have their up at some -time; it may not be very great, but the difference between it and the down is -greater always than in good lines. 'Suppose, my dear Sir,' I said, 'that the -fifty-pound share is at first at ninety per cent. discount; then is the time to -buy. You never suppose that it will rise to par; but when the surveying is all -done, the notices are served, the forms all complied with, and after a -tremendous bustle--always make a tremendous bustle, it tells on the market--and, -after a tremendous bustle, you have got your bill into the Board of Trade, the -share is sure to go up till it sticks at seventy or seventy-five per cent, -discount. Then sell as fast as possible, and you gain more than cent. per cent. -upon your outlay.' There is no scheme so bad upon the face of the earth that it -cannot be raised full ten per cent. with a little trouble. Let a man start a -line to the moon, and if I do not bring it up ten per cent. from the first -quotations, my name is not Scriptolemus Bond."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You must have made a good thing of it, Mr. Bond, I suppose," said the man in -the handkerchief.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pretty well, pretty well!" answered the other with a shrewd wink of the eye; -"not quite up to Hudson yet; but I shall soon be a head of him, for he does -nothing but dabble with paltry good lines. I have enough in this box to make -three men's fortunes;" and he rapped the tin case by his side.</p> - -<p class="normal">How the real Charlatan does vary its operations in different ages! This same -man, a century ago, would have been selling pills and powders at a fair. His -attention, however, was at this point called in another direction, by the tall, -elegant stranger in mourning, who had lately come in, inquiring in a quiet tone, -"Pray, Sir, does Mr. Arthur Tracy speculate much in railroads?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No man more," answered Mr. Scriptolemus Bond. "Are you acquainted with him, -Sir?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have seen and conversed with him several times," replied the other; "but -we are no farther acquainted."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, Sir, Mr. Tracy is a lucky man," said Mr. Bond; "he has several hundred -thousands of pounds in some of the most promising speculations going. Too much -in the good lines, indeed, to get as much out of it as possible; but he has this -morning, at my suggestion, embarked in an excellent affair. 'The diagonal North -of England and John-o'-Groats-House Railway.' The fifty-pound share is now at -seventeen and sixpence, and I'll stake my reputation that in six weeks it will -be up at five pounds; for a great number of capital people are only waiting to -come in when they see it on the rise. Now the very fact of Mr. Tracy having -taken five hundred shares will raise them ten or twelve shillings in the market; -so that he might sell to-morrow, and be a gainer of fifty per cent. Oh, I never -advise a bad speculation. I am always sure, quite sure. Would you like to embark -a few hundred pounds in the same spec as your friend, Sir? I have no doubt I -could get you shares at the same rate, or within a fraction, if you decide at -once. To-morrow they will probably be up to twenty or five-and-twenty. How many -shall I say, Sir?" and Mr. Scriptolemus took out his note-book.</p> - -<p class="normal">"None, I thank you," answered Chandos Winslow; "I never speculate."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Humph!" said the other; and turning to the dandified young man in the -corner, he applied to him with better success. The youth's ears had been open -all the time, and the oratory displayed had produced the greater effect, because -it was not addressed immediately to him.</p> - -<p class="normal">No further conversation took place between Chandos Winslow and Mr. -Scriptolemus Bond. The latter found that he was not of the stuff of which -gentlemen of his cloth make conveniences, and, what is more, discovered it at -once. Indeed, it is wonderful what tact a practised guller of the multitude -displays in selecting the materials for his work.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the London terminus, the young gentleman got into a cabriolet, and took -his way to a small quiet hotel in Cork-street, and remained thinking during the -evening a great deal more of Mr. Scriptolemus Bond and his sayings and doings, -than of anything else on earth, except Rose Tracy. It was not that the prospect -of making rapidly large sums of money by the speculations of the day had any -great effect upon him, although it must be owned that such hopes would have been -very attractive in conjunction with that bright image of Rose Tracy, had it not -been for certain prejudices of habit and education. But he had a higher flying -ambition; he longed not only to win wealth for Rose Tracy's sake, but to win it -with distinction, in the straightforward, open paths of personal exertion. He -did not wish that his marriage with her should be brought about like the -denouement of a third-rate French comedy, by a lucky hit upon the Bourse. It was -the words which Mr. Bond had spoken regarding the large speculations of Mr. -Tracy which surprised and somewhat alarmed him. He knew well that the railroad -mania was the fever of the day, that it affected every rank and every -profession, that neither sex and no age but infancy was free; but he was sorry -to find that Rose's father was infected with the disease in so serious a form. -What might be the consequences of a mistake in such a course, to her he loved -best! How great was the probability of a mistake on the part of a man in Mr. -Tracy's position! He was removed from all sources of immediate information; he -had few means of ascertaining the feasibility of the schemes in which he -engaged; he had no means of ascertaining the characters of those with whom he -was associated. Young as he was, Chandos saw dangers great and probable in such -a course; and not knowing the almost omnipotent power of a popular passion over -the minds of men, he could not conceive how a person of Mr. Tracy's sense, -blessed with affluence, in need of nothing, with but two daughters to succeed to -wealth already great, could yield himself to such infatuation.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next morning passed in visits to several of his old friends and some of -his mother's relations. His story, as far as regarded his father's will, was -already known, and he was received everywhere with kindness--apparent, if not -real; for it is a mistake to suppose that the world is so impolitic as to show -its selfishness in a way to ensure contempt. One or two were really kind, -entered warmly into his feelings and his wishes, and consulted as to how his -interests were best to be served, his objects most readily to be gained. A -cousin of his mother's, an old lady with a large fortune at her disposal, wrote -at once to her nephew, one of the ministers, who had a good number of daughters, -begging him to espouse the cause of Chandos Winslow, and obtain for him some -employment in which his abilities would have room to display themselves. An -answer, however, was not to be expected immediately; and Chandos went back to -his solitary hotel with gratitude for the kindness he had met with, but -nevertheless with spirits not raised.</p> - -<p class="normal">Several days passed dully. The hopes of youth travel by railroad, but -fulfilment goes still by the waggon. He found petty impediments at every step: -people out whom he wanted to see; hours wasted by waiting in ante-rooms; -ministers occupied all day long; friends who forgot what they had promised to -remember, and were very much ashamed to no effect. To a man who seeks anything -of his fellow-men, there is always a terrible consumption of time. Sometimes it -is accidental on the part of those who inflict it--sometimes, alas! though by no -means always--it is in a degree intentional, for there is a pleasure in keeping -application waiting. It prolongs our importance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My dear Sir, I am very sorry to have detained you," said a high officer one -day, running into the waiting room and shaking his hand; "but I have had -pressing business all the morning, and now I must ask you to call on me -to-morrow about two, for I am forced to run away upon a matter that cannot be -delayed."</p> - -<p class="normal">What had he been doing for the last hour? What was he going to do? He had -been reading the newspaper. He was going to trifle with a pretty woman.</p> - -<p class="normal">A fortnight passed, and on the second Saturday of his stay in London, -Chandos, who loved music, went with a friend, a young guardsman, to the opera. -During the first act, for they were both enthusiasts in their way, neither -Chandos nor Captain Parker saw or heard anything but what was going on upon the -stage--I call him Captain Parker by a licence common to those who write such -books as this; for in reality his name was not Parker, though in other respects -the tale is true. At the end of the first act, as usually happens with young -men, they began to look round the house from their station below in search of -friendly or of pretty faces. "There is my aunt, Lady Mary," said Parker; "I must -go up and speak with her for a minute. Will you come, Winslow? I will introduce -you. My two young cousins are very handsome, people think."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not to-night," said Chandos; "I am out of spirits, Parker, and unfit for -fair ladies' sweet companionship."</p> - -<p class="normal">Parker accordingly went away alone, and spent some time in his aunt's box. -Chandos looked up once, and saw bright eyes and a glass turned to where he sat -in the pit. "Parker is telling my story," he thought; and an unpleasant feeling -of being talked about made him turn away his eyes and look at some other people. -A few minutes after, his friend rejoined him, and sat out the opera; then went -to speak with some other party; and Chandos, who was in a mood to be bored by a -ballet, and to detest even Cerito, walked slowly out. There were a good many -people going forth, and a crush of carriages. Lady Mary Parker's carriage was -shouted forth. (There may be another Lady Mary Parker; I believe there is.) The -lady advanced with her two daughters: the servant was at the carriage-door: a -chariot dashed violently up, and, as her carriage had not drawn close to the -curb, on account of another that was before, cut in, jamming the footman, and -almost running down the old lady. Chandos started forward, caught the intruding -horses' heads, and forced them back, the coachman, as such cattle will sometimes -do, cutting at him with his whip. Of the latter circumstance Chandos took but -little notice, the police interfering to make the coachman keep back when the -mischief was done, according to the practice of the London police; but he -instantly approached Lady Mary, expressing a hope in very courteous terms, that -she was neither hurt, nor much alarmed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no! Mr. Winslow," said the lady, leaning on her eldest daughter; "but I -fear my poor servant is. He was jammed between the carriages."</p> - -<p class="normal">Ere Chandos could say anything in return, some one pushed roughly against -him, exclaiming, "Get out of the way, fellow!" and the next moment Lord Overton -was before him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What do you mean, Sir?" cried Chandos, turning upon him fiercely, and for an -instant forgetting the presence of women.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I mean that you are an impertinent, blackguard," replied Lord Overton. "I -hope, Lady Mary, my fellow did not frighten you. He is rather too quick."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So quick, my lord, that he should be discharged very quickly," said Lady -Mary Parker, taking Chandos's arm unoffered, and walking with him to the side of -her carriage. The young ladies followed; a question was asked of the footman, -who said he was a little hurt, but not much; and the door was shut.</p> - -<p class="normal">Before the vehicle drove on, however, the ladies within had the satisfaction, -if it was one, of seeing Chandos Winslow lead Lord Overton towards his carriage -by the nose.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XVI.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">Let us write an essay upon noses. Each organ of the human body, but more -especially an organ of sensation, has a sort of existence apart--a separate -sphere of being from the great commonwealth of which it is a member, just as -every individual has his own peculiar ties and relationships distinct from the -body of society, though affecting it sympathetically and remotely. Each organ -has its affections and its pleasures; its misfortunes and its pains; its -peculiarities, generic and individual; its own appropriate history, and its -unchangeable destiny and fate. As the eye is supposed (wrongly) to be the most -expressive of organs, so is the nose of man the most impressible. Tender in its -affections, enlarged in its sympathies, soft in its character, it is in this -foul and corrupt world more frequently subject to unpleasant than to pleasant -influences. During one season of the year alone does nature provide it with -enjoyments; and during the long cold winter it is pinched and maltreated by -meteoric vicissitudes. It is a summer-bird; a butterfly; a flower, blossoming on -the waste of man's countenance, but inhaling (not exhaling) odours during the -bright period when other flowers are in bloom. During the whole of the rest of -the year its joys are factitious, and whether they proceed from Eau de Portugal, -bouquet ŕ la Reine, or Jean Marie Farina, it is but a sort of hot-house life the -nose obtains, produced by stoves and pipes, till summer comes round again.</p> - -<p class="normal">Like all the sensitive, the nose is perhaps the most unfortunate of human -organs. Placed in an elevated situation, it is subject to all the rude buffets -of the world; its tender organization is always subject to disgusts. Boreas -assails it; Sol burns it; Bacchus inflames it. Put forward as a leader in the -front of the battle, men follow it blindly on a course which it is very often -unwilling to pursue, and then blame it for every mischance. Whatever hard blows -are given, it comes in for more than its share; and, after weeping tears of -blood, has to atone for the faults of other members over which it has no -control. The fists are continually getting it into scrapes; its bad neighbour, -the tongue, brings down indignation upon it undeserved; the eyes play it false -on a thousand occasions; and the whole body corporate is continually poking it -into situations most repugnant to its better feelings. The poor, unfortunate -nose! verily, it is a sadly misused organ. It matters not whether it be hooked -or straight, long or short, turned-up or depressed, a bottle, a bandbox, a -sausage, or the ace of clubs; Roman, Grecian, English, French, German, or -Calmuc, the nose is ever to be pitied for its fate below.</p> - -<p class="normal">I can hardly forgive Chandos Winslow for fingering so rudely the nasal organ -of Viscount Overton. It was of considerable extent, and very tangible qualities: -an inviting nose, it must be said, which offered almost as many temptations to -an insulted man as that of a certain gentleman in Strasburg to the trumpeter's -wife. So much must be said in Chandos's favour; but yet it was cruel, harsh, -almost cowardly. The poor nose could not defend itself; and yet he had the -barbarity to pinch the helpless innocent between his iron finger and thumb for -full three seconds and a half. Pain and amazement kept the owner of the nose -from putting forth his own powers to avenge it for the same space; and indeed it -would have been to little purpose had he attempted such a thing, for he was no -more capable of defending his nose against Chandos Winslow, than the nose was of -defending itself.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length the grasp of his antagonist relaxed, and the peer exclaimed aloud, -"Police! police! You scoundrel, I will give you in charge."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That you can do if you please," answered Chandos, with a sneer; "but -methinks your honour will somewhat suffer. There, Sir, is my card, if you wish -to know who it is has punished your impertinence."</p> - -<p class="normal">The police were very busy at a little distance; and the noble lord, left to -his own resources, exclaimed, "Your card, fellow! Do you suppose I do not know -you--a low vagabond dressed up as a gentleman!--Police! I say."</p> - -<p class="normal">A crowd had gathered round, and two gentlemen in anticipation of the arrival -of the police, were investigating the contents of the peer's pockets, when a -tall, thin, gentlemanly man, one Sir Henry d'Estragon, a Lieutenant-Colonel in -the service, well known about Wimbledon and Molesey, and who had even -reminiscences of Primrose Hill when there was such a place unpolluted, pushed -his way through, crying, "Why, Winslow, what is the matter? How do you do, my -dear fellow? Here seems a row. What is going on?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps, d'Estragon, you can persuade this person, whose nose I have just -had the pleasure of pulling," replied Chandos Winslow, "that I am not a low -vagabond dressed up like a gentleman. He is not inclined to take my card, but -calls for the police."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Rather strange," said Sir Henry d'Estragon. "I thought it was Lord Overton: -but I must be mistaken."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No Sir, you are not," replied the peer; "but I have every reason to believe -this person to be an impostor."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pooh!" said the officer, turning away with a scoff. "Come, Winslow; if he -chooses policemen for his friends on such occasions, we had better get away. -Here they come."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay a moment, Sir," said Lord Overton; "if you will be answerable that this -person is--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mr. Chandos Winslow, my lord," replied Sir Henry, "second son of my old -friend Sir Harry Winslow, whom I had the honour of accompanying in -'twenty-seven, when he shot Michael Burnsley. I have nothing more to say, except -that there is the gentleman's card. Any friend of yours will find me with him -till twelve to-morrow. But if you prefer the police, you must send them after -us. Goodnight, my lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lord Overton took the tendered card; and Sir Henry, putting his arm through -that of Chandos, walked away up Charles-street, while the policemen came up and -inquired what was the matter; but got no satisfactory answer.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next morning Sir Henry d'Estragon sat at breakfast with Chandos Winslow -in his hotel, making himself very comfortable with all the etcćteras of an -English breakfast, when Lord George Lumley was announced; and, as Chandos knew -no such person, the object of his visit was not difficult to divine. All formal -courtesies were gone through in a very formal manner; and then, after a single -instant's pause, and a look at a patent-leather boot, Lord George addressed -himself to the business in hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have the honour, Mr. Winslow," he said, "of bearing you a message from my -friend, Lord Overton. It would seem a very strange misconception took place last -night, according to Lord Overton's account, from whom I required a full -explanation of the whole circumstances, as I never undertake anything of this -kind, without having made myself master of the facts."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir Henry d'Estragon showed some signs of an impatience, which was not -decreased when Lord George went on to say: "Lord Overton mistook you, it would -appear, for a person in an inferior station, very like you; I myself see no -reason why mutual apologies should not set the whole matter to rights; but--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"We have no apologies to make, my dear lord," replied Sir Henry; "your friend -called Mr. Winslow an impertinent blackguard, in the presence of three ladies; -adding, afterwards, some very insulting language. Under those circumstances, my -friend pulled his nose--he always does; it is a habit he has--and there we rest -satisfied: if Lord Overton is not satisfied, it is another thing."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will only add one word," said Chandos, "on my own part, and then leave you -two gentlemen to settle the matter; as, when I have put myself in the hands of -another, I have no farther right to interfere. What I have simply to say, is -this: that the language and manner of Lord Overton towards me is not to be -justified or excused by the plea that he mistook me for any one else, for it was -ungentlemanly and unjustifiable towards any man, who gave him no offence, let -that man's situation be what it would. And now, gentlemen, I will leave you." -And he walked into the neighbouring room.</p> - -<p class="normal">In about five minutes after, Sir Henry d'Estragon came in to him and said, -"Lord George requires, on the part of his friend, that you should say you are -sorry for having pulled his nose. I have already given a general refusal; but -Lord George is peacefully as well as valiantly disposed; and, therefore, wishes -the proposal to be submitted to you, with a hint at the same time, that he does -not know whether his principal will be contented with the terms; but that he -shall withdraw from the business, if Lord Overton is not. What say you? Do not -let me bias you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I shall certainly not say that I am sorry," replied Chandos; "for if I did, -I should tell a lie. I think it was the only fitting punishment for Lord -Overton's conduct, though perhaps, less than he merited."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Bravo!" said Sir Henry; and returning again into the sitting room, he -remained for about ten minutes in consultation with Lord George Lumley, and then -notified to Chandos, that all was arranged for a meeting on the day after the -next.</p> - -<p class="normal">At seven o'clock in the morning--it was just gray daylight--a post-chaise and a -travelling-chariot were seen drawn up, near the mill, on Wimbledon Common. At -the distance of about five hundred yards stood five persons, of whom Chandos -Winslow and Viscount Overton were the principals. Chandos was cool and calm, -though there was some little degree of hesitation in his own mind regarding his -conduct. Lord Overton was considerably excited, and eyed his adversary with a -steady look and a frowning brow. Lord George Lumley made one more effort to -bring about a reconciliation; but the peer repelled even his own friend -haughtily, saying aloud, so that no one could avoid hearing him: "I tell you, -Lumley, the time is past. I would accept no apology now, if it were offered; and -pray take care that there be no foolery: for it is my determination not to quit -this spot, till one or the other of us cannot fire a shot."</p> - -<p class="normal">Such a declaration was well calculated to remove any doubt from Chandos's -mind. D'Estragon placed him very scientifically, spoke a word or two of caution -and direction, and then retired with Lord George to give the signal. The -distance was eight paces; the ground flat and unencumbered; both men very cool -and steady; for Lord Overton had grown calm, as soon as he was in position; and -the "one, two, three," were pronounced in a clear, loud voice. Both pistols were -fired in an instant. Chandos Winslow's hat was knocked off his head, and fell a -step or two behind; but he stood firm. On the contrary Lord Overton wavered on -his feet, though no one saw where the ball had taken effect; and then dropped -slowly down, with a motion as unlike a stage death as possible. The surgeon and -the seconds all ran up; and Chandos Winslow, after pausing for a moment, -followed more slowly. D'Estragon, however, met him, as he came near, saying: -"Come along, come along! he has got sufficient." And, taking him by the arm, he -hurried him towards the chaise, into which they both got.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Cork-street," he said to Winslow's boy; and, putting his head out of the -window, he called to the man with the other horses, "You had better get up there -as near as you can to those gentlemen."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos leaned back in his carriage with very painful sensations at his -heart: he felt what it is for two men to meet full of life and energy, and but -one to go away again. At that moment he would have given almost all he possessed -on earth, that he had not fired.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is he dead?" he inquired at length.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, he was not when we came away," said d'Estragon, gravely, "but hurt quite -badly enough for you to be off, my dear fellow, and me too. Just drop me at my -house as we go by; and then get this fellow to take you another stage out of -town. It will be better for us to go separately; for I have known awkward -consequences from two men travelling together under such circumstances."</p> - -<p class="normal">The arrangement he proposed was followed, as far at least as dropping him at -his own house was concerned; but Chandos then returned to the hotel, and -remained for nearly half-an-hour in sad thought. He had scarcely the heart to -fly; but after a while, recalling the unpleasant image of long imprisonment -before trial, he made up his mind to his course, and quitted London by one of -the few stage coaches remaining. About ten days were spent in retirement at one -of the small villages which are found scattered over the country within about -twenty miles of London, and then he made his way back towards Winslow Abbey. He -had heard no news of his antagonist's fate after he had left him with his friend -and the surgeon on Wimbledon Common. In a country paper, indeed, he had seen, -copied from a London paper, an account of the duel, in which the facts were of -course misstated, without being altogether false. If newspapers would content -themselves with telling the plain truth or the plain lie about anything, they -would be beneficial or harmless; but it is the mixture of both which often -renders them dangerous and detrimental, ay, sometimes even after nineteen years. -From the journal which fell into his hands, all he gathered was that Lord -Overton had been carried to his own house, supposed to be in a dying state, -while the peer's conduct towards himself was grossly exaggerated by a democratic -paper, for the purpose of crying down the aristocracy. He was grieved, anxious, -remorseful; for he could not exculpate himself from all blame. He knew that Lord -Overton had just cause to think that he was assuming a character which did not -belong to him; and all the motives which had actuated before and during the duel -seemed to vanish into thin air when he came calmly and without passion to -examine his own conduct. In vain he asked himself if he could stand and be -insulted without resentment in the presence of persons nearly strangers to him. -In vain he thought that no law required him to remain passive and be shot at by -a man who declared his determination of not quitting the ground till one fell. -In vain he argued, that having put his honour into the hands of a friend, he was -bound to abide by whatever determination that friend came to. He felt that he -might have done better, and that by not doing so he had endangered, if not -taken, the life of a fellow-creature.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was with a heavy heart then that, after having quitted the railroad and -the cross coach, and left his baggage to be sent to the little public-house at -Northferry, he walked on in the garments of an inferior station, which he had -resumed, towards the ancient seat of his family, wishing to see his -half-brother, Lockwood, and obtain further information upon many points before -he proceeded to Mr. Tracy's.</p> - -<p class="normal">The sun had set before he reached the park; and walking slowly along under a -row of broad chestnuts which bordered the paling on the east, he approached -Lockwood's house, thoughtful, and perhaps more sad than when he had first -visited it. But the house was all dark, and he rapped and tried the door in -vain. Then thinking that perhaps the person he sought had gone up to the Abbey, -he crossed the wide savannahs and groves of tall trees, and came upon the house -towards the eastern angle. There were lights in several of the rooms, and a -suspicion that his brother might be at the house crossed his mind. How to -ascertain the fact without discovering himself, became the next question; but -the night was very dark, the tall windows came down to within three feet of the -ground of the terrace; the wind was high and noisy, so as to cover the sound of -his footfalls, and in most of the rooms the curtains seemed not to have been -drawn. He would look in, he thought, and see who were the tenants.</p> - -<p class="normal">The rooms nearest to him he knew were those inhabited by the keeper, Garbett, -and his wife; and passing on along the principal front, he paused at what had -been called in his boyish days the little drawing-room. There were candles on -the table, and two men within, one holding a light in his hand, the other -mounted on a ladder, pasting printed numbers upon the old family pictures, -previous to a sale. The next room, the great drawing-room, was dark; but the -music-room beyond displayed to his eyes a tall, dry-looking person, in a frock -coat and a yellow waistcoat, probably an auctioneer, striking the keys of an old -piano which had stood there since his mother's days. Then came the boudoir, -without lights, and a little ante-room, also in darkness. Beyond was the small -study, the furniture of which had been bequeathed to himself, and in it was a -faint light, which, when he looked through the windows, he perceived was -afforded by the open door of the library adjoining. Going on a few steps, he -paused and gazed, not doubting that if Lockwood was at the Abbey he would be -there; but no such figure presented itself.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the large table sat Mr. Faber, the late Sir Harry Winslow's secretary, and -probably his son, with writing materials before him; and--opposite one of the -large gothic bookcases, with a candle on a small table at his side--was Roberts, -the steward. He was busily engaged with a set of strange-looking iron -instruments on a ring, in what seemed to be picking the lock of one of the -drawers, a range of which ran between the book-shelves above, and a row of -cupboards below. The next instant, while Chandos was still gazing, the drawer -was pulled out, and Roberts took forth a whole handful of papers. He threw one -after the other down into a basket at his side with very little consideration, -till suddenly he paused, looked earnestly at one of the few which remained in -his hand, and then seemed moved by stronger emotions than Chandos had ever -before observed in his calm and little perturbable countenance. The moment after -he said something to Mr. Faber, and then Chandos heard him distinctly say, "Call -him, call him."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young secretary rose from the table, paused to look earnestly at the -paper in the steward's hands, and then left the room. Roberts sat down and -wrote, looking from time to time at the paper as if he were copying something -inscribed upon it; and at the end of perhaps two minutes, Mr. Faber returned. As -he entered the room his eyes turned towards the window where Chandos stood, and -he suddenly lifted his hand and pointed. It was evident that he saw somebody -looking in; but Chandos was sure that in the darkness, and at the distance at -which he stood, his features could not be distinguished. He was agitated, and -his thoughts troubled with all he had seen. He felt convinced that his brother -was in the house, and had been sent for by Roberts. He feared an encounter with -Sir William at that moment and in that garb. He feared himself and his own -vehemence--it was a lesson he had lately learned; and hurrying away, he plunged -into the woods, crossed the park again, and sought a village about two miles -distant, where a little inn was to be found.</p> - -<p class="normal">Entering with as composed an air as possible, Chandos Winslow asked for a -room and some tea; and having been accommodated at once, for persons dressed -like himself were frequent and honoured guest, he sat down to think.</p> - -<p class="normal">What was the meaning, he asked himself, of the scene he had just beheld at -the Abbey? It was evident that the drawers of the bookcases which had been left -to him with all their contents of every kind, had been opened without his -consent or knowledge. All that those two rooms contained, of every kind and -description whatsoever, had been left to him by his father's will. The papers -which he had seen taken out might be of infinite importance to him. Who could -tell what might be done with them? Roberts he believed to be perfectly honest. -Faber, though very weak, was kind and gentle; but his brother he felt he could -not depend upon. His notions of right and wrong were anything but strict; and -his ideas of his own privileges and rights distorted by that species of haughty -selfishness, which makes despots of crowned monarchs and tyrants and unjust men -in every walk of life, might induce him to read the legacy to his brother in a -very different sense from the plain one, and lead him to take possession of the -papers which had been found by his steward and his secretary.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos thought long--sadly--seriously. There are despairing moments, when all -earthly things seem nothing. When the objects of hope and desire appear -valueless--when we feel tired out with the struggle against fate, and are -inclined to give it up and let all things take their chance. Those are dangerous -moments. Let every man beware of them. They are the first symptoms of the worst -kind of mental malady--apathy; and without prompt and speedy remedies, the -disease will get such a hold that it will be with difficulty cast off. Chandos -felt it creeping upon him, as he had once felt it before. It seemed as if his -destiny was to misfortune; as if nothing could go right with him; as if every -effort, every hope failed. What was the use of prolonging the strife? What -mattered it how the papers, the furniture, the books, the busts, the pictures, -were disposed of? Why should he play out a losing game? Were it not better to -spread out his cards upon the board, and let his adversary make the most of -them?</p> - -<p class="normal">But, happily, like a ray of light breaking through the storm clouds--like the -first smile of summer after winter--like an angel sent to comfort, the image of -Rose Tracy rose up before his memory. For her was the struggle. She was the -spirit of hope to him; and the strife against fortune was renewed. Every -possession--every chance became an object worth preserving, as Rose Tracy -presented herself to thought, and for her he resolved to neglect no effort which -he had power to make. The first thing he decided upon was to let Roberts, at -least, know that he was aware of what had taken place; and, calling for pen and -ink and paper, he wrote him a short formal note, to the following effect:--</p> - - -<p style="text-indent: 10%"><span class="sc">Sir,</span></p> - -<p class="normal">I am much surprised to find that the drawers of the bookcases left to me by -my father's will, together with everything that the library and adjoining study -contain, of every kind whatsoever, have been opened with pick-locks, without my -consent. I write this merely to remind you that you are accountable to me, and -only to me, for everything that you may have found in those drawers, and to -insist that the papers of which you have taken possession, be given into the -hands of no one but</p> - -<p style="text-indent: 40%">Your obedient servant,</p> - -<p style="text-indent: 55%"><span class="sc">Chandos Winslow.</span></p> - -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XVII.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">There is no sorrow like self-reproach. Chandos Winslow was by no means a -perfect character: he inherited much of his father's vehemence of nature, though -far less than his brother: but at the same time, whether it be a natural or an -acquired quality, (I think, the former,) he had great conscientiousness. Now, -great conscientiousness cannot exist in the same breast with much vanity. They -are incompatible ingredients: the vain man thinks all he does is right; the -conscientious man is always trying if it be so, and censuring himself more than -he would others when he finds he has acted wrong. Chandos felt that he had done -so in the case of Lord Overton. How much soever worldly usages might justify -him, he would not exculpate himself. And the burden was heavy: he groaned under -it.</p> - -<p class="normal">When he had written the note to Mr. Roberts, and obtained some tea, he sat -meditating sadly on his fate, till at length he thought, "It would be better to -give myself up! It is a duty--it may be some atonement. I will see Mr. Tracy -first; and Rose. Dear girl, I fear she has suffered on my account."</p> - -<p class="normal">His thoughts still remained sad; but they were calmer after he had taken this -resolution. And ringing the bell, he asked if there was a newspaper in the house -to amuse the time. The landlady, who appeared herself, said there was no "fresh -ones," as she termed them; for Mr. Tims, the sexton, always had them first, and -he kept them full three days; which was a shame. She had all last week's Times, -however, she added, if the gentleman would like to see them.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Better that than none," Chandos thought; and accepted, the offer. In a few -minutes, the huge pile which a week's accumulation of the Times newspaper is -sure to form in the month of January, when parliament meets early, was placed -before him, and he opened the one at the top. It was six days old; but the young -gentleman's eye rested first upon one of those eloquent and masterly leading -articles, where all the powers of language and the acuteness of human reason, -sharpened by art and use, are employed to give a peculiar view of some passing -subject, in what may well be called an essay, which, if mental labour and -literary merit ever obtained reward in England, would raise the writer far above -the great body of those who are honoured by the crown and paid by the nation. -The vigour, the subtlety, the eloquence, ay, and the wisdom of many passages -captivated the mind of Chandos Winslow; but they brought a sad moral with them. -He had dreamed of employing his own talents in the world of letters, of seeking -fame and recompense by mental exertion. But he now asked himself--"Who is it -wrote this splendid essay? What has been his reward in life? Who will ever hear -of him? What will be his future fate? A man who can shake public opinion to its -foundation, who can rule and command the minds of millions by the sceptre of -genius, will live unhonoured but by a few, unrewarded except by the -comparatively small remuneration, which even such a journal as this can afford, -and die forgotten. Print calico, Chandos Winslow, twist cotton, paint portraits, -feel pulses, plead causes bad and good, cut throats, do any thing but follow a -course which in England is luxurious to the rich and great, thorny and stony to -all else. We are a great commercial people! we are a nation of shopkeepers; and -even in the distribution of honours and rewards, those who have them to dispose -of expect their material pennyworth in return. Mind is nothing in Great Britain, -except as it is employed upon matter."</p> - -<p class="normal">While indulging in such reveries Chandos had laid the paper down; but when -they were over, he took it up again; and his eyes fell upon several other -paragraphs, one after the other, till they rested upon a brief passage, copied -from another journal, and headed "THE LATE DUEL."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We are happy to be able to state," it went on to say, "that Lord Overton, -the sufferer in the late duel with Mr. Chandos Winslow, is proceeding rapidly -towards convalescence.--Very little fever followed the extraction of the ball, -and that which did supervene has quite subsided. The answer to inquiries -yesterday at his lordship's house was, that he had been permitted to sit up for -several hours. Under these favourable circumstances, Sir Henry d'Estragon and -Mr. Winslow have returned to town, but have not yet shown themselves in public."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos would have felt more satisfaction if there had not been one lie at -least in the paragraph; but still he judged that the writer was more likely to -learn Lord Overton's real state than his own movements; and he sought eagerly -through the later papers for further information. He found at length a paragraph -which stated that "Viscount Overton, who was wounded in the late duel at -Wimbledon, is now quite convalescent, and drove out yesterday for two hours in -the park."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos felt as if some angel's hand had effaced the brand of Cain from his -brow: his resolution of giving himself up was of course at an end, it being, -like all resolutions in regard to definite acts, the mere plaything of -circumstances; but he set to work to form other resolutions, which men may frame -with better hopes of their durability, if their own minds be strong. They -affected the regulation of his own passions, the course of his own conduct, the -control of his own spirit. They were good; and they were lasting.</p> - -<p class="normal">It is excellent for man to stand as on a mountain in the outset of life, and -gaze over the many ways before him; to choose deliberately and with cool -judgment, that upon which he will bend his steps, and to pursue it to the end. -Verily, he shall not want success.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos Winslow did so; and he rose tranquillized. Warm and eager by nature, -he had learned from his mother to control himself to a certain point; but that -control was merely according to or within the limits of worldly -conventionalities. He had now found that there were wider obligations; that to -rule his own passions, to check his own vehemence, to submit all his first -impulses to a rigid law, totally independent of the factitious regulations of -society, was a duty which, performed, must lead to peace of mind; and he -resolved to strive so to do against original disposition, and against what is -even more strong--habit.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the subsequent morning he set out early for Northferry, not choosing to -revisit Winslow park again, lest he should encounter one "a little more than kin -and less than kind."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XVIII.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">"Patience, and shuffle the cards," said the sleeper in the cave of -Montesinos; and an excellent good rule it was. Our cards want shuffling; for the -trumps have got packed.</p> - -<p class="normal">A little more than a fortnight after Chandos Winslow had left Northferry for -London, the party assembled at the house of Mr. Tracy on the evening of a cold -January day, consisted of two or three persons besides his own family. There was -the clergyman, Horace Fleming. There was an old lady, who lived at about twenty -miles' distance, and spent the night there, when she dined--very rich, and -somewhat egotistical. There was her niece, an exceedingly pretty little girl, -without a penny, and totally dependent upon her bounty, who sang beautifully, -and was kept under strict rule by her aunt--a sort of human singing bird, which -old ladies will keep in cages now and then; and "last, but not least," was Sir -William Winslow, who had come for two days, and had stayed seventeen. Not that -he had entirely passed his time at Northferry; for he had ridden over more than -once to Winslow Abbey, had met lawyers, and agents, and surveyors, and had -received a proposal and nearly concluded an agreement, for selling the estate, -land, park, and house to the law-agent of Viscount Overton, acting on his lord's -behoof. Some little matters remained to be settled, but nothing of any great -importance. The title was to be taken as it stood; the money was ready to be -paid; and the only question was, whether the timber should be given at a round -sum, or be regularly surveyed and valued. It was altogether an excellent -arrangement; for, although perhaps the price offered was about five thousand -pounds less than the real worth of the property, yet it saved Sir William the -barbarism of pulling down the Abbey; and that was well worth the money.</p> - -<p class="normal">These periods of his absence from Northferry, however, were very short. Sir -William brought them to a close as speedily as possible; agreed to proposals, -which nobody thought he would agree to, with a facility most extraordinary; gave -short answers and few words to every one who applied to him on business, and -rode back to Northferry as soon as by any means he had scrambled through what he -had got to do.</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William seemed a changed man; and nobody could tell by what means the -alteration had been effected. Most people indeed seemed to like him, and to -wonder at the bad reports which had got about concerning him; but the cause of -this marvellous change must be explained.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was a change external, not internal. The man was the same; the demeanour -was altered. The same vehement passions were upon him which had always moved -him; but their operation had taken a different direction. The first day he had -passed at Mr. Tracy's, he had given his arm to Emily, to take her in to dinner, -and he had thought her exceedingly beautiful. The high, pensive character of her -countenance, the voluptuous beauty of her form, the grace of all her movements, -even the coldness of her manner towards himself, had all excited--however -opposite in their apparent tendency--first admiration, and then passion. He saw -her every day; and, with the uncontrollable impetuosity of his nature, he -hurried on, pressing his suit upon her, only restrained from declaring it openly -by the extreme brevity of their acquaintance. Every time he beheld her, his -heart seemed on fire; every time she spoke to him, her words were enchantment -that he could not resist; every time he touched her hand, it sent the blood -thrilling through his veins; and day by day, and night by night he drank in -draughts of love from her eyes, which seemed to intoxicate and leave him no -command over himself. It was, in short, more like the passion of some warm -eastern land than of our cold climate; and there was no folly, hardly any -impropriety, that he would not have committed to call her his with as short a -delay as possible.</p> - -<p class="normal">Emily, indeed, shrank from his fierce and fiery advances, but as he had yet -said nothing, it was impossible to check them as far as she could have wished. -Still she retired from his pursuit; but her very hesitation and withdrawal -seemed to inspire him with fresh vehemence and ardour; and the strong passion -that he felt, all animal as it was, seemed to grow more and more upon him hour -after hour. Mr. Tracy saw the whole with some uneasiness; for he saw no sign of -his daughter returning the feelings which she had evidently inspired in Sir -William Winslow. He was not at all a man inclined to sacrifice his daughter; nor -was he indeed one, in any ordinary circumstances, to thwart her inclinations; -nor did he feel at all sure, in the abstract, that Sir William was the man he -would himself have chosen for her. Not that the latter made himself by any means -disagreeable; far from it. The bird plumes his feathers in the eyes of his mate; -the tabby cat washes her face, and smooths her fur for the eyes of her -companion, according to Pope; and the intensity of his feelings, by the -unaffected course of nature, caused Sir William Winslow to display all that was -good or bright in his character, all that might captivate or attract. He was -witty, he was brilliant, he was gay; and the depth of his passion gave a vigour -and profoundness to his thoughts, a figurative splendour to his expressions, -which might well have carried away any heart not armed and prepared against him. -He was certainly very handsome, too; not that in features or in form he could -compare with his brother; but still, when Chandos was absent, one would hardly -be found to say, that they had seen a finer looking man.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was on the seventeenth evening of his stay there, that, with the party I -have mentioned, he was seated in the drawing-room, after dinner. He had placed -himself as near Emily as he could, but that was not exactly at her side; for she -had contrived, by an intuitive skill in the science of defence, to get the old -lady on one side of her, and her uncle on the other. Mr. Tracy was talking to -the pretty girl who sang, and Horace Fleming--very wretched--was speaking in a low -voice to Rose. Rose was charity itself; and somehow, within the last two months, -her eyes had become wonderfully sharpened to what was going on in people's -hearts. What beautiful eyes they were, when she looked kindly upon one; shining -soft and yet bright, like the light of a planet!</p> - -<p class="normal">What Mr. Fleming had said I did not hear; but Rose replied, "It will be of no -avail. He can never induce her to like him."</p> - -<p class="normal">They were the sweetest words Horace Fleming had ever heard; and with courage -renewed he went over, and standing before Miss Tracy, joined in the conversation -with quiet grace, which woke a world of fiends in Sir William Winslow's bosom.</p> - -<p class="normal">Now, there was one curse upon Northferry, proceeding directly from the -original sin--the love of the fruit of the tree of knowledge. There was a post -from London twice a-day--excellent for commercial men; sometimes good for -solicitors; always agreeable to gossiping ladies, young or old; but the greatest -annoyance possible in a calm, quiet little society, where all the business or -agitation of the day is as well got over at once. The second post at Northferry -House arrived about half-past nine; and the moment after Horace Fleming had left -Rose's side, the butler entered with a salver, upon which appeared an enormous -collection of letters, and a newspaper. Mr. Tracy took the letters, and the -General the newspaper. The former apologized for looking at his correspondence, -and the latter was besought by Rose to see if any one was dead or married.</p> - -<p class="normal">Poor girl, she did not know what she asked. She was like one of those who -seek to look into fate, and find condemnation in the voice of the oracle.</p> - -<p class="normal">General Tracy opened the paper, and turned to seek the important part which -gives so much satisfaction to all ladies; but as he ran his eye down the -columns, it was caught by the words "DUEL AT WIMBLEDON." He was a soldier, be it -remembered; so that he might be excused for pausing.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, what is the matter, my dear uncle?" asked Emily. "Are you appointed to -the command of the forces in India?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, saucy flower," answered the old officer; "but here is something in which -we shall all take an interest, though a somewhat painful one--a duel, Sir -William, in which one of our acquaintances has been engaged, with a relation of -your own;" and he proceeded to read,--"This morning, at an early hour, a hostile -meeting took place, near the old mill at Wimbledon, between Viscount Overton and -Chandos Winslow, Esq., younger brother of Sir William Winslow, Bart., of Elmsly -and Winslow Abbey, the consequences of which, we are sorry to say, are likely to -prove fatal"--Rose turned as pale as death; but her uncle went on--"to the noble -Viscount. The cause of quarrel, it appears, would not admit of any apology on -either side; and after having in vain endeavoured to effect an accommodation on -the field, the seconds, Lord George Lumley and Colonel Sir Henry d'Estragon, -measured the ground; and at the first fire, Lord Overton fell, severely wounded. -The ball penetrated the right side, about six inches below the clavicle, and is -supposed to have lodged under the blade bone, after having traversed the lungs. -The noble Viscount was promptly attended to by Mr. G--e, who was on the ground; -but after having staunched the effusion of blood, the eminent surgeon advised -the immediate removal of the patient to his house in ---- street, for further -treatment. After having ascertained that his opponent was not actually dead, Mr. -Winslow set out for the continent in a post-chaise and four, which was in -waiting, accompanied by Sir Henry d'Estragon; and Lord George Lumley has also -judged it expedient to absent himself from London, till the fate of Lord Overton -is ascertained. We regret to say that the report in ---- street, is very -unfavourable."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thought my brother would not be a fortnight without quarrelling with -somebody," said Sir William Winslow.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed, Sir William," said General Tracy, who did not love him; "what made -you so prejudge your brother? I have heard him very highly spoken of."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A poet shall answer for me, General," replied Sir William Winslow; who, -though the old officer's words did not please him, was unwilling to take offence -at anything said by Emily's uncle;--</p> - - -<p style="margin-left: 15%">"There is a history in all men's lives<br> -Figuring the nature of the times deceased,<br> -The which observed, a man may prophesy,<br> -With a near aim, of the main chance of things<br> -As yet to come to life, which in their seeds<br> -And weak beginnings lie intreasured."</p> - - -<p class="continue">"I judge of my brother by the past, my dear Sir. But it is not for brother to -speak ill of brother; and, therefore, I can but say I am very sorry for this -affair, especially as Lord Overton is a very popular man in London, and by no -means quarrelsome."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is not a very popular man in the country," said Rose Tracy, warmly; "and -what you have said, Sir William, is surely quite condemnatory enough of your -brother, without your adding any more."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We do not yet know the circumstances," said Mr. Fleming, in a mild tone; -"perhaps Mr. Winslow may not have been the aggressor."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Really Sir, I do not see why you should 'perhaps' the matter," answered Sir -William Winslow; "I must know my brother best, I imagine. And I was not aware -that clergymen advocated duelling."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nor do they, Sir William," replied Fleming; "on that point, both were -equally in fault. But the question was, I think. Who was the aggressor in the -quarrel which led to so sad and criminal a result? You will excuse me, however, -for believing that brothers do not always know brothers best. Brotherly love is -not found in all families; and where it does not exist, the judgment is apt to -be prejudiced."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Sir, you are a clergyman," answered Sir William Winslow, with marked -emphasis, "and can venture to comment on family disagreements in a way which -others could not do."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I was utterly unaware that there were any," answered Horace Fleming; "and -sincerely beg your pardon for touching on a subject which, whatever be the -circumstances, must be deeply painful to any right-feeling man. My observation -was intended to be as wide and open as the day, I assure you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was somewhat pointed for the breadth you give it," was the other's reply; -and turning away with a quivering lip, he crossed the room, and spoke to the -pretty little girl, who was seated not far from the small table, where Mr. Tracy -was reading his letters by a lamp. That gentleman had not heard a word of all -that passed regarding the duel between his acquaintance, Lord Overton, and -Chandos Winslow. There was something in the very first letter he opened which -took the colour from his cheek; and the second and the third but blanched his -face still more. As the half light of the shaded lamp fell upon his countenance, -the deep line which had indented itself during the last few minutes between his -eyebrows looked like a dark gash, and every furrow of the brow seemed doubly -deep. General Tracy fixed his eyes upon him with some anxiety; but Mr. Tracy -communicated the contents of his letters to no one; and as soon as Sir William -Winslow crossed the room, he rose and left it, carrying his papers in his hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">When he reached his library, where a light was always burning at that time of -night, he sunk into a chair, and suffered the letters to drop upon the floor, -murmuring, "Heaven and earth! This is destruction--The North line, too! To be -made responsible for debts I had no share in contracting, simply because I let -them advertise my name as a director. The Junction down at nothing, and to be -abandoned! The Western branch rejected! Why two hundred thousand pounds will not -cover it!" and he pressed his hand upon his brow, as if to control the -turbulence of thought.</p> - -<p class="normal">Then he rose and paced the room rapidly, gazing wildly round him at all the -pomp and circumstance of wealth that surrounded him, and comparing it bitterly -with the future beggary which he saw impending. But ere he had taken more than -two or three turns, the door opened, and his brother entered.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is the matter, Arthur?" he said. "Something has agitated you terribly."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Tracy stooped, picked up the papers from the floor, and put them in his -brother's hands, with the simple word, "Read!"</p> - -<p class="normal">General Tracy did read, and his countenance fell for a moment. He instantly -recovered himself. "A heavy loss, Arthur," he said; "and lost in a very foolish -manner. I like plain, straight forward gaming better than this; but still the -affair might be worse. Do not give way after this fashion. We must meet the -matter as it can best be met. There is enough between you and me to cover more -than this; and you know, my dear Arthur, I have none but you and the two sweet -girls--and that little devil of a boy. A hundred a-year he must have; that I have -settled in my own mind. The girls must have their fortunes. That must be done; -but still the two estates will bear more weight than all these sums; and if not, -there is my pay. Two old men do not need much, Arthur; and we shall have enough -for a beefsteak and a bottle of wine, notwithstanding."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Tracy pressed his brother's hand, murmuring, "Oh, Walter, how can I -involve you in my ruin? Besides, large sums will be required immediately, or I -shall be disgraced."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Poo, poo!" said General Tracy; "no man is ruined so long as he has a bed to -sleep on, clothes to wear, a house to cover him, and food to eat. We shall want -none of these things, Arthur. We shall be as rich as Sandy Woodyard, who is -reckoned very well to do; and, as to raising large sums, that will be easily -done, without any loss of time. But your thoughts are all in confusion with this -unexpected stroke. Cast the whole from your mind for to-night; come back into -the drawing-room, and do not let either the baronet or the parson see that you -are troubled; sleep quietly over the affair, and we will arrange the whole -to-morrow. I can raise seventy or eighty thousand pounds at a day's notice. You -can double that; and all I can say, my dear brother, is, that, barring a fair -provision for the two girls, I care not a rush what becomes of the rest. -Besides, some of the shares are worth something. It is not all lost."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Heaven forbid!" answered Mr. Tracy; "but the actual loss is immense; more -than you know, Walter."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no! I see it all," replied the General, glancing again at the letters. -"But it is not so bad. It will be easily managed. The first sight of bad tidings -is always through a magnifying glass. The spectacles will have fallen off your -nose before to-morrow; and in the mean time shut your eyes to the whole concern. -Come along; the people will think it strange if we are both absent together any -longer; and the dear girls will think it strange, which is worse."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Tracy suffered himself to be led back to the drawing-room; and there, by -a great effort, so far conquered the busy and rebellious thoughts within, that -his guests did not discover any difference of manner. His daughters did, indeed; -and both Emily and Rose retired to bed that night thoughtful and sad; for they -were well aware that their father's friendship for Lord Overton was not strong -enough for the intelligence of his being wounded to cause the degree of -agitation they beheld. Rose, too, had her own particular share of sorrow and -anxiety, and her cheek was pale when she arose the next morning, as if she had -known little rest during the night.</p> - -<p class="normal">With Mr. Tracy, the effect of a night's consideration--for it certainly was -not a night's sleep that he obtained--was to plunge him into despair. The first -blow had been stunning. As not unfrequently happens with corporeal injuries, it -had for a time crushed out the full perception of the wound; but when he thought -of the immediate pressure, and the future beggary--when he looked all the -difficulties and disgraces which surrounded him in the face, as they stared at -him through his bed curtains, in the midst of the night, his heart sunk low, -low; and his brain had well nigh given way under the anguish of mind he endured. -He was up early the next morning, with the letters in his hand, and pen and ink -beside him, calculating the full amount of his disaster. It would be tedious to -the reader to enter into details or explanations on the subject--how it happened, -or by what means it was brought about. Suffice it, that he found his ultimate -loss would probably be so large, as to compel the sale of all his estates. That, -if still willing to assist him, his brother must sell, or mortgage deeply, the -family property; and--a matter of much more immediate concern--that the sum of one -hundred and fifty thousand pounds must be raised within a fortnight, to save him -from disgrace. He had taken up money largely, which must be instantly repaid; -and when he thought of all the tedious processes of the law--the impossibility of -hurrying a transaction of such magnitude--the few persons who were capable, or -would be willing to lend such a sum without full investigation of the -security--the utter improbability of his obtaining it in time, his brain whirled, -and in imagination he saw himself torn away from his luxurious home, a beggar, a -bankrupt, and a prisoner.</p> - -<p class="normal">He gazed wildly at the window; his daughter Emily passed across from one -green-house to the other--a vision of loveliness. "Better die," muttered Mr. -Tracy, with his thoughts all whirling; "better die at once!" and he reached out -his hand to the pistols which lay upon the top of the scrutoire. He looked at -them for a moment, laid them down beside him on the table, and pressed his hand -upon his brow. Someone knocked, and, without waiting for an answer, came in. -General Tracy looked at his brother, advanced to the table, put the pistols in -his pocket, and rung the bell sharply. "Arthur," he said, "you are not well. We -must have the doctor.--Go down immediately to Mr. Woodyard," he continued, when -the servant appeared, "and tell him I should like to see him without a moment's -delay."</p> - -<p class="normal">In half an hour more, Mr. Tracy was bled copiously, and found instant relief.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good God!" he said, in a low tone, turning towards his brother, who was the -only person in the room besides the surgeon and himself, "what was I going to -do."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now what the devil is all this, Sir," said the surgeon, who had been -perfectly quiet, and even tender with his old friend, till he saw that he was -freed from the imminent danger which had menaced him, but then instantly resumed -his rude familiarity. "You have been about some cursed folly, Tracy, and burnt -your fingers. I know you--I know you! Every man has some point on which he is a -fool; and the wiser he is on others, the greater the fool he is on that. I can -guess what it is; so there is no use of denying it. That infernal blackguard -Scriptolemus Bond, was not with you a whole morning for nothing, about a -fortnight ago. He has gone to smash; all his bubbles have burst, and he is off -to America with all he could collect. Thank God, he did not get a farthing from -me, though he tried hard; but I know he took you in to the tune of many thousand -pounds; for he told me so, and showed me some of the drafts."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is not the worst of it, my good friend," answered Mr. Tracy, in a low -tone; "there is not one line in which I have taken shares--and I am sorry to say -I have done so to a large extent--which has not fallen almost to the ground."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Upon my word, you must be a very unlucky fellow, not to have one folly -escape without punishment," answered the surgeon. But General Tracy interfered, -saying, "There, there, let him alone, Woodyard. He is not in a fit state of -health or mind to be railed at."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you suppose you know better than I do?" asked Sandy Woodyard. "You are a -conceited old gentleman, upon my word. Stick to your own tools, General. I am -determined I will know all about this business; for I must, and will be informed -of what is pressing on my patient's mind."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is," replied Mr. Tracy, in a slow, thoughtful tone, "that within one -fortnight, my good friend, I have to pay nearly one hundred and fifty thousand -pounds; and forty-nine thousand pounds thereof within four days, without time to -make the necessary arrangements, almost without time for thought. I wrote up to -sell shares, to meet the latter sum, at whatever might be the loss; and the -answer was that letter, telling me that the shares I mentioned were a mere -drug--worth nothing in the market. Is not that enough to press hard upon any -man's mind, Woodyard."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," answered the surgeon, bluntly, "not unless he be a fool. You've plenty -to meet the demand. You may not be as rich as you have been; but you have chosen -to have your dance, and so you must pay the piper. As to the forty-nine thousand -pounds, you can get somebody to advance it. If nobody else can be found, I -will."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You!" said Mr. Tracy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You, Woodyard!" cried the General.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, yes--why not?" replied the surgeon; "I'm a poor devil; but I have got -something, and I have made a little more by these same speculations which have -burnt your fingers, Tracy; only you see I never ventured upon any thing that was -not sure--I touched nothing that was not going--I did not sow a field that was not -ploughed and harrowed. You have nothing to do, therefore, but to let me know the -day, and give me a little bill of sale of your personals and timber to the -amount advanced, and the money shall be ready. Come, come!--do not lose heart. -You will get somebody to advance the other money wanted; and in the mean time, -if I were the General, I would run up to London, and look after these shares and -scrip. I do not believe a word of some of them not bringing in money yet."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Tracy pressed his hand for his only reply; but he felt deeply the worthy -man's kindness, the more, perhaps, from the blunt way in which it was offered.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There, now, keep yourself quiet, and all will go well," continued Sandy -Woodyard, taking up his hat and cane, and bending his steps homeward. But Mr. -Tracy could not do what the surgeon directed. What man of lively imagination can -ever keep himself quiet when danger is still impending over him? Who but -Washington Irving's Dutchman could ever batten down the hatches, and sleep out -the storm. Mr. Tracy felt that the storm was not passed yet. The good surgeon -had afforded unexpected relief, it is true; but still the enormous sum to be -paid within one fortnight, without any preparation for it, rose up to his eyes -like the rock of adamant before the ship of Sinbad the sailor; and he asked -himself again and again how it was to be raised, where it was to be found. There -was no answer. Nevertheless, he assumed a tranquillity which he did not feel; -and assuring his brother that he was better, and his mind relieved of its -greatest burden, he went in with him to breakfast.</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose was pale; but Emily seemed to have had bright dreams, for seldom had her -beauty been more resplendent. Sir William Winslow sat near and gazed at her from -time to time, with eyes full of passion; and as soon as breakfast was over, he -requested to speak a few words with Mr. Tracy alone. That gentleman had not yet -got his newspapers, and, to say the truth, was anxious in no light degree to -look at the share list; but he courteously acceded at once, and led the way to -his library. The conference was long; and when the young baronet came out, his -eyes were sparkling and his air triumphant. He ordered his horses instantly, to -ride over to Winslow Abbey; but while he waited at the door for their coming, he -murmured, "She must be mine--she will never hesitate when her father's safety -depends upon it!"</p> - -<p class="normal">At a furious pace, up hill and down dale, rode Sir William Winslow, to his -old family property, half-killing the groom behind him; and as soon as he -arrived, he asked if Mr. Roberts or Mr. Grubbup, the law-agent of Lord Overton, -had been there.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mr. Roberts hasn't been since Thursday last, Sir William," replied Mrs. -Garbett, who opened the hall doors; "but the other gentleman with the queer -name, is in the drawing-room, waiting for you, Sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William strode to the drawing-room, horsewhip in hand, as if meditating -mischief; but his salutation of the man of law was, on the contrary, quite -condescending; "Well, Grubbup," he said, "I have just heard sad news of Lord -Overton and my mad brother Chandos."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, very sad indeed, Sir William," said Lord Overton's agent; "but I -suppose, of course, Sir, you do not take up the quarrel of your brother in a -matter of business."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, certainly not, Mr. Grubbup," replied Sir William. "I do not take up his -quarrels at all. But what I wished principally to know was this. How will the -transaction between us be affected by the state of Lord Overton. He was not -expected to live, I understand?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is better, Sir William, he is better," answered the man of law. "There is -every hope of his doing well. But even were it not so, I took a little -precaution, luckily, after our last conference, with the approval of Mr. -Roberts, which would render the arrangement binding upon his heirs, exors, and -admors. I drew up this agreement of purchase and sale, which on Saturday last, -not ten minutes before he went to the opera, I got him to sign. Nothing is -wanting but your own signature, Sir William, and the transaction is complete."</p> - -<p class="normal">"With the exception of the payment of the money," said Sir William Winslow; -"but that is a very important part, Mr. Grubbup, especially at the present -moment."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, Sir William," said the agent, "you know the timber--and it is only -usual--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"All very well, my good Sir," rejoined the young baronet, whose eyes had been -running over the paper, and who assumed a very decided, not to say domineering -tone; "but I see the question of the timber is provided for. It is, by this -document, to be taken at a valuation, although I fixed my own valuation before. -Let that pass, however; I will not contest that point. In regard to the payment, -I am decided: I will sign no paper till I am made sure that, by the fifth of -next month, at least one half of the purchase-money shall be paid into my hands. -If you do not make me perfectly sure of that, I will dispose of the property at -once to some one else. You know I have another offer."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Grubbup looked amazed and confounded; but Sir William Winslow convinced -him he was in earnest, by informing him that he had, in fact, need of the sum of -one hundred and twenty thousand pounds, on the day named. The man of law was -terribly afraid of losing all the various comfortable pickings, which men of law -get out of such transactions, if he did not comply; but, after a little -bush-fighting, he found means to satisfy Sir William Winslow that all he desired -should be done; and the baronet rode away with a feeling of triumphant joy in -his heart, at the idea of soon possessing her who had inspired him with a -passion which deserved hardly any other epithet than that of <i>fierce</i>.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XIX.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">It was the evening of a beautiful day in February, when Chandos Winslow -returned by the lanes at the back of Northferry house towards his gardener's -cottage. The scene and the hour were peaceful; and their tranquillity overspread -his heart as if a balm were poured upon it. Frosts had departed to the pole. A -west wind, slightly veering to the south, had brought the breath of summer from -the distant lands. The early-loving thrush was singing his first sweet song upon -the top of a bare tree. It was very pleasant. Chandos wished he had been born a -gardener. Nevertheless, he hurried his pace; for he had a rose to tend. He -fancied--he hoped that she might soon be by the little basin of gold and silver -fish; but he had only two ways of approaching it: one by the gate near his own -house, one by that at the other end of the grounds, which would have brought him -before the windows of the mansion. He went into the cottage then for the key; -and there good dame Humphreys detained him, impatient, for a few minutes, -telling him how kind Miss Rose had been, coming down often to see little Tim; -and how the boy had been sent daily to the school in the village, from which he -had not yet come back, though it was late; and how the gentleman, who had been -there with him one night, (<i>i. e</i>. Lockwood,) had been there the night before, -and again, not ten minutes before, asking about him, and exceedingly anxious to -see him, and very much provoked to find he had not come back; and how he had -gone away grumbling and mumbling, as the old woman called it, and saying to -himself, that as he, Mr. Acton, was not there, he must do it himself, for there -was no time to be lost.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos did not mark her much; but merely telling her, if Lockwood returned, -to say that he would be back in half-an-hour, he took up a light Dutch hoe, -which stood in the corner of the cottage parlour, and went out to the garden.</p> - -<p class="normal">With a hand trembling with that sweet expectation which sometimes shakes the -powerful frame even more than the feeble one, he opened the garden gate and went -in. Close to the entrance he met one of the labourers in the garden, who wished -him good evening, and said he was glad to see him, for the busy time was coming -on. The man was going home for the night, and Chandos soon got rid of him, and -of one of the boys who followed; for the sky was already very grey, and he -feared that any delay might deprive him of the sweet moments coveted. He felt -sure he should find Rose there. The very air seemed to breathe of love. She -could not be absent.</p> - -<p class="normal">He was right. Rose was beside the marble basin, but her eyes were dropping -tears into it. He leaned the hoe against one of the pillars, and her hand was -soon in his. Chandos could not resist the impulse to hold her for one moment to -his heart.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, do not; do not, Chandos," she said. "I have much, very much to tell you; -and it is all sad."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Speak, dear Rose," he answered; "let me hear it at once. Tell me everything; -tell me anything but that you are not mine--that you are to be another's."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no; it is not that," she said, with a faint smile. "I have not time to -tell you to-night, for you see it is growing quite dusk. Come to-morrow. I must -see you--I must speak with you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, stay one minute!" cried her lover, detaining her; "let me know -something, at least, of what it is that grieves you--but a few words, dear Rose."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They must be very sad ones," she answered. "My father is ruined, Chandos. My -poor sister, dear, dear Emily, has consented, to save him from immediate -destruction, to wed, with terrible haste, a man she does not, cannot love--your -own brother, Chandos--and, oh!--what is worse than all--I fear, I am sure, she -loves another;" and Rose wept bitterly.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos was silent for an instant, holding her hand in his, and gazing upon -her with love and sympathy; but the next instant he heard voices speaking, and -steps advancing, in the narrow winding walk behind.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good Heaven, it is your brother!" cried Rose. "I hear his terrible voice. -Fly! fly! Where can I escape him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Up that walk, dear girl," replied Chandos. "I will easily avoid him. I will -leap the hedge there. But let me see you safe first."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no! Go at once, go at once," she cried; and Chandos, in obedience to her -wish, passed through between the pillars, and leaped the low hedge which -bordered a haw-haw that divided the grounds of Northferry from the neighbouring -fields. He had, at first, proposed to cross the next enclosure at once, and -return to his cottage; but it was lighter beyond the precincts of the garden, -than under the shadow of the trees. He did not wish his brother to find him -there; he wished to assure himself that Rose got away unseen, and he remained on -the other side of the hedge, which, as he stood with his feet at the bottom of -the haw-haw, overtopped his head by about nine inches. He had no idea that he -would be witness to more than his brother passing by along the walk, which -approached within about ten paces of the haw-haw on one side, and which skirted -the little factitious ruin above the fish-pond, within a foot or two, on the -other. Had he had an idea of the possibility even of his becoming an -eves-dropper, he would not have hesitated, but crossed the field at once; but -the path was, as I have said, at ten paces' distance, and unless the persons -walking along it spoke very loud, it was impossible for any one in the haw-haw -to hear more than an occasional word, unless the passers-by paused. Thus much is -necessary to the character of Chandos. He paused, but it was to conceal himself, -not to listen.</p> - -<p class="normal">The moment after he had leapt the hedge, Sir William Winslow appeared at the -turn of the little path; but he was preceded a step by another. His brother's -figure Chandos recognised at once, notwithstanding the growing obscurity; but, -for an instant, he could not distinguish who was his companion; for the short, -slight-made man, who accompanied the baronet, was wrapped in one of those loose -formless sort of coats, called paletôts. The next moment, however, the sound of -their voices, raised exceedingly high, and in angry tones, reached him as he -stood and gazed through the hedge; and he recognized that of Mr. Roberts. None -of the words were distinct; but it was evident that both were highly excited; -and, by the sharp and vehement gestures of Roberts, so unlike his usual, quiet, -and staid demeanour, and by the rapid pace at which he walked, with the baronet -following, Chandos judged that the good steward was endeavouring to escape from -provocation beyond endurance, even to his tranquil and equable disposition. Just -as they came up to the little Greek temple, which had been built over the -fish-pond--that is to say, at the nearest point of the walk to the spot where -Chandos was concealed--Sir William Winslow laid a grasp upon Roberts's collar, as -if to stop him in his rapid advance, exclaiming at the same moment, "Damn you, -Sir, what do you mean?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Roberts instantly shook off his grasp, and whirled round confronting him. At -the same moment he exclaimed vehemently, "I will not, Sir William Winslow! If -you will have it, I believe you burnt it."</p> - -<p class="normal">The baronet instantly struck him with his fist, exclaiming, "You damned -rascal!" The next instant his eye seemed to light upon the Dutch hoe, which -Chandos had left leaning against the pillar. He snatched it up, struck the -steward a violent blow on the head with it, which brought him instantly to the -ground, and added another as he fell.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos sprang up, struggled over the hedge, and ran forward. But his -brother, hearing some one coming, darted away up the shrubbery walks, and was -out of sight in a moment. Kneeling down by poor Roberts's side, the young -gentleman raised his head. But what was his horror and distress, when he found -that the two middle fingers of his left hand rested in a deep indentation in the -skull, while a gaping wound in the scalp, cut by the iron of the hoe, was -pouring forth blood profusely! Bending closely down, he saw a portion of the -brain mingled with the gray hair; and, with a feeling of sickening horror at his -heart, he laid the body gently on the ground again, and gazed at it for several -minutes, as if the sight had turned him into stone.</p> - -<p class="normal">Oh, what a dark and terrible moment was that! What a whirlpool of horrible -thoughts did his brain become! What anguish of mind--what wavering hesitation of -purpose--what indignation--what sorrow did he not feel! The first impulse was to -run and call for assistance; but then he shook his head, and murmured "He is -dead! he is dead! No aid can ever bring him back to life." Bending down again, -he pressed his hand upon the wrist, and then upon the heart. There was no -pulsation. All was still for ever! The complicated machine was broken, never to -be repaired again. The lamp drowned out, not to be re-lighted.</p> - -<p class="normal">What should he do? How should he act? He had seen an honest, upright, -noble-minded man murdered before his eyes: but the murderer was his own brother! -They had lain in the same womb; they had hung at the same breast; they had joyed -in the same smiles; the same blood flowed in their veins;--and yet one was a -murderer, the other, the witness of the crime. It was a terrible struggle. Duty -called upon him to denounce the criminal; indignation prompted him to the same -course. By that very brother's acts, brotherly love had long seemed extinguished -between them. Yet Chandos could not make up his mind to be his brother's -accuser, to give him up to trial and to death.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I cannot--I cannot," he said, after a long and painful revery. "Poor Roberts, -I can do thee no good; and I cannot be a destroying angel to my own race. -'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord, I will repay;'" and, turning away from the -fatal scene, he hurried back to the small gate which led out towards his own -cottage.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XX.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">"Who was that I saw crossing the lawn a little while ago?" said Mr. Tracy, -speaking to his valet, who came in to assist him in dressing for dinner.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I saw a gentleman at the door asking for Acton, Sir," replied the servant; -"and, as one of the men met him coming back this afternoon, I told the person -that he would most likely find him in the garden; for he seemed quite a -gentleman, and in a great hurry to speak with him. I hope I did not do wrong, -Sir?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh dear, no," answered Mr. Tracy; "I am glad to hear Acton has come back. -Let him know to-morrow morning, that I want to talk to him."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Tracy went on calmly with his dressing; and when he had done, as the -second bell had rung, he took up a book and read. He was very grave. Thought was -importunate; for, though he had freed himself from present difficulties, yet the -future was dark and menacing; and, at what a price had he purchased temporary -relief? His daughter's happiness--he felt it--had been the sacrifice. He saw that -she did not, that she could not love Sir William Winslow; and yet the baronet, -bending all the energies of his mind to the speedy gratification of the passion -which moved him, had skilfully contrived, with as little appearance of selfish -policy as possible, to make the sum which was immediately necessary to Mr. Tracy -dependent upon the time of the union of his daughter with himself. Without -entering into long explanations, he had stated that he had the power to settle -that sum upon his wife; implying, untruly, that he had not the power of lending -it under other circumstances. Mr. Tracy was obliged to accept his terms without -inquiry. Emily yielded with despair in her heart, and dark forebodings in her -mind. She had but one consolation--one support--that, by the sacrifice of all that -was most dear, she was saving her father. She repeated it to herself a thousand -times a-day; and kept it ever before her in the weary and wearing hours of the -night. It was the only means she had of keeping the bitter anguish of her spirit -from bursting forth before every eye. Do what she would, it did sometimes -appear: and Mr. Tracy felt the silent reproach, and dared not pause and think; -but filled every moment with some occupation, however trifling, which might -withdraw his mind from the terrible consciousness, that he was sacrificing his -child.</p> - -<p class="normal">When the bell rang, he walked down to the drawing-room with a quick step. His -two daughters were there alone--Emily exceedingly pale, but calm, though very -grave; Rose striving for cheerfulness with an effort almost hysterical. The -General was absent in London. Sir William Winslow was not yet down, though he -had only arrived that morning from town, and might be supposed to feel eagerness -to be with his betrothed as much as possible. Five, ten minutes passed; dinner -was announced; and then some more time went by; till, at length, Mr. Tracy sent -up a servant to inform his guest that they waited for him; and in a few minutes -more, Sir William presented himself. His appearance, however, struck everybody -as very strange. His face was usually florid; his manner calm and resolute; his -tone quick and decided,--but now his cheek was like a sheet of gray paper; his -eyes wandering and haggard; his step vacillating; his tone wavering, and his -words confused. He apologized for the tardiness of his appearance, saying, that -he had felt fatigued with his journey, and somewhat ill, and had fallen asleep. -Emily expressed no concern or sympathy, though his excuses were principally -addressed to her. They had had a full explanation together. He knew the terms on -which he obtained her hand; and she did not wish him to suppose her moved by -feelings she did not experience. It was her person he sought to possess, not her -love. That he obtained; she could give no more.</p> - -<p class="normal">Mechanically he offered her his arm, to take her in to dinner; sat beside -her, and talked. It was strange, rambling conversation; sometimes distilled drop -by drop, as if each word were the last he would ever speak; sometimes -frightfully rapid. They formed a strange contrast, he and Emily--she in her calm -taciturnity; he in his perturbed, unequal eloquence. Yet there were strong -feelings at the heart of both: hers high, grand, ennobling; a battle fought, a -struggle striven, a victory won over self:--his turbulent, agitating, oppressive; -a fierce contest, a terrible strife, a losing battle against remorse and dismay. -There was nothing harsh, nothing resisting in her demeanour. It was all done; -the combat of the mind was over--the assent was given: she yielded herself to the -knife: she was Jephthah's daughter in the mountains, the expiation of her -father's folly, prepared or preparing for the sacrifice. She was cold. How could -she be otherwise? But there was no harshness.</p> - -<p class="normal">He, on the contrary, was strangely excited. Every time the door opened, he -turned round with a start, and looked with straining eyes behind him. When the -butler asked in a whisper of Mr. Tracy, what wines he should set upon the table -after dinner--a question he had forgotten to put before--Sir William Winslow -listened with all his ears to catch the sounds, as if they bore matter of life -and death to him; and when Mr. Tracy answered aloud, "Some red hermitage and -claret," he applied himself to talk again with exceeding vehemence.</p> - -<p class="normal">The shadow of the dead haunted him. The gaunt spectre of Remorse was ever -before his eyes.</p> - -<p class="normal">Doubt too--terrible, vague, cloudy, indefinite doubt, the most oppressive of -all states of mind, the most fearful form of Nemesis--hung over him like a -brooding fury. "Was he really dead?" he asked himself; "Was the man slain?" He -had fallen very heavily. That last blow had been followed by a sound strange and -frightful: the cracking of solid bone mingled with a deathly groan. The eyes--he -had seen them even in the dim twilight--had swum mortally in the sinking head. -There had been a gasp which he did not like to think of, a dire clutching after -breath of lungs that would receive it no more. What he would have given to creep -quietly and silently down those wintry walls, and look at the spot where he had -left him! to feel about with his hands in the darkness, and ascertain if the -body was still there! But he sat chained to his seat in marble terror. He dared -not turn his eyes towards the side where the deed had been done; he hardly dared -to think of it, lest his thoughts unwittingly should find a tongue to bear -witness against him. Yet he remembered that no one had seen the deed, as far as -he knew; that he had met the object of his crime by accident, as he was -returning to the house after a short walk in the grounds; that he had -encountered no one by the way, either going or coming; that he had even gone out -of the house by one of the conservatories, which led directly to a close and -narrow walk, so that none could tell he had ever set his foot across the -threshold. All these seemed comfortable reflections; but yet, strange to say, -they brought neither comfort nor assurance. There is a consciousness that murder -has its mysterious witnesses, which ever sits heavily on the felon's spirit. -Why, he knew not, but he felt detected, even while he strove to prove to himself -that detection was impossible. Oh, crime is a terrible thing!</p> - -<p class="normal">Nevertheless the whole of dinner-time passed over quietly: there was nothing -took place to cause alarm; and when Emily and Rose left the table, Mr. Tracy -remarked, "Sir William, you do not seem well. If you would take my advice, you -would send for our worthy surgeon, Mr. Woodyard, and adopt some precautionary -measures. I think you must have overfatigued yourself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I had a hard day's work in London, yesterday," replied his guest, "running -after those lawyers all day long; and I travelled all night. I did not sleep -either, though I usually sleep as well in a carriage as a bed. Perhaps I am a -little heated. My face is flushed, is it not?"</p> - -<p class="normal">It was as pale as death.</p> - -<p class="normal">By Mr. Tracy's persuasion the surgeon was sent for; and was soon in the -house.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, what is the matter with you?" he asked, as soon as the young baronet -was pointed out as his patient; and, pressing his hand upon the pulse, he stared -into Sir William's face, as if he wished to put him out of countenance.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not know, doctor," replied the other. "I do not feel well--am -fatigued--have got a head-ache--my temples throb; and my thoughts are somewhat -confused."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have got something on your mind," said Sandy Woodyard, thinking of -Emily, whom the old man loved dearly, and did not like to see sacrificed; "your -conscience is not quiet, I should think--this is all mental."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What do you mean, Sir?" asked Sir William Winslow, fiercely; his pride and -his courage coming arm in arm to his aid the moment he was attacked in front.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I mean just what I say," replied the surgeon, nothing daunted; "there is no -sign in the pulse or the temperature of the skin, to show any corporeal ailment. -It must be mental; and the best thing to prevent the mind acting too strongly on -the body, will be to let you blood. Bring me a basin and a good stout stick, -flunky."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow submitted willingly enough, though he hated the old man -mortally, for words which touched rudely but unwittingly on the deep concealed -wound. Sandy Woodyard made him grasp the stick tightly in his hand, pierced the -arm, and as the blood spirted forth, indulged in a grim smile, muttering. "Ay, -black--damned black--black blood as ever I saw--very needful to draw this off--we -must have a good drop!"</p> - -<p class="normal">And a good drop he did certainly take; for, whether, from judging it really -necessary, or from a slight touch of malice, he bled the baronet till he -fainted. Sir William was carried to his room, and soon brought to consciousness -again; but good Mr. Woodyard was not aware that, in one respect, at least, he -had conferred a favour, by affording a fair excuse to his patient for not -joining the party below any more that night. Even that was a relief; but it was -not till the next morning that Sir William Winslow was aware of all he had -escaped.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was the custom at Northferry, for the under gardener, every night, before -he retired to rest, to perambulate the grounds, and then to let loose some large -dogs, serving as very necessary guards to a place which, by its open boundaries, -and solitary situation, was much exposed to depredation. On the night in -question, about ten o'clock, he sallied forth, when the moon was just rising, -faint, dim, and watery, as she not unfrequently appears after one of those fine, -warm, unseasonable, February days, with a few thin lines of gray and white cloud -drawn across her sickly disk. She gave a good deal of light, however; and he -took his way along the paths, rather enjoying the walk than feeling it a -burthensome task. When he approached the confines of the grounds, on the field -side, and came near the little temple so often mentioned, he saw, by the beams -of the moon, something lying, partly on the path, partly off, like a large dog -curled up to spring at him; and he paused in doubt and some alarm. The object -remained quite still; and drawing slowly nearer, he found it was the body of a -man. He touched the hand; it was deadly cold; and in terror and consternation he -ran straight across the lawns back to the house. Servants and lights soon -followed him down to the spot; and consternation and horror reached their -height, when it was found, that the very person who a few hours before had been -asking for the head-gardener, at the mansion, had been murdered in the grounds. -The body was already quite stiff; but it was taken up and carried into one of -the tool-houses, while some of the people ran back to give Mr. Tracy information -of the event. The rest gathered round the corpse as it lay upon a gardener's -bench; and many were the comments made--some ridiculous and almost laughable, -some sad, some sublime in their simplicity.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, it is a queer thing to see a dead man, any how," said one of the -spectators, in a very low tone; "they all look so dull like."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Poor man! I wonder what his wife is thinking about now," said another.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! he saw the sun go down that will rise again to-morrow as bright as ever, -and he see it no more," was the observation of an old servant. "Well, my night -will soon come too. God send it be not a bloody one, like his!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Tracy was soon upon the spot; and walking up to the body, he took a -lantern from the hands of one of the men and held it near the corpse, before he -asked for any further information than he had received by the way.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have seen that face before," he said, after considering the countenance of -the dead man for a moment. "It surely is Mr. Roberts, the steward and agent of -Sir Harry Winslow. Yes, it certainly is his face. Here, come forward, Taylor, -and bear witness what we find upon the body. This is a most strange and terrible -affair. I feel almost sure that this is poor Roberts, and the fact of his being -killed in these grounds is most extraordinary."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man he spoke to was his butler, and advancing to his master's side, he -held the lantern while Mr. Tracy examined the contents of the dead man's -pockets. The first thing that was taken out seemed to settle the identity at -once. It was a letter, which had been opened, addressed to "Richard Roberts, -Esquire, Winslow Abbey;" and although Mr. Tracy proceeded to read it, in search -of any information which could lead to a discovery of the murderer, it may be -unnecessary to give the contents in this place, as they have been already laid -before the reader. The epistle, in short, was that which Chandos had written the -night before, after having quitted the park; but to Mr. Tracy's mind it conveyed -no hint of the state of the case. He only saw, that Mr. Winslow had written -somewhat sharply, and he thought, "The poor young man will regret this when he -finds what a sad fate has overtaken an old and faithful servant of his family."</p> - -<p class="normal">He handed over the letter, when he had read it, to the butler, with a pencil, -saying, "Mark it;" and then proceeded with his examination. Nothing had been -taken from the body. The watch was there; the purse was safe in the pocket, -though it contained a good deal of money. The pocket-book, with various papers, -receipts, bills, promissory notes, memoranda, and letters, was also there. Even -a pair of silver spectacles, in a morocco-leather case, had not been disturbed -in the waistcoat pocket; and it became apparent that robbery had not been the -object, or that the assassin had been disturbed before he had time to reap the -fruits of his crime.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next object of examination was the exact spot where the body had been -found; and Mr. Tracy proceeded thither with the under-gardener, followed by all -the rest. There were but few traces of feet, for the gravel walk was hard; but -there was a quantity of blood where the poor man had lain; and while Mr. Tracy -was looking narrowly at the place, one of the men cried, "Here is what did it, -Sir;" and at the same time took up the Dutch hoe which was lying on the grass -hard by. On holding the lantern to the tool, some blood and gray hair was found -upon the blunt edge, and at one corner; and Mr. Tracy ordered it to be conveyed, -exactly as it was, to the tool-house, whither, after having concluded his -personal inspection of the spot, he returned himself. He there paused and -meditated, and at length said to the under-gardener, "Go and call Mr. Acton -hither."</p> - -<p class="normal">In a few minutes, Chandos was in the tool-house. He was perfectly calm and -grave, for he had had time to think and to determine upon his conduct.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here is a very terrible affair, Acton," said Mr. Tracy. "This poor gentleman -has been murdered in the grounds, close to the fish-pond. He asked at the house -for you, it seems; and was directed to seek you in the garden. Look at him -close, and tell me who he is."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not need to look nearer, Sir," replied Chandos, gazing firmly on the -corpse; "it is the body of poor Mr. Roberts, the late Sir Harry Winslow's -agent--as good a man as ever lived."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did he find you in the garden?" asked Mr. Tracy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, Sir," replied Chandos; "I quitted the garden after speaking a few words -to Miss Rose Tracy, by the basin, as she was feeding the gold-fish."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That must have been very nearly at the time he was seeking you," said Mr. -Tracy. "I saw him cross the lawn, and I saw my daughter return about ten minutes -afterwards. Did you quit the garden immediately after you saw her?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Immediately," answered Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you know whose hoe that is?" inquired Mr. Tracy, pointing to the one that -lay by the dead man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mine, Sir," replied Chandos at once; "I left it leaning against the pillar." -And, taking it up, he added, as he looked at it, "The murder must have been -committed with this."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Leave it there," said Mr. Tracy. "Pray what did Mr. Roberts want with you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of that I can have no notion, Sir," was the young gentleman's reply. "I did -not even know that he had been seeking me, till you informed me of the fact just -now." He saw that some suspicion was beginning to attach itself to him; but -Chandos Winslow was not a man to suffer himself to feel personal alarm easily, -and he remained so calm and self-possessed, that Mr. Tracy felt that some vague -doubts which he had entertained had done him injustice.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This affair," he said, at lengthy "is as strange as terrible, and must be -immediately inquired into further. Taylor, you remain here with one of the men -till the constable can be brought up from the village. Then give the body and -the hoe into his charge, and render him every assistance he may require; but -nothing must be taken away or altered till the coroner, to whom I shall write -immediately, arrives. Let everybody, too, avoid the spot where the crime was -committed, in order that any traces which may perhaps be apparent to-morrow, -though we have not been able to find them to-night, may not be effaced."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It may perhaps be better, Sir," said Chandos, "to keep the door by my -cottage locked. Then the men will not pass that way to their work. Here is my -key; I can go round by the house. Sandes has also a key, which can be fetched -from him, if you like."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you know when Sandes left the garden?" asked Mr. Tracy quickly, as if a -new thought had struck him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A little before myself," answered Chandos. "I met him and his boy in the -walk going homeward."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And are you certain this crime had not been committed before he went home?" -was the next inquiry.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perfectly, Sir," said Chandos; "for I must have seen the body if it lay by -the fish-pond, as you said just now. Sandes must have been out of the grounds, -if he went straight forward, before I reached the basin."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is all very strange!" said Mr. Tracy; and, taking the key, he left the -spot, followed close by Chandos, and some of the servants. No further -conversation took place, however; and the young gentleman, with a feeling of -deep gloom, returned to his cottage, leaving fate to direct the course of events -which had commenced so terribly.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXI.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">It was half-past eleven when Mr. Tracy returned; and Emily and Rose had -retired to rest. He had been called out of the room on business, and neither of -the two girls had an idea that anything painful had occurred which might render -their waiting his return either a duty or a consolation to their father. Emily's -days were days of hard labour; of constant combat with feelings wearing and -oppressive; and she first proposed to her sister to go to bed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am weary, dear Rose," she said; "weary of the world, and of myself. -Perhaps I may sleep, and that would be a blessing."</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose hung upon her neck, and wept; but she answered not in words, for she -dared not counsel, and she could not console.</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Tracy sat and wrote for some time after his return--to the coroner, to -some of the neighbouring magistrates; and then he, too, retired to rest, -excited, but not too much for sleep.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the following morning he rose about half-past eight o'clock, and rang his -bell. It was one of the footmen who appeared, and informed him that the valet -had been summoned to attend the coroner's inquest, which had been sitting since -seven.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is strange they did not inform me," observed Mr. Tracy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, Sir, Taylor said he had all the papers," replied the man; "and that it -was a pity to disturb you, as you had not seemed well of late."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is Sir William Winslow up?" inquired Mr. Tracy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, Sir," answered the footman; "his windows are tight closed, and his man -says he often sleeps till ten."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Tracy dressed himself, and went down stairs. He found Rose alone in the -breakfast-room, making tea, after having inquired if he had risen.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Emily does not feel well, papa," she said; "and I advised her to remain in -bed. But what is this terrible news my maid tells me--a man found murdered in our -grounds last night?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Too true, my love," answered Mr. Tracy. "The coroner's inquest, it seems, is -now sitting; and I am not sure that your evidence may not be required, Rose. I -know you have a strong mind, my dear child, and a true heart; and therefore I -trust you will not let the unpleasantness of such a circumstance pain you too -much."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My evidence!" cried Rose--"mine! What can I tell them? I saw nothing of the -matter, or you may be sure I should have told you at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of course," replied Mr. Tracy. "But it seems that Acton, the head-gardener, -must have been in the grounds, and nearly at the spot, within a few minutes of -the time when the crime was committed. He says that he spoke with you at the -basin, and then quitted the grounds at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose now felt how dangerous a thing it is to have any concealment from a -parent. She had gone on in perfect innocence with Chandos Winslow; she was -accidentally a participator in his secret; she would have thought it base to -betray it, even if she had not loved him; yet how much pain and embarrassment -did the concealment in which she had shared, in which she must still share, -cause her at that moment. She answered then with agitation and hesitation: "He -spoke a few words to me at the basin as I was feeding my gold-fish, and left me -as if to go from the garden. I was at the side of the pond after he quitted it. -I am sure he left the garden directly."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Tracy marked his daughter's manner, and thought it strange; but he was -not a very observant man; and his thoughts soon wandered away from that which he -concluded was some merely accidental circumstance. "I must get some breakfast, -and go down directly," he said: "so ring the bell, my love, and pour me out some -tea. Where is the inquest sitting?" he continued, when the servant appeared.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Down at the Cross-Keys, in the village," replied the man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, let me know when they come to view the body," rejoined Mr. Tracy; but -the footman informed him, that the part of the proceedings which he mentioned -had taken place a full hour before. Mr. Tracy then ordered his horse in half an -hour; but the first post came in earlier that day than usual. Several letters -engaged his attention first, and then a paragraph in the newspaper; so that the -horse was kept walking up and down for fully twenty minutes. At the end of that -time he mounted and rode away; but, before he had been gone a quarter of an -hour, the butler, who had taken a cross-cut over the fields, entered the -breakfast-room, as if looking for his master.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Papa's gone down to attend the inquest, Taylor," said Rose, who had remained -in deep thought at the table. "Tell me what has taken place?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, Ma'am, the inquest is all over," answered the butler; "and master will -find them all gone."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But what is the verdict, then?" inquired the young lady eagerly; "what have -the jury discovered?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, I am sorry to say, Miss Rose," replied the man, who seemed to be made -very unwillingly the bearer of bad tidings, "they have given a verdict of -'wilful murder' against Mr. Acton, our head-gardener."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Impossible!" cried Rose, gasping for breath. "He could not be the murderer; -for he quitted the garden while I myself stood by the basin."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He came into it again, Miss Rose," said the butler in a sorrowful tone; "his -feet were traced straight from the haw-haw, back to the very spot where the dead -body was found. Some of his clothes were bloody, too, and those the very clothes -he had on last night. The hoe too, with which the poor old man was killed was -his; and nobody can deny it is all very suspicious: and so they have sent him -off to the county gaol."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nonsense! nonsense!" cried Rose; "it was not, it could not be he;" and -darting out of the breakfast-room, she entered the adjoining chamber, cast -herself into a chair and burst into a violent fit of tears. Then rising -suddenly, she threw open the glass doors and walked out into the grounds, as if -she were half-crazed, without bonnet or shawl. On she went straight towards the -basin where the fatal event had taken place, hurrying forward with a rapid pace, -as if in hopes of discovering something which might exculpate her lover. She had -passed through the first plantation, which lay within sight of the house, and -was then going round by the walk which bordered a little second lawn, among the -shrubberies, when she thought she heard a voice near, cry, "Hist! hist!" and -turning round, she saw coming out between two of the stone-pines on the other -side of the lawn, the gipsey-woman, Sally Stanley.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Rose! Rose Tracy!" cried the woman; "hark to me, pretty lady; I have -something to say to you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is it?" cried Rose, advancing to meet her; "tell me, tell me quickly! I -think I shall go mad."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Amongst the trees, amongst the trees," said the woman, "where nobody can see -us; though the gardener-people are all out of the way, revelling, as men always -do, over the misfortunes of their fellow-creatures."</p> - -<p class="normal">The day before, Rose would have been afraid to trust herself alone with that -woman among the shrubberies; but anxiety for him she loved had extinguished all -personal fear, and with a quick step she led the way into a dark, narrow walk, -seldom trodden.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is it?" she asked, as soon as they were beneath the boughs; "what have -you to tell me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I saw him, as they were putting him into the chaise," said the old woman, -with a low voice; "and the constable let me ask him, what was to become of my -little boy. I knew what the answer would be well enough; but I thought it would -give him the means of speaking a word with me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What did he say? what did he say?" cried Rose, totally forgetting in her -eagerness how she was committing herself to a stranger, of not the most -reputable class of society.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He said," replied the woman, "that the boy would be taken care of by the -General, and then, in a quick whisper, he bade me 'tell her who would be most -interested in his fate' not to be alarmed; for he could clear himself in a -moment, whenever he chose to speak."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thank God!" cried Rose Tracy; and, clasping her hands together, she burst -into a flood of tears.</p> - -<p class="normal">The woman stood and gazed at her with evident interest. "Ay," she said at -length, "love's a pretty thing; but yet it breaks many a heart and turns many a -brain. It turned mine once. But you'll marry him yet, pretty lady; I know it, -and I have told you so."</p> - -<p class="normal">Her words recalled Rose to herself; and the thought of how clearly she had -exposed all the innermost feelings of her heart to that gipsey-woman, made the -blood rise to her cheek till it glowed with crimson. Nevertheless, taking out -her purse, she drew forth a sovereign, to reward her for the relief she had -given; but the woman put it away with her hand, saying: "Not a penny--not a -penny, from one that he loves and who loves him. I will bring you news of him -from time to time. And don't you be afraid when you see the gipsies near you; -there is not one of them will hurt you. And he will be proved innocent, depend -upon it."</p> - -<p class="normal">A thought--perhaps I ought to call it a suspicion--suddenly crossed the mind of -Rose Tracy. "Could the gipsies," she asked herself, "have any share, or any -knowledge, of the crime which had been committed?" Here was one of them now in -the garden, when she had every reason to believe the gates were locked. Might -not such have been the case with some of the men of the tribe on the preceding -evening? They were a bold, reckless, lawless race; and any slight offence, any -small temptation, might have led them, she thought, to commit such an act. Yet -what was she to do? She was there alone with that strange woman; there might be -others near at hand. She had no proofs; she had no legitimate cause even for -imputing to her people so terrible a crime. She dared not do it; and yet to save -Chandos Winslow, what would she not have done? A tremor came over her; and she -continued for more than a minute gazing fixedly upon the dark, sun-burnt -countenance before her, which, with all its beauty, had something wild and -strange about the eyes.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is the matter?" asked the gipsey at length; "what do you fear?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nothing, nothing," replied Rose. "But I would only say one word to you. Oh, -if you know who has committed this crime! oh, if you can save an innocent man by -revealing the name of the guilty, I adjure you, by all that is most sacred, to -do so; I adjure you by the God that made us, by the Mediator who saved us, by -your feelings as a woman, by your feelings as a mother, if you would not one day -see your own child condemned for crimes he did not commit, speak now, if you can -give the name of the real murderer."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Poor thing!" answered the gipsey, "poor thing! you love him very terribly. -But be assured, that if I knew who had done this deed I would tell it at once, -even if there was no such person as Chandos Winslow upon earth. The murdered man -was a good man, and kind--kind to me and my people, when there were few to be -kind. But it will be found out. Murdered men die; but the murder dies not; and -it hunts the doer of it to death. Murdered men are silent; but their blood cries -out from the dust, and makes itself heard. Murdered men are still; but there is -an arm stretched out to strike the murderer, which faileth not, no, and shall -never fail!"</p> - -<p class="normal">She spoke like one inspired, with her dark eyes flashing, her round, -beautiful arm raised, and the extended finger trembling in the air; then -suddenly turning away, she left Rose silent and overpowered.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXII.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">The three following days were days of terrible activity; but that was what -was requisite to every one at Northferry--even for peace. There was only one who -took no part in all that occupied the rest--Emily Tracy. She was totally -inactive. She did nothing, spoke little, hardly seemed to think.</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow was all fire and haste. When the news was first -communicated to him, that his agent, Mr. Roberts, had been murdered in the -grounds of Northferry-house, his manner denoted a severe shock; and when it was -added, that the head-gardener, one Acton, between whom and Mr. Roberts there was -some unexplained connexion, had been committed for the murder, he seemed to -rejoice almost with a fiendish sort of triumph. He declared he would spare no -means to bring the fellow to justice--that he would pursue the rascal who had -killed good old Roberts, as if he had slain a relation of his own. Then, -however, he recollected what embarrassment and annoyance might take place, in -regard to all the affairs that his steward had been conducting, just upon the -eve of his marriage too; and he rode over to Winslow Abbey, drove to Elmsly, -paying the post-boys enormously to go quick. He went hither and thither like -lightning; never stayed in any place more than an hour or two; was quick and -hurried in his conversation, though sometimes lapsing into fits of intense -thought. He drank a great deal of wine, too, at dinner, at supper, even in the -morning; but it did not make him tipsy; and he transacted much business in the -most rapid manner. Indeed, it was necessary that he should do so; for the third -day after the committal of Chandos was the time appointed for the payment of the -sums owed by Mr. Tracy, and for the signature of the marriage settlements. The -morning of the fourth the marriage was to take place; and Sir William had -a-thousand things to do before that event. However, all was done. The agreement -for the sale of the Winslow Abbey estate finally signed, part of the -purchase-money paid, and received; Mr. Tracy's pressing debt discharged; and the -marriage settlements of Emily Tracy and Sir William Winslow marked with the -signature of both. Emily's name was written in a fine, clear, distinct hand, -every letter as straight and as firm as if it had been a specimen of penmanship. -Sir William's, on the contrary, was hardly legible; each stroke running into the -other, some big, and some small, with a break here and there, as if the pen, or -the hand, had refused to perform its office.</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Tracy was occupied all day, and the part of several nights, in the -business of different kinds which had lately accumulated upon him. He had many -letters to write, many preparations to make; and he made the many more, the -unimportant important. He saw little of his children, except at their meals. -Emily's eyes reproached him, and perhaps Rose's still more; for she felt -deeply--terribly, for her sister. But Mr. Tracy tried hard to steel himself. He -recollected all the conventional cant of "romantic girls," and of "love coming -after marriage;" and of "those marriages being generally the happiest where -reason was consulted rather than passion." But Mr. Tracy could not convince -himself. He had lived too long out of the sphere of the great world for its cold -sophistries to have much weight with him. He felt that he was destroying his -daughter's happiness, if not affecting her health, and endangering her life; and -the only tangible consolation he could apply to his own heart, was found in the -reflection, that she must herself have shared in the ruin which her marriage -with Sir William Winslow averted.</p> - -<p class="normal">General Tracy was not at Northferry. Mr. Tracy had, with a cowardice not -altogether singular, concealed from his brother the compact between Sir William -and himself, till the old officer was in London; and had then written to tell -him that Emily was engaged to the young baronet, and to be married immediately. -Sheets of paper do not blush, which is a great relief to many who are doing -weak, wicked, or foolish things. General Tracy had replied in a letter which Mr. -Tracy had only read half through, and then burned, with a shaking hand; but as -the day of the marriage approached, and he knew his brother would arrive before -it, he became uneasy, irritable, listening for carriage-wheels, and evidently -working his courage up for an encounter that he dreaded.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was not till the day before that appointed for the marriage, however, that -General Tracy arrived; and his carriage passed the gate about an hour before -dinner. He found his brother, Sir William Winslow, and Rose, in the -drawing-room; shook hands with the former and the latter, and bowed stiffly to -the baronet. For five minutes he talked of ordinary subjects, mentioned the -world of fashion, and the world of politics, talked of the mutations of stocks, -and corn, and men's opinions; and then saying, "I have a good deal of news to -give you, Arthur, after dinner; but it will keep till then," he rose, and left -the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">General Tracy proceeded not to his own chamber, however; but walked straight -to that of Emily, and knocked at the door. The well-known step was heard by her -within, and the voice of Miss Tracy instantly answered, "Come in." The maid, who -was dressing her, left the room; and the moment she was gone Emily threw herself -into her uncle's arms, and wept. "Oh, I am so glad to see you," she said.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Calm yourself, dear Lily," said General Tracy, "and speak to me two or three -words with your own truth and candour. Answer me first one question."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, my dear uncle," said Emily; "you first answer me one. I am sure you -went to London to seek means of relieving my father. He has told me all; and -therefore there need be no concealment. What have you done to assist him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But little, my dear child," answered her uncle. "There is every probability, -indeed, of many of these speculations rising in importance ere long; but at the -present moment, the sale of all the shares would not produce a sufficient sum to -meet even the first pressure. Nevertheless, dear Emily, that must not be the -cause of your whole happiness for life being sacrificed. I have seen the -principal parties concerned; they seem ready to receive an offer I have made -them, after having my estate valued; and if, as I fear, this proposed marriage -is repugnant to all your feelings, it must not take place."</p> - -<p class="normal">"After having your estate valued," repeated Emily, in an abstracted tone; but -then raising her head suddenly, she added, "my dear uncle, the marriage is not -only proposed, but finally settled. I will not jilt any man. I will not ruin my -uncle and my father. I will not retract my promise given. Thank you, thank you, -dear uncle. Love your poor Emily ever; and your affection and my father's will -be my reward."</p> - -<p class="normal">Emily again cast herself into his arms to weep there; but General Tracy could -make no impression, though he tried to shake her resolution. Her fate was fixed; -her mind made up. She was not to be changed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What if I were to quarrel with, call him out, and shoot him?" thought -General Tracy, as he retired from his niece's room to his own. "Why, it would be -murder--that will not do." And, sad, angry, and discontented, he dressed, and -went down to dinner. He was a gentleman, however; and he carefully avoided every -subject which might lead him to show the irritation he felt. He did not, indeed, -court conversation with Sir William Winslow; and his words, when any took place -between them, were as brief as possible, but perfectly civil. Indeed, when he -looked at him, and saw his pale cheek and haggard eye, he felt inclined to pity -him. "That fellow is creating his own wretchedness, as well as that of the poor -girl," he thought. "What a fool he must be! He sees she does not love--never will -love him; and yet he persists. If he must <i>buy</i> an unwilling wife, why the devil -does he not go to Constantinople?"</p> - -<p class="normal">A moment or two after, however, anxious to turn his thoughts from the most -painful subject they could rest upon, he addressed Mr. Tracy, saying--"By the -way, Arthur, let me hear something more of this horrible event which you just -mentioned in your last letter; but which is filling all the London papers, with -tales of blood. Is it true, that Acton has been taken up on suspicion?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not only taken up, but committed upon the verdict of the coroner's jury," -replied Mr. Tracy.</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow filled the tumbler that stood next to him with wine, and -drank it off.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The coroner's jury must be a pack of fools," said General Tracy. "Really, -juries are becoming worse than a farce: a pest to the country. I have not seen a -verdict for twenty years that did not bear the stamp of prejudice, falsehood, or -idiotcy upon it. There is a regular hierarchy of fools in England, proceeding -from the coroner's jury to the grand jury, assisted by all their officers, from -the coroner to the chairman of the magistrates. Rose, my flower, you do not seem -well. Take a glass of wine with me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not wonder she turns pale," said Mr. Tracy, "when you call up such a -terrible subject again, Walter."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, let us try something better," said the General. "How is Fleming going -on? Has he got his house in order, yet? all the great rooms papered and -painted?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has been absent for ten days," said Mr. Tracy, who felt at his heart that -his brother had not been more fortunate in his choice of a topic this time than -before. "He is not expected back for a month."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am sorry for that," said General Tracy; "he is the most agreeable parson I -ever met with--a gentleman--a man of sense, of feeling, and of talent. Such a man -is a great resource in a neighbourhood like this."</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose raised her eyes imploringly to her uncle's face, then turned them -towards Emily, and the subject dropped.</p> - -<p class="normal">With such a beginning, how could the evening pass?</p> - -<p class="normal">The next morning, at the hour of nine, Mr. Tracy's carriage conveyed four -people, each enduring their own peculiar sort of wretchedness to the -parish-church of Northferry. Emily was--or seemed--the least agitated of the whole -party.</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow was there before them; and, in a few minutes, he and his -poor bride stood before the altar. She was deadly pale; but she shook not, she -wept not. She made no responses; but the clerk did it for her; for he was so -much accustomed to marrying, and giving in marriage, that he could not refrain -from playing the part of bride or bridegroom, as the case might be, whenever he -saw or thought the parties were incompetent to play it for themselves.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length there came something which roused the unhappy girl from the stupor -of her misery. The ring touched her ringer, glided up it, making her his with -its cold chilling clasp. It was over--the effort was complete--the struggle -finished! the die cast! She was the wife of a man she detested! She felt it but -for an instant. The next, she was lying like a corpse at her father's and her -husband's feet--pale as monumental marble; and, to all appearance, as cold and -lifeless, too.</p> - -<p class="normal">They took her up, and carried her into the vestry; but nought they could do -seemed to have any effect in restoring animation. Yet it was evident, that -though the swoon was deathlike, it was not death; and Mr. Woodyard was sent for -in haste. Sir William Winslow gazed on her with a dark brow and a chilled heart. -He felt that she hated him: he knew that he had marred her young dreams of love -and joy; that he had made life to her like her own fine frame as it lay there -before him--a body without a spirit. A cloud came over him, and snow fell from -the cloud upon the fierce animal fire of his breast. As he remained, with eyes -intent, and fixed upon her, some one opened the vestry-door, and a voice asked, -"Is Sir William Winslow here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">He turned suddenly round, and after looking at the man who made the inquiry--a -man like an ostler or a groom--he replied. "Yes. What do you want with me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Please you, Sir William," said the man, advancing, and tendering a letter, -"I was told to bring you this as hard as I could gallop from the town of S----; -and I have not been more than two hours from post to post. I was to deliver it -wherever you might be."</p> - -<p class="normal">The baronet took the letter, and as he gazed at the superscription, a -contemptuous smile curled his lip. "That will do, my good fellow," he said, -without opening it. "I know whom it comes from."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ye'd better read, Sir," said the man; "for the lawyer gentleman who gave it -me, said it was matter of life and death."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I don't think so," answered the baronet. But he broke the seal, -nevertheless; and the moment his eye had run over the first lines, his -countenance changed. He became, if possible, paler than her on whom he had just -been gazing. He trembled in every limb. He could not at all restrain it; his -whole frame shook.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good God! what is the matter now?" cried Mr. Tracy, looking up from his -child. "What has happened, Sir William?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must go," said the other wildly. "I must get over at once--I must leave -you, Mr. Tracy---leave my bride--my wife. This, Acton--this--this--Heaven and earth, -how shall I act?--what shall I do?--He--he whom I--he is my brother--he knows--he -is--my brother."</p> - -<p class="normal">He let the letter drop as he spoke; but instantly picked it up again, and -grasped it tightly in his hand. Mr. Tracy and the General, greatly shocked, and -feeling for the agitation that they witnessed, though they knew not all its -causes, pressed him to go over to his brother at once, leaving Emily to their -care.</p> - -<p class="normal">The young clergyman who officiated for Mr. Fleming, ventured quietly to -say--he was of a somewhat strict school--"The marriage cannot yet be considered as -complete, Sir; and the ceremony had better be performed entirely again upon -another day; for I have not yet joined their hands."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow gave him a fierce, impatient look, hurried out of the -vestry, threw himself into his carriage; and, amidst the wonder and -disappointment of the crowd of townsmen, ordered the post-boys to drive to S----.</p> - -<p class="normal">A moment or two after, Mr. Woodyard came in. The surgeon was an old and dear -friend; he was the first person who had held Emily in his arms when she came -into the world; his love for her was almost paternal; and the sight of her in -such a state, acting on his affection and his peculiar character, induced him in -the very first instance to abuse everybody in the room in the most violent and -outrageous manner. Her father, her uncle, even the curate and clerk had all some -share of vituperation; but the moment the storm had blown over, he applied -himself zealously to restore her to consciousness, and succeeded in about -half-an-hour. As soon as she seemed capable of comprehending anything that was -addressed to her, General Tracy bent down his head, saying, in a low voice, "He -is gone, Lily--he is gone, and will not be back for some time."</p> - -<p class="normal">It was a strange topic of consolation for a bride to hear that her bridegroom -had left her; but yet, it afforded to Emily the only comfort she was capable of -receiving. She looked round the circle, she saw none but friendly faces, and a -faint smile came upon her beautiful lips. Rose pressed her hand tenderly, and in -doing so her fingers touched the fatal ring. Without knowing well why--without -pausing to consider--acting solely on impulse, Rose drew it gently off, without -Emily being conscious of what her sister did. The moment it was done Rose was -half frightened at her own act. But she recollected that the clergyman had said, -the marriage was not complete, and she internally prayed to Heaven that it might -never be rendered so.</p> - -<p class="normal">A few minutes more, and Emily could sit up; but it was nearly an hour before -Mr. Woodyard would suffer her to be removed to Northferry house. Once there, she -returned immediately to her own room, with Rose; and an eager consultation -followed between Mr. Tracy and his brother, in regard to the embarrassed -circumstances in which the family were placed. General Tracy had much -consideration for his brother--I might almost call it tenderness. He felt that he -wanted vigour of character and power of mind; and he had all his life been -accustomed to spare him, from motives of affection and a certain sense of -dignity, which always prevented him from triumphing over weakness. In the -present case he recurred not at all to the past; but, with his usual cutting -decision, he expressed his opinion upon the present and the future.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The marriage is not complete, Arthur," he said; "and I thank God that it is -not--hear me out, my good brother. The clergyman himself has pronounced, that the -ceremonies required by the church have not been performed, and we are bound, as -Emily's relations, to look upon it as no marriage at all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then the whole will have to be performed over again," said Mr. Tracy; "which -will be terribly distressing to the poor girl's mind."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I never yet heard," answered General Tracy, dryly, "that a man who is going -to be hanged objected to a respite, though the hanging might come after all. -Emily will have time for thought, aye, and time for decision."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not see that there can be any doubt to decide," said Mr. Tracy; -"although, as you say, the marriage may not be complete, yet it has proceeded -sufficiently far to be a bar to her union with any one else."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I dare say she would rather never marry at all," replied the General, "than -marry a man she hates. But, at all events, my dear brother, we can have lawyers' -opinions on that point. For my own part, I thank God for any obstacle."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you do not consider, Walter, the whole of this large sum of money which -he advanced in my greatest need, must be repaid immediately, even if we -hesitate."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Damn the money!" cried General Tracy, his impatience getting the better of -him. "Did I not write you word, Arthur, that the people who hold the most -pressing claims were willing to receive my property in pledge for the payment?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But it was then too late," replied Mr. Tracy; "the whole matter was -arranged; my word given, and Emily's."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The whole matter is now disarranged," answered General Tracy; "and if -Emily's reluctance, which is self-evident, continues unabated, I tell you -Arthur, it is your duty as her father to sell your estates at any loss, to do -anything, in short, rather than sacrifice your child. However, I am determined -that if there be a possibility of rescuing her, I will do it. The point of law -shall be ascertained immediately; and I would rather fight Sir William Winslow a -dozen times over, than see our poor Lily as I saw this morning. If I shoot him -the matter is settled, and if he shoots me, I am sure enough that she will never -have anything to say to the man who killed her uncle."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nonsense, nonsense," cried Mr. Tracy, "do not talk of such extreme -measures."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why not?" demanded the General, "I have seen you going to shoot a much -honester man than he is, Arthur, merely to deliver yourself from sudden -embarrassment. Do you think I would not do the same, or be shot myself, to -deliver that sweet girl from the misery of a whole life?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Tracy coloured highly, but did not reply. The consultation, however, as -so many consultations do in the world, proved perfectly in vain. The day passed -over without the return of Sir William Winslow. General Tracy explained to -Emily, first, what had so strangely and unpleasantly called away Sir William -Winslow, and then that her marriage was not complete, that he and her father had -determined that the ceremony, if performed again at all, should not be renewed -for some weeks; and that in the meantime he would take the opinion of some -eminent lawyers, as to how far the engagement entered into was actually binding. -He asked her for no decision on her own part. He hardly even hinted that she -might be called upon to decide; and Emily gladly seized the present relief, and -cast the burden of thought upon the future. More than once she looked down at -her hand, however, and at length said, in a low voice, "Surely the ring was upon -my finger, and now it is gone. Could it be a dream?" General Tracy could give -her no explanation, and therefore he held his tongue; but he had the -satisfaction of seeing that his niece's spirits in some degree returned during -the evening, that from time to time she was even cheerful, although she often -fell into deep fits of thought; and that on the whole, her mind was relieved by -delay.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the following morning the post from S----, brought a letter for Mr. Tracy, -in Sir William Winslow's hand, the contents of which may tend to shorten -explanations. It was very brief and to the following effect:--</p> - -<br> -<p style="text-indent: 15%">"My dear Sir,</p> - -<p class="normal">"I write with a mind terribly agitated. The horrible situation in which my -brother is placed, the doubts I entertain of the result of his trial, the -disgrace and shame of such a proceeding altogether, quite overwhelm me; and I -feel myself unable to face the world.--I hardly know what I write or what I am -doing.--I have determined to quit England till the first scandal of this has -passed by. My love for Emily is unabated--will never abate; but I dare not--cannot -face all this. I will write again when I can calm my mind, and will return as -soon as anything is sure regarding my brother's fate--at present I am -half-distracted; but nevertheless,</p> - -<p style="text-indent: 35%">"Yours ever,</p> - -<p style="text-indent: 45%"><span class="sc">"William Winslow."</span></p> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Emily was not down, and Mr. Tracy handed the letter to his brother, saying, -"Some of our difficulties are removed for a time, Walter."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A very strange epistle, indeed," replied General Tracy, when he had read it. -"I think he is somewhat more than <i>half</i> distracted."</p> - -<p class="normal">"May I see it?" asked Rose; and her uncle gave her the letter. She read it -attentively once--then read it again; and then she thrust it from her, with a -shudder.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What is the matter, Flower?" asked her uncle, as he marked her emotion; but -Rose held down her head, with her eyes fixed upon the pattern of the -table-cloth, and replied, "Nothing, my dear uncle; but that I do not think that -letter is true. It does not seem to me sincere. I think there is something more -under it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Rose, you are prejudiced," said Mr. Tracy; for weak people are always fond -of being very candid. "You do not like Sir William Winslow, and you judge -harshly of him. His faults were anything but those of a man wanting in -sincerity--he was too vehement, too passionate for that. What makes you think -that there is any thing untrue in his letter?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because he never showed the least feeling of any kind for his brother," said -Rose. "I do not think all this agitation, all this distraction is natural, -unless he is moved by stronger and more personal feelings than either regard for -his brother, or fears of disgrace through him. But you must not ask me, my dear -father, what I think, what I feel, or why. I have often heard you say, that -women have more instinct than reason. God grant that my instinct be wrong in the -present instance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Rose, Rose," cried her father, "this is really too much, my love. Be more -generous; be more candid!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, papa," she answered, "I may be wrong, very wrong; but it would be a -great satisfaction to me to know, if Sir William Winslow ever saw his brother -yesterday--if he has taken any measures, or provided any means for his defence."</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose, to her own horror and dismay, had been suddenly led very near the -truth, by the doubts created in her mind by the wild and rambling tone of Sir -William Winslow's letter. Two or three facts presented themselves to her memory -in an instant, which, if she had not quite forgotten them, had not connected -themselves before in her thoughts with the crime which had been committed. She -now remembered that while speaking with Chandos by the side of the pond, she had -heard the voice of his brother coming towards the very spot where the deed was -done; she remembered that there was another voice also speaking in tones not -familiar to her; and she also recollected that the sound of both was loud and -angry. She dared not express what she thought, without further consideration; -she feared to cast an unjust doubt upon a man who might be innocent; but she -determined, without the slightest consideration of how it might affect herself, -to state all that she knew, if necessary, to Chandos Winslow's justification.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You shall have your doubts solved this very day, my Flower;" her uncle -replied to her last words; "for I will go over to S----, and see our poor -prisoner. I like the lad much; I am quite sure he is innocent; and I think with -you, that this letter is not written in a natural tone. As soon as I have seen -dear Lily, I will have horses, and go."</p> - -<p class="normal">General Tracy did not fail to execute the intention thus expressed; but it -may be as well to state at once, what had been the course of Sir William -Winslow, without waiting for the old officer's report. On quitting Northferry, -the baronet sunk back in his carriage, and gazed forth from the windows with a -straining eye, full of horror and dismay, for nearly a quarter of an hour. Then, -with a start, he raised himself, and looked at the letter which he held crumpled -up in his hand. He smoothed it out, he tried to read it; but his hand shook so -fearfully, that he could with difficulty make out the characters. "You had -better quit England as soon as possible!" he repeated. "He is right--he is -right!" Then turning to the page, he read--"I will not betray you--but facts may -be elicited at the trial of a dangerous kind." "Not betray me," continued the -baronet, commenting upon what he read; "to be sure he will to save his own -life--I will not trust him--no, no! He is right. I will quit England. Shall I see -him first? It might be better, perhaps--No, I cannot, I will not--I must try and -be calm, however. People will suspect something. What shall I do with this?" and -he looked at the letter. "I wonder how he got them to bring it without breaking -the seal?--By the lawyer, I dare say--I must destroy it."</p> - -<p class="normal">He proceeded to do so, tearing it into very minute pieces. But then he feared -that they might be found, and put together again; and some he strewed upon the -road from the carriage window, letting piece by piece blow away, each at a great -distance from the other.</p> - -<p class="normal">Some he let fall into the bottom of the carriage, taking care that they -should be disunited from the rest, and that they bore nought but the most -ordinary words without the context. Some he actually ate. Do not let the reader -think it improbable or exaggerated. He actually ate them. When he arrived at the -inn at S----, he did not either walk or drive to the prison; but he ordered horses -on to the sea-coast, and then entering the hotel, wrote the short note we have -already read to Mr. Tracy. In ten hours his feet were no longer upon British -ground.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXIII.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">It was in a cell of the prison of S----. The prison had not been modernized. It -was not a red brick building picked out with white: a gaol in a harlequin's -jacket. Nor was it a snug, free-stone, gentlemanly house, with big fetters and a -figure of Justice over the door, looking half asleep under her bandage, and -ready to drop both scales and sword. It was an old-fashioned English prison--not -a bit the better for that--heavy, massive, soiled with the smoke of -manufactories, and turning its black unmeaning shoulder to the street, with one -window looking out, like the eye of Polyphemus, over the huge mouth-like door, -where so many victims went in. The interior accommodation corresponded well with -the unpromising exterior. Nobody could say he had been deceived into high -expectations by the outside, when he found himself ushered into a cell of nine -feet by six, with a grated window high up, a chair, a table, and a bed. It was -just what the bricks in the wall foretold. There sat Chandos Winslow, by the -table, with fetters on his legs. The magistrates were very fond of fetters. They -fettered everybody and everything--oven their own intellects--and they instantly -fettered Chandos Winslow, though the utility of the thing was not apparent, -seeing that he could sooner have eaten the prison than got out of it; and the -injustice of the act was self-evident, for he had neither committed nor been -found guilty of any crime "worthy of death or bonds."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos was not alone, however. On the other side of the table sat a -gentleman of a very prepossessing countenance, dressed in black, with -exceedingly white linen. He was neither tall nor handsome, but his figure though -slight was well formed, and his face, though certainly plain, was sparkling with -high intelligence. There was a mildness in it too, which chastened the vivacity; -and an earnestness which gave depth to the whole. You have seen him, reader, -have you not, either moving the hearts of the jury, and shaking the opinions of -the judge; or pouring forth in the Commons those rich, clear streams of -convincing eloquence, which carried heart and mind away with them. He is gone! -The brief bright career is finished! The grave holds him! Peace to his ashes! -honour to his memory!</p> - -<p class="normal">And now he sat opposite Chandos Winslow gazing in his face with those large -earnest eyes of his, and addressing to him a solemn and impressive exhortation. -He had known him intimately for some years; indeed, they were distantly -connected, for Lady Winslow had been a Devonshire woman; and the eminent -barrister had come down at once, at a great sacrifice, to make himself master of -his friend's case in person, more completely than he could have done, had he -trusted alone to briefs and consultations.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My dear Chandos," he said, "the very first thing between us must be perfect -frankness. I have got rid of your solicitor, because he might be an impediment; -but I must know exactly how you stand, in every respect, in order that I may -defend you to the best of my ability."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of course, F----." said Chandos, "you do not suppose me guilty of the murder -of poor Roberts."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Guilty of his murder, I certainly do not," answered the barrister; "but a -man may produce death without being guilty of murder. Now you are all a very -vehement family. Your father was hasty, your brother is still more so; and you -are yourself not without a tinge of the family infirmity. You are by no means an -unlikely man to strike a rash blow in a moment of passion; but all I say is, you -must give me a clear view of all the circumstances, not for your own sake alone, -but for mine; for you must recollect that a lawyer, if he be worthy of his -calling--which is a high one whatever men may say--considers his own honour as -involved in the manner in which he conducts a cause; and he never can do so -well, without full and candid explanations on the part of his client."</p> - -<p class="normal">There are various modes of smoothing the way to confession, and the great -lawyer was trying one of them.</p> - -<p class="normal">"All you say is very true," answered Chandos Winslow, "and had I any -acknowledgment to make, I assure you I would do it at once; but I give you my -word of honour as a gentleman, I declare by everything I hold most sacred, that -I had as much to do with this crime as you have."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I must believe you," replied the barrister; "I am sure you would not -deceive me in such a case, and with such asseverations. But we must look at the -case as it stands;" and he took some written papers and a note-book out of his -pocket. "I have read the evidence as far as it goes," he continued, "as I came -down; and I am bound to inform you, Chandos, that the case looks very serious. I -find, first, that there was some dispute between you and your father's late -steward, proved by a letter found upon his person. This may be a trifle; but -stress may be laid upon it, and it may be magnified by other circumstances into -a fact of great importance. Secondly: it appears that he came over to seek you -at Northferry House, and went out into the gardens in search of you. Thirdly: I -perceive that it is established beyond all doubt, that you were at, or very near -the spot where the event took place, at the time of its occurrence. A man named -Sandes saw you going in that direction, as did also his nephew. They vary as to -the time, I see: one says, it was not three minutes before five; the other, five -or ten minutes. Something may be made out of that. Fourthly: it appears from the -testimony of these two men, that you had a Dutch hoe in your hand at the time -they met you. Fifthly: that a similar implement was found near the body, the -edge being covered with blood and gray hair. Sixthly: the surgeon pronounces the -wound which produced death to have been inflicted by such an instrument. And -seventhly: that the hoe found belonged to you. Moreover, it is shown, that a few -minutes after five, you returned to your cottage in great agitation, washed your -hands, and threw away the water yourself. Nevertheless, some large marks of -blood are found on the dress which you wore that evening; and it is at the same -time shown, that though you might have quitted the garden without meeting Mr. -Roberts, as you assert, yet you must have passed to and fro from the hedge to -the very spot where the body lay, for there were traces exactly fitting your -shoe both ways, and one of the footprints was marked with blood, as if you had -stepped in the pool which lay round the poor man's head when he was found."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos listened with sad and serious attention till his friend paused, and -then replied: "It is certainly, as you say, a case of heavy suspicion; and, what -is more, my dear F----, I do not know that I can do anything to remove it."</p> - -<p class="normal">The barrister looked very grave. "My dear Chandos," he said, "something must -be done. You must give some account of your proceedings--you must make some -statement--or you are inevitably lost. It is rare in instances such as this, -where circumstantial evidence is all which judge or jury have to guide them, -that so strong and unbroken a train is to be found against an accused person. In -Heaven's name! say something--tell me something."</p> - -<p class="normal">"To you, I will," answered Chandos; "but it is upon one condition alone, -namely, that you give me your word of honour, not to use in my defence any of -the facts I am going to state, without my permission."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is a strange request; and I cannot conceive the motives," replied the -other; "but as you have it in your own power to grant or withhold your -confidence, I must accede, as your friend. Were I merely your counsel, I would -refuse."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well then, on that condition, I will tell you all that occurred on that -night, with the exception of one single fact," said Chandos; "and you will see -that I could break to atoms this chain of circumstantial evidence in a moment, -if I thought fit. But I do not. Some of the facts may be useful, perhaps, as you -will turn them, and some I shall not object to have used in my defence; but -others must remain for ever between your breast and mine. I was in the garden, -then, when Roberts came to seek me. What he wanted, I do not know. I was close -to the spot where he was afterwards found murdered, when he must have been in -the walk leading thither, and not a hundred yards from it. I had laid the hoe, -in a sloping direction, against one of the pillars of a little temple, covering -a fish-pond, and was standing by the pond, talking to Miss Rose Tracy, when--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, stay!" cried the barrister. "Did Miss Tracy know who you really are?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Rose did; not Emily," answered Chandos; "we had met before; and she has -known me all along."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah! then the strange whim is accounted for," said the other with a smile.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not quite," replied Chandos; "but I do not mean to conceal from you that I -love her. However, I was talking with her by the fish-pond, when we suddenly -heard the voices of persons coming quickly towards us; for poor Roberts must -have met another person in the grounds, after inquiring for me at the house. -Rose recognized one of the voices; I both: and, as I had the strongest reasons -for not wishing to be found there by one of the persons who approached--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mr. Tracy?" asked the barrister.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," answered Chandos, in a decided tone; "quite another person. But as I -did not choose him to find me there, while Miss Tracy made her escape up one of -the paths, I ran straight to the hedge, leapt it, and stood in the ditch of the -haw-haw for some time, concealed by the hedge. While there, Roberts and the -other person approached. They were evidently in high dispute--indeed, they never -agreed; but now, it would seem, Roberts lost all respect; and when they were -just opposite the fish-pond and the little temple, the other person struck him a -blow with his fist. Then, perceiving the hoe, he snatched it up, and hit him -with it, twice, upon the head. I got over the hedge directly, resolved to -interfere, though I knew I should be recognized at once; but before I could make -my way over, poor Roberts lay dead upon the ground, and the other person, -hearing, and perhaps seeing some one coming, had fled."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your brother!" said the barrister, in a tone of full conviction.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not even to you, my dear friend, will I say who that person was," replied -Chandos. "Suffice it that I raised poor Roberts from the ground, covered my -hands and coat with blood, and perhaps my feet also. I soon found that life was -quite extinct; and, in horror and anguish, which I will not trouble you with -describing, I laid the body down again, and returned to my cottage, in the hope -of escaping all question as to the perpetrator of the crime. At first, I never -thought that suspicion might attach to myself; but when I began to look at the -matter more closely, I saw the danger in which I stood. I then considered my -course; and I made up my mind never, under any circumstances, to shield myself -by accusing the person really criminal. You must, therefore, according to your -promise, let me know precisely what line of defence you are inclined to adopt; -for I will not consent to anything being done by me or for me to point suspicion -against another."</p> - -<p class="normal">The barrister fell into deep thought, and for many minutes he uttered not a -word. He was arranging all the facts and circumstances with that wonderful -precision which, when he pleased, rendered the most dark and intricate subject -as clear as noon-light. "Your position, my dear Winslow," he said at length, "is -indeed a very painful and very difficult one; but I must exhort you, as a man of -honour, and a respecter of the laws of your country, not to let any personal -feelings impede the course of justice."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos waved his hand. "There is no law," he said, "which could require me -to denounce the guilty in this instance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh yes, there is!" replied his friend: "no tie should throw a shield over a -murderer. But I can understand your feelings, and respect them. However, your -own life must not be risked; and it is now for me to consider how, if I hold my -promise to you, I can frame a reasonable and legitimate defence. If you simply -plead 'Not guilty,' and give no account of yourself which may break through the -chain of evidence against you, there is not a panel in all England that will not -condemn you. If you state openly what you saw and heard, there may still be -great doubts and difficulties to contend with: the probability of your having -killed your father's steward will seem greater to a jury as the case stands at -present, than that your brother did so."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good God! why?" demanded Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because, in your case," answered the barrister, "a letter was found upon the -dead man, showing that some irritation of feeling had taken place between you; -and in his case there does not appear at present any reasonable motive for the -act. As far as I see things at present, then, I believe that the best course -will be to follow the line you would yourself desire--to leave the matter vague; -to let suspicion float generally of the crime having been committed by another -without giving it a particular direction."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But how can that be done?" asked Chandos, in amazement.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very easily," replied the barrister, "if your fair Rose be willing to give -her evidence, and have sense enough to give it in a particular manner. If she -will but swear that while talking with you near the fountain or fish-pond, she -heard the voices of two persons approaching, and that those voices seemed to be -speaking in angry tones, it will create a doubt in the minds of the jury of -which you will have the benefit. She must stop there, however, and not enter -into particulars. Nor must you, in whatever defence we frame for you--which will -require much consideration; for the blood on your clothes and hands must be -accounted for as well as many other circumstances--nor must we, I say, unless -with some corroborative proof, let you cast the charge upon your brother; for it -unfortunately happens that you have long been upon bad terms with him; that your -father's will has added other causes of family dissension between you; and that -you are next heir to his property. Under these circumstances, if you were to -accuse him when you are yourself accused, without being able to bring very -strong corroboration, and to show some reasonable cause, you would only create a -prejudice against yourself, which would inevitably destroy you. I will think -over it all; but as far as I see at present, we may very well say, that of the -two voices which you heard as well as Miss Tracy, you recognized one as that of -Mr. Roberts; that not wishing to be recognized before a third person, you had -sprung over the hedge, which perhaps Miss Tracy can confirm; and that from the -other side of the hedge you saw a blow given on the head to the unfortunate -victim, by a man who fled immediately. Luckily, not being subject yourself to -cross-examination, there will be no opportunity of asking you, if you knew the -person of the assassin. The want of explanation on this point will certainly be -an omission which the counsel for the prosecution will remark upon; and -therefore we must make the whole statement as brief and laconic as possible, -leaving out even some other facts of moment, in order that this may not stand -alone. But we must notice particularly your having returned and raised the dead -body. The difficulty will be to account for your not giving immediate -information; and that will be very hard to get over. I think I can manage it, -perhaps, by some bold figure or daring appeal to the credulity of the jury. All, -however, will depend upon Miss Tracy; and however irregular the proceeding may -be, her I must see and converse with. I go to town to-night; to-morrow and the -next day I am engaged; but I will see her on Saturday; for I suppose the trial -will come on before the end of the next week. The calendar at--is light; so that -we shall have the judges here very soon."</p> - -<p class="normal">He ceased speaking. Chandos did not reply, and both sat in silence for -several minutes.</p> - -<p class="normal">The lawyer saw that there was a great and terrible probability that the -course he proposed to pursue--the only one open to him--would not be successful. A -sort of intuitive feeling that it was a desperate game, came upon him. There was -a want of confidence in the arrangement; a want of trust in his own powers to -carry it out successfully, which oppressed him. The truth was, it was what may -be termed a mixed case. He was certain of the innocence of his client, yet he -was obliged to pursue as tortuous a course as if his client had been guilty. The -combination perplexed him. Could he have met the charge with a bold and open -defence, with no concealment, with no reserve, he would have found no -difficulty. Had he only had to make the best of a bad case by legal skill, he -might have disliked the task, without any apprehensions of the result. But now -to defend a just cause insincerely; to prove the innocence of his friend, -without showing the guilt of that friend's brother; to keep back portions of the -truth, when the whole truth, if it could be proved, was Chandos Winslow's best -defence, puzzled and cowed him.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos was filled with very different feelings; and I much doubt whether I -shall be able to convey to the reader any adequate idea of his sensations at -that moment. A sort of despair had come over him--a self-abandonment--a loss of -the bright hopes and strong aspirations which had lately supported him--a -paralysation of some of the great energies of his nature; while others--the -powers of passive endurance--seemed strengthened and acuminated. He was -disinclined to struggle further with fate. Fortune had proved so adverse, -whichever way he turned, that he hoped not for her favour; and he was unwilling -for a bare chance to expose her he loved to all the pain and grief of a public -examination in a court of justice; to the badgering of rude second-class -lawyers; and, perhaps, to insinuations which he would rather have died himself -than have brought upon her head.</p> - -<p class="normal">After a long silence, then, he tried to explain his feelings to his -companion; said he would rather not subject Rose to such agitation and distress; -that he was ready to rest upon his own innocence, and to endure the worst, if -that did not avail him.</p> - -<p class="normal">But the barrister shook his head. "Not so, Chandos," he said, rising and -taking his hat. "I will see Miss Tracy. I will ascertain her own views. -Afterwards, I will frame your defence as best I can, upon the grounds laid down. -But mark me, my good friend, I have a duty to God and my own conscience to -perform; and if I should fail of convincing the jury of your innocence, I will -tell the whole to the advisers of her majesty."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you have promised--you have pledged your honour!" cried Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">The barrister wrung his hand hard. "Remind me of that afterwards," he said, -"and I will prove my confidence in your innocence by fighting you." Without -waiting for a word of reply, he retired.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXIV.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">The lock of the door grated again, within half-an-hour of the time when his -friendly lawyer left Chandos Winslow. It had a harsh sound to his ear, that -heavy lock, whether it opened to admit or give exit to a visitor. It must always -be so with a prisoner; for though he may long to see a friendly face, though his -heart may yearn for the dear embrace and the look of love, yet there are always -sad drawbacks in the anguish, and regret, and fear of those who come, which all -seem to speak out in that rough grating sound.</p> - -<p class="normal">"General Tracy is here, Mr. Winslow," said the turnkey, putting in his head, -"with a magistrate's order to see you, if you like him to come in."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By all means," answered the captive; "I shall be happy to see him;" and in a -minute after the old officer was in the cell.</p> - -<p class="normal">He advanced straight towards Chandos as an old friend, and shook him warmly -by the hand; "Well, Mr. Gardener," he said, with a forced laugh, for his heart -was sad, though he sought to be cheerful, "see what are the consequences of a -whim; but I trust they are not likely to be long as well as heavy--though -disagreeable they must be."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No one can tell the result, my dear Sir," answered Chandos. "I feel deeply -grateful for your kindness in coming over to see me; but I can assure you I have -the cord and the gibbet before my eyes as the very probable termination of what -you call a whim, but which I cannot help thinking may deserve a better name."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The cord and the gibbet!" exclaimed General Tracy; "nonsense! I for one feel -certain of your innocence; and I trust that the time of judicial murders is -past."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Judicial, but not juri-dical, if I may make a sorry jest in sorry -circumstances," answered Chandos. "Do you think, General, that there are no -innocent men hanged in England even in the present day?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"God forbid that I should be such a fool," replied General Tracy. "Juries -have now-a-days a great leaning to the side of mercy: they hang very few men -comparatively, but it is always the wrong men. So far I agree with you--your -innocence is decidedly against you; but still let us hope that if the case is -very glaring the judge will recommend you to mercy. But, as you say, these are -sad, bitter jests, my young friend. All that I see before me, around me, is -painful, and I must be serious. Our method of treating prisoners before trial is -a disgrace to a civilized age and a civilized nation. We have, in the first -place, no regular law to rule the whole system. We have a regular principle -which the law recognises, but which it breaks from the very beginning. 'Every -man is to be considered innocent till he is found guilty,' says the law; but, -whatever he is considered, he is treated as guilty of something, till he is -found innocent of the charge on which he is committed. Every bench of -magistrates varies its doctrine as it thinks best; but they all agree in taking -measures for a prisoner's safe custody which the object does not require or -justify, and in punishing him for being accused, before it is ascertained -whether he is criminal or not. The very deprivation of liberty is an injustice -towards an innocent man, for which the country that requires it should make -compensation the moment he is acquitted; and every aggravation of that great -hardship, inflicted by one or more magistrates, ought to be punishable as a -misdemeanour. Here I had the greatest possible difficulty in getting an order to -see you, and till that order was obtained the prison doors were shut against me. -What an aggravation is this of the loss of liberty! Not only are you debarred -the free use of your limbs, of your ability, of your will; but you are deprived -of the comfort of sympathy, of the words of friendship, and affection, of the -very sight of loved faces and familiar tones. Better far, as has been practised -in several nations, to shut you up in a cage and let all your friends, if they -would, come and speak to you through the bars."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear," answered Chandos, "that the state of society requires a great many -safeguards, which inflict innumerable individual hardships. To prevent a -prisoner's escape, to prevent his suborning testimony, and arranging a -factitious tale with those without, may justify many precautions."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Does society take as much pains to prevent the subornation of evidence -against him?" asked General Tracy; "does it take pains to prevent or punish the -light and wanton, or the ignorant and stupid committal of an honest man to the -same infliction of imprisonment and privation which is assigned by the law to a -convicted rogue. No, no, Chandos Winslow, it does not. Society is full of evil -conventionalities, and the cases of individual hardship are so numerous, that I -much doubt whether the benefits of society in its present state compensate for -the evils. Nor is this all, my good friend: its operations are all -iniquitous--iniquitous in their benefits as well as in their wrongs. One man is -as unjustly exalted as another is abased, with a few splendid exceptions, just -sufficient to prove the general rule. Society is, in fact, the concentration of -the whole world's selfishness. But one sort, even of conventional virtue, is -successful at any time, and it is extolled beyond all praise, rewarded beyond -all discrimination; but one class of vices is punished, and it is persecuted -rather than chastised. The very charge of one of the proscribed sins is -sufficient to entail upon a man a punishment fit for a heinous offence, and in -every other sort of wickedness, a sinner within convention may revel at his -will."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, you are too severe, General," replied Chandos; "I suffer; but yet I do -not think that society inflicts more hardships upon individuals than is perhaps -inevitable."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You say so because you have been accustomed to look at these things under -one aspect alone," answered General Tracy. "Now, think how many committals take -place in the course of the year in proportion to the convictions. Those can -easily be ascertained; for the reports are published. Then, again, consider how -many of the innocent are condemned, and you will find that an amount of -punishment has been inflicted upon people who do not deserve it, which is more -than should be necessary to chastise proved crime in any well organized state of -society for a population of double the extent of that of Great Britain."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you assume," rejoined Chandos, "that all who are not convicted are -innocent, which perhaps may not be exactly the case."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I assume what the rule of society justifies, and no more," replied General -Tracy. "Every man must be considered innocent till he is proved guilty."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Besides," said the prisoner, "I hope that few of the innocent are really -condemned, even if many of the guilty do not escape."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Multitudes are condemned every day," replied his visitor. "I saw a woman -condemned some time ago, a woman in a high rank of life, for stealing in a shop. -She had taken up something off a counter, and carried it away with her. It was -in vain that her habits, her station, her previous character, her fortune, the -very money in her purse at the moment, were brought forward to prove the -improbability of her filching a toy worth half a crown; the jury condemned her -as a lady thief, and probably would have been hooted had they not done so. And -yet the very same accident which sent her into a court of justice, occurred to -me not ten days ago in London. I went into an inn where I am well known, with my -mind full of anxious thoughts, and sent up to see if a gentleman I wished to -speak with was at home, while I remained in the coffee-room. I had an umbrella -under my arm. There was another lying on the table near which I stood. I found -that the person I asked for was out; and, without thought, I took up the second -umbrella, and walked away with it. The waiter did not remark what I was doing, -and I had got to the end of two streets, when, to my horror and consternation, I -found that I had one umbrella in my hand and another under my arm. It is a fact, -I can assure you. I carried the umbrella back instantly, and found the whole -house being hunted for it. 'Remember, my good friend,' I said to the waiter, 'if -ever you are on a jury where no sufficient motive can be assigned for an -offence, that it is well to doubt before you condemn.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">"And what did he reply?" asked Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"'Very well, Sir.--Number six ringing his bell!'" said the old officer; "and -if the next day he had been on a jury with a lady-thief case, he would have -found the prisoner 'guilty,' and forgotten the umbrella."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am afraid, then," said Chandos, thoughtfully, "there is very little chance -of my being acquitted."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That does not exactly follow," replied General Tracy. "But you bring me back -to the subject from which I have wandered wide. I trust there is no chance of -your being found guilty; for I feel perfectly convinced of your innocence -myself. You could have no motive for killing your brother's steward."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who was always attached to me from my youth," added Chandos; "and for whom I -ever felt a sincere regard and affection. I wrote him a letter, indeed, in -somewhat cold and formal terms, in regard to his having opened the drawers in -some rooms, the whole contents of which were left by my father to myself without -any reservation; but I did so because I thought that he had made the examination -of which I complained by the orders of another. I also wished to render the -letter such as he could show, in case of need, as a demand on my part, that -whatever documents were found in those rooms should be safely preserved for me. -This is the only matter in which human ingenuity can find the shadow of motive -for such an act as I am charged with."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That will not prove basis sufficient for their accusation," said General -Tracy; "and doubtless, my young friend, if you are well defended, the whole case -against you will fall to the ground. But let me ask you, if you have taken any -means to ensure that good counsel shall be retained on your behalf."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The best in the land," answered Chandos Winslow: "Sir ****, left me a short -time before you were kind enough to come to see me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That was, of course, at your brother's request," said the old officer.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not in the least," replied the prisoner, sternly; "My brother and myself, -General Tracy, have unfortunately not been friends for some years, and are less -likely to be so now than ever. Sir ****, on the contrary, is an old and dear -friend of mine; and the moment he heard of my situation from the worthy -solicitor in this town, who wrote to him at my request, he came down to see me -himself. My cause could not be in better hands."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Assuredly," answered General Tracy. "But am I then to understand that your -brother has taken no measures for your defence? that he has not been to see -you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That he has taken no steps I cannot say, for I do not know," was Chandos -Winslow's reply; "but I should think it most improbable. To see me he has -assuredly not been. Nor would I have admitted him willingly, if he had come."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is very extraordinary," said General Tracy; "he received a letter -suddenly, in the vestry of Northferry church, which we all understood came from -you, and he set out immediately for S----, in order to see you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The letter doubtless did come from me," replied Chandos; "for I sent one to -him privately, by the intervention of my solicitor. But if he ever intended to -visit me here, he changed his mind by the way; for certainly he did not come."</p> - -<p class="normal">General Tracy mused for a moment. Rose was evidently right in her suspicions. -The letter of Sir William Winslow was not natural. He felt no affection for the -brother by whose situation he pretended to be moved so much. Even the honour of -his house could not be at the bottom of all the agitation he displayed, if he -had taken no measures for his brother's defence. Did General Tracy's suspicions -extend further? Perhaps they did; but if so he suffered them not to appear, but -proceeded to touch delicately upon some of the principal links in the chain of -evidence against his young companion, leaving him to give any explanation if he -thought fit.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos listened for some time in silence; but at length he cut short the -observations of the old officer by saying, in a firm and placid tone, "My dear -Sir, it is as well to tell you at once, that there are particular circumstances -which will prevent me from explaining, even at the trial, many of the facts to -which you allude; and if inferences to my disadvantage are drawn from my -silence, I cannot help it. The motives which actuate me in the line of conduct I -have resolved to pursue are in no degree personal. In fact, I could clear -myself--at least I think so--of all suspicion in five minutes; but I cannot or -rather will not, employ the necessary means to prove my complete innocence. -Doubtless my counsel will adopt a good line of defence, and I must leave the -rest to the will of God."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Many persons," replied General Tracy, "would look upon you as guilty, -because you do not choose to explain everything. I am not one of them, however, -my young friend. It is a trick of women and the world to suppose evil in all -that is not made clear; but I can easily conceive that there may be things -hidden by a man, which imply no guilt in him; and, to say the truth, if I had -doubted your innocence of this act, I should have been convinced of it by your -unwillingness to account for many of the circumstances which give weight to the -charge against you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Many thanks, my dear General, for your good opinion," said Chandos, "though -I do not see exactly how you deduce your effect from your cause."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By one very simple process," answered the General: "though it is a vulgar -error to suppose that terror always follows guilt, yet every guilty man when -placed in a situation of danger strives eagerly--generally too eagerly--to escape -punishment, and devises some means of explaining away facts which tell against -him. Now the absence of all effort on your part in that direction would be -sufficient for me were there nothing more. But I will tell you, Chandos Winslow, -that there is something more. Your resolution to withhold explanation excites -suspicions, not in regard to yourself, but in regard to others, which I will not -now attempt to define; and undoubtedly as soon as I return to Northferry, I will -cause inquiries to be made for the purpose of confirming or removing those -suspicions. And now tell me, is there anything I can do for your comfort? What -means can be devised of solacing the weary hours of imprisonment?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos Winslow thought for a few moments deeply, and then replied, holding -out his hand to General Tracy, "I thank you most deeply for your kindness; but -let me entreat you not to suffer anything I have said to cast a suspicion upon -others. I have no one to accuse. I meant not in the least to imply that I am -aware of any facts connected with this sad event. I have my own reasons for the -course I follow; but to explain them would be to debar myself from that course. -What you are pleased to do in the matter, I cannot help; but pray let no -inquiries be founded upon or directed by anything I have said."</p> - -<p class="normal">The old officer bowed his head gravely, but merely replied, "What can we do -to give you amusement during your confinement?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, books, General," answered the prisoner; "that is the only solace allowed -me here. If you could send me some of those at my cottage, you would indeed -confer a great favour; for time flies heavily when my own dull thoughts bear -down his wings; but I have often found that the current of imagination, when -directed by authors that we love, has a buoyancy which bears our dull thoughts -away upon the stream, till we lose sight of them in distance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You shall have your whole library before to-morrow night," replied General -Tracy; "and now farewell. I will see you again; but if in the meantime I can -serve you in any way, write to me at once." Thus saying, he left him; and -immediately on his arrival at Northferry-house, he inquired strictly of all the -servants if they had seen any one go out into the garden or return from it on -the night of the murder, and at the hour when it was supposed to have taken -place. Only one person, the second footman, recollected any circumstance of the -kind, and he could give no definite information. He said, however, that just -after sunset, as he was shutting the dining-room windows, he saw somebody pass -into the house through the conservatory. He thought it was like the figure of -Sir William Winslow, but he could not affirm that it was so; and with this -confirmation, weak as it was, General Tracy was forced to be satisfied for the -time.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXV.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">Rose Tracy sat in her own room, with her head resting on her hand. The tears -were streaming from her eyes; and yet the expression of her countenance was not -altogether that of grief. It seemed more as if her heart and feelings had been -touched for another, than as if she were affected by personal sorrow. Such -indeed was the case. The letter before her was from Horace Fleming. It was the -first she had ever received from him; and it was couched in language which was -guarded by delicate feeling towards her sister, while it plainly suffered to -appear the deep anguish of spirit which he himself endured.</p> - -<p class="normal">After wiping the tears from her eyes, she re-read several detached passages -from the letter, which we may as well place before the reader:--</p> - -<p class="normal">"You will think it strange, my dear Miss Tracy," was the commencement, "that -I should venture to write to you; but you have not only taken a kind interest in -me, and in feelings which I know you saw without pain; but you also interested -yourself much in the poor of my parish, and in the schools which I had -established. However, I will not make an excuse which is not sincere for writing -to you, for I have no one to whom I can pour out the feelings of my heart but -yourself; and I should have written had my poor and my schools been out of the -question. Your sister, of course, I cannot venture to address, though I should -wish her to know that morning and night I offer earnest prayers for her -happiness, and beseech Him from whom alone all good things come to avert those -evils from her which I, perhaps weakly, apprehend. I would not have her made -aware of the sorrow and disappointment I myself endure; for, if hers is a cup of -joy, the grief of a friend would but turn the sweet drops to bitterness; and if -it be already bitter, I would not for anything that earth can give add to the -sorrow of one so well deserving happiness."</p> - -<p class="normal">After some further expressions of the same kind, he went on to say, "Do not -suppose, however, my dear Miss Tracy, that I give myself up to grief; I trust -that my religious feelings are too strong for that. I struggle hard to cast all -sorrowful thoughts from my mind. I occupy myself all day in the duties of the -small living I hold in this part of the diocese, and I leave nothing undone--not -to drive your sister from my mind, but--to reconcile myself to the knowledge that -she is lost to me for ever, and to bow my heart humbly before the will of God. -Nevertheless, I think it will be wise for me, in all respects, not to return to -Northferry for some months; for I must avoid everything that can reawaken regret -and make me discontented with the lot which it has pleased God to assign to me. -Under these circumstances, I will request you, in your kindness, to do one or -two things for me in the parish; for my curate, though an excellent man, has not -much experience, and moreover cannot be so well acquainted with the wants and -character of the people of the place as yourself."</p> - -<p class="normal">I will not pause upon all the details he gave, nor mention whom he -recommended to Rose's bounty, nor to whom he called Mr. Tracy's attention; but -will proceed at once to another part of the letter, which was the only portion -thereof in which Rose could be said to have a personal interest.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have seen in the daily papers," continued Mr. Fleming, "some most -extraordinary statements regarding a horrible event which has taken place at -Northferry, in your own grounds. I allude, of course, to the murder of Mr. -Roberts; and I am shocked to find that an innocent man has not only been charged -with the crime, but has actually been committed for trial on the coroner's -warrant. From your father's account of his head-gardener, who under the name of -Acton excited so much wonder by his erudition, I was speedily led to believe -that he was superior to the station he assumed. To hear therefore that he was in -reality no other than Mr. Chandos Winslow, did not excite in me the same -surprise which it did, I dare say, in others. I never spoke with him but once; -and then he affected a certain roughness of manner, mingled strangely enough -with quotations from Roman poets; but I saw him several times at a distance in -your grounds, and felt sure from his walk and carriage that he was no ordinary -man. I was informed accidentally of his relationship to Sir William Winslow the -night before I left Northferry; but little expected to hear such a charge -against him. Doubtless he will be able to prove his innocence; but still such -things ought not to be left to chance, and I shall therefore tender my evidence, -which, if the statements in the newspapers be correct, must have some weight."</p> - -<p class="normal">The letter was dated from Sandbourne Vicarage, a place about forty miles -distant, on the other side of the county; and Rose had just finished looking -over it again, when her maid entered her room to tell her that a gentleman from -London was below in the library, and wished to speak with her immediately. At -the same time the girl handed her a card, on which was printed a name of which -she had no knowledge, except from having seen it mentioned frequently in the -public journals, as that of the most eminent barrister of the day.</p> - -<p class="normal">Putting the letter she had previously received into her bag, she went down -with some degree of trepidation to the library, to meet a complete, stranger, at -a moment when her mind was by no means disposed to society of any kind; but her -visitor soon put her at her ease, by the winning gentleness of his manner.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have to apologize Miss Tracy," he said, "for intruding thus upon a lady -without any proper introduction; but my anxiety for the safety of a very dear -friend must plead my excuse. Chandos Winslow, whom I think you know, and whom -you must at all events be acquainted with under the strange guise of a gardener, -is an old and intimate acquaintance of mine; and I have undertaken, against my -ordinary rule, to conduct his defence, in the painful and dangerous -circumstances in which he is now placed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I am so glad to see you," said Rose; "but your words frighten me. I had -hoped that it would be perfectly easy to establish his innocence, of which I am -sure you can have no more doubt than I have."</p> - -<p class="normal">"None," answered the barrister; "but I must not deceive you, my dear young -lady. His case is one of very great danger; for there never was a stronger chain -of circumstantial evidence against any man than against him. But let us sit down -and talk the matter over calmly;--nay, do not weep;--for on the evidence that you -can give, may very likely depend the result of the trial."</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose nevertheless wept only the more from that announcement; for to think -that the life of the man she loved might depend upon the manner in which she -told a tale, simple enough, but susceptible of being turned in various ways by -the skill of any unscrupulous counsel, did not at all tend to decrease her -agitation.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is very foolish of me," she said, at length, drying her eyes; "but I -shall be better in a moment. Pray go on: what is it you wished to say?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am altogether stepping out of the ordinary professional course, Miss -Tracy," replied the barrister; "but I have thought it better to see you myself -rather than trust the task to another, in order to ascertain the nature of the -evidence you can give; first, for the purpose of judging whether it will be -expedient to call you at all on the part of my friend Winslow; and secondly, -that I may so direct the questions to be put to you in your examination in chief -as to prevent the cross-examining counsel from torturing you, or damaging the -case of my client. Winslow tells me that he was speaking with you the moment -before he quitted the garden. Now mind, in anything I say, my dear young lady, I -wish to suggest nothing; for, in the first place, I am sure you are incapable of -falsehood; and in the next, nothing can serve our friend but the simple truth."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But that is quite true," said Rose, "he was speaking with me near a little -basin of gold and silver fish, close by the spot where the body was afterwards -found. He then ran across the path and the greensward beyond, and jumped over -the hedge just above the haw-haw. I can show you the precise spot."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By and by that may be useful," said the other; "but at present tell me, if -you have no objection, what made you part so suddenly?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose coloured a little: but she replied frankly, "We heard the voices of two -people coming down the arbutus walk, as we call it--a path bounded by evergreens, -which leads, with several turns, into the broad walk past the fish-pond."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Were the persons speaking at any great distance?" inquired the barrister.</p> - -<p class="normal">"In a direct line, I should think forty or fifty yards," she answered; "but -by the arbutus walk more than a hundred, I dare say."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then were they speaking loud that you heard them so far?" asked her -companion; "or only conversing quietly?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, they were speaking very loud and angrily," replied the young lady, "Sir -William Winslow especially."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then Sir William Winslow was one of the speakers," said the barrister.</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose coloured a good deal, and was evidently agitated, but she answered, "He -was, beyond all doubt. His voice is very peculiar. It was raised high; and I can -have no doubt of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">The lawyer played slowly with the eye-glass at his buttonhole, and looked her -full in the face; for he saw that there were suspicions in her mind; but he -answered deliberately and with some emphasis: "We will avoid that point, Miss -Tracy, in the examination in chief, and, if possible, so frame our questions as -to give the opposite counsel no opportunity of inquiring who was the speaker; -but, nevertheless, you may be pressed upon the subject, and then of course the -truth must be told, whatever be the result. Where is Sir William now?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has gone to the Continent, I believe," said Rose, with some -embarrassment.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And probably has taken with him the servants who were here during his stay," -said the lawyer, drily: "nevertheless, we may get at some facts regarding him, -perhaps, from your own domestics. But you will swear he was in the garden at -that hour, should it be needed?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Without hesitation," answered Rose.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And that he was conversing in loud and angry tones with some other person?" -continued the barrister.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Undoubtedly," she replied.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did you know the other person's voice?" asked her interrogator.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No; it was quite strange to me," answered the lady. "It was not the voice of -any of our own people, I am sure; but I remarked that he had a slight hesitation -in his speech; for when he said 'No, Sir William; I tell you I will not,' he -stammered at the word 'tell.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">"You heard him say that?" inquired the lawyer.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did, distinctly," she answered; "but that was after Mr. Winslow was gone."</p> - -<p class="normal">A long pause succeeded, during which the barrister seemed totally to forget -Miss Tracy's presence, and leaned his head upon his hand, looking forth from the -window with an air of anxious thoughtfulness. At length he said, as if reasoning -with himself, "Perhaps it might do--yet it would be a hazardous game--but what is -not? I must remember my promise, however, and that will turn the balance." Then -again he paused and thought; but at length turning to Rose, who began to feel -her position somewhat embarrassing, he said, "I thank you very much, Miss Tracy, -for your frankness, and will make use of your evidence to a certain extent. It -may not be necessary to enter into all the particulars, and the best way under -examination and cross-examination is to answer perfectly sincerely and frankly -the exact question that is asked, without going at all beyond it. I say this -because it must be a painful thing at any time for a young lady like yourself to -be put into a witness-box. It is true, a better feeling exists at the bar at -present than was to be found some thirty or forty years ago. We do not now think -it necessary to brow-beat a witness, nor clever to puzzle one, unless we find -that there is a determination to conceal the truth or to pervert it. However, I -shall tell the solicitor in the case to apply to your father, who I find is out, -for a list of all the servants in the family, who could, perhaps, be serviceable -as witnesses on behalf of our poor friend; and if you know of any other evidence -which could be brought forward in his favour, either to show the probability of -the unfortunate gentleman, Mr. Roberts, having been engaged in a personal -dispute with any other person, or to prove that Chandos could not be guilty of -the act, you would--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, I have received a letter this very morning," cried Rose, "from a -gentleman who seems to think that his testimony would be important. I will read -you what he says;" and, taking out Mr. Fleming's epistle, she read all that -referred to the case of Chandos Winslow.</p> - -<p class="normal">"From whom might that come?" asked the barrister.</p> - -<p class="normal">"From the clergyman of our parish," answered Rose, "the Honourable Mr. -Fleming. He is not at all likely to speak without good cause."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Might I hear it again?" said the other.</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose read it once more; and the lawyer, rising, took up his hat, saying, "I -will go to him at once. There are some remarkable expressions there. He must -have important evidence to give."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think so too," answered Rose Tracy; "for he never lays stress upon -trifles. But yet I cannot see how he can know much, for he was not here that -evening, and went away for Sandbourne early the next morning, I hear."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We cannot tell what information he may possess," said her companion. "This -gentleman is evidently a man of observation and ability. His character and holy -calling will give weight to his testimony; and I will ascertain this very night -what he knows of the circumstances."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Unfortunately, he is absent," replied Rose; "Sandbourne, where he now is, -lies fifteen or sixteen miles on the other side of S----."</p> - -<p class="normal">The lawyer took out his watch. "That shall not stop me," he said. "It is now -twelve: I can be there before dark, hold a consultation at S---- after dinner, and -get to London by six to-morrow. Thanks to the marvellous combinations of -railroads and post-horses, one sets distance at defiance. But I must have the -address, Miss Tracy, if you will have the kindness to put it down for me."</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose did as he required, and with a certain sort of antique gallantry--though -for his standing in the profession he was a young man--the great lawyer, in -taking his leave, raised his fair companion's hand to his lips, saying, "If I -win this cause, Miss Tracy, my pleasure will be threefold: first, as I shall -save my friend; secondly, as I shall triumph over some difficulties; and -thirdly, as I shall gain a victory in which I think you have some interest."</p> - -<p class="normal">In four hours he was at the door of Sandbourne Vicarage, for he had the -secret of saving time by casting away sixpences, and the post-boys did their -best. There was some difficulty as to his admission, for the servant informed -him that Mr. Fleming did not like to see any one on Saturday night after four in -the evening, unless the business was very important.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mine is business of life and death," answered the lawyer, with a faint and -fatigued smile. "Give your master that card, and assure him I will not detain -him long."</p> - -<p class="normal">The servant went, returned, and admitted him. He remained nearly -half-an-hour, and when he went forth he shook Mr. Fleming's hand, saying, "I -would mention it to no one, my dear Sir; for we barristers are sometimes apt to -puzzle counsel when we find testimony goes against us. The only place to state -the fact is in the open court."</p> - -<p class="normal">Then bidding him adieu, he got into his carriage again, waved his hand, and -the horses dashed away towards S----.</p> - -<p class="normal">As soon as he was out of sight of the vicarage, he cast himself back on the -cushions, saying aloud, "Well, this is most extraordinary. There must be some -great falsehood amongst people who all seem the one more sincere than the other. -God grant neither judge nor jury may find it out; but at all events we must keep -to our story. Which shall it be?--" and, laying his finger on a temple that ached -more often than the world knew of, he gave himself up to contemplation, the -result of which the reader will see hereafter.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXVI.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">We once wandered, dearly beloved reader, you and I together, over some steep -bare hills which lie between Winslow Park and Northferry, watching Chandos in -his gardener's guise, as he travelled towards the house of Mr. Tracy. Those -hills, not at all unlike the Mendips in some of their features, were somewhat -different in others. The high road took the most sterile and desolate part of -them, where the curlew loved to dwell in solitude, and the wild plover laid her -spotted eggs. But here and there, in their long range--which might extend some -five-and-thirty miles from the spot where they began to tower above the plain in -one county to that where they bend the head again in another--were some dells and -valleys, in which the woods nestled and the streams glided on. The river which -Chandos had swam at Winslow, and which, passing on, increasing in size, gave to -the village or small town near Mr. Tracy's property the name it bore, by reason -of what is called a horse-ferry established there from time immemorial, had at -some period of the world's history undertaken the troublesome task of forcing a -way for itself through the opposing barrier of hill, and had somehow succeeded. -It is wonderful what feats rivers and people will perform when they are driven -into a corner, and have no way out of it but by a great effort. Then, when they -have accomplished their task, how they rejoice in the triumphant exertions of -their vigour, and play in scorn with the obstacles they have surmounted.</p> - -<p class="normal">In a deep valley amongst those hills, seldom if ever trodden by human -foot--for there was wanting footing for man or beast in many parts of the -gorge--is one scene of exceeding beauty, well worthy of being more frequently -visited than it has been. I know not whether in the spring, when the young -leaves coming out decorate the sides of the dell with every hue of yellow and -green, or in the autumn, when the mellow brown and red of the decaying year -spreads a melancholy splendour over the woods, the picture is more beautiful; -but to see it in its best aspect must always be when the tears, either of the -year's wayward youth or of its sorrowful age, have been pouring down for some -days before. The reason is this,--that over a high shelf of rock, the river, -having overcome all the obstructions of the previous way, bounds down towards -the goal to which its eager course tends in the distant plains, then first in -sight, and the boughs of a thousand kinds of trees and shrubs wave round the -rejoicing waterfall as if in triumph. It is not indeed with one boisterous leap -that the river springs from the height, some fifty feet above, to the tumbling -pool beneath; but as if at two great steps it strides upon its way, setting one -white foot in foam upon a rocky point about half-way down, and then again -another in the depth of the valley. A projecting point of crag, upon which a -sapling ash-tree has rooted itself, stands out between the two falls; and round -the point, scattered amongst the roots of the trees, lie numerous large blocks -of stone, riven from the rocks above, in times the remoteness of which is told -by the yellow and white lichens and green moss with which they are covered.</p> - -<p class="normal">About a hundred yards in front of the waterfall, one fine day in the early -spring of the year, when several hours of heavy rain during the preceding night -had gorged the river, and given the cataract the voice of thunder, sat the -gipsey woman, Sally Stanley, with her picturesque costume in its varied and -bright colouring, contrasting beautifully with the cold gray stone, the rushing -water, and the brown tints of the uncovered branches; while, here and there, an -early green leaf, or the warm reddish brown of the unevolved buds, served to -harmonize in some degree the scene with the glowing hues of her dress, or at all -events to render the contrast not too strong. Nobody else was seen in the -neighbourhood; and yet there were the three cross sticks, with the suspended -pot, the glowing wood fire well piled up, and one small dingy tent between two -large masses of stone. The woman sat beside the pot and sewed, with her left -shoulder turned towards the waterfall, and her eyes apparently looking down the -dell.</p> - -<p class="normal">Opposite to her, spanning the river, was a little rude bridge, made with two -trunks of trees, joining a narrow path on the one side to its continuation on -the other which might be seen winding from shelf to shelf of the rock in its way -to the prolongation of the valley above.</p> - -<p class="normal">Sally Stanley sat and sewed, as we have said, an unusual occupation for a -gipsey; and while she sewed she sang, a much more frequent custom of her people. -But to neither affair did she seem to give much attention, turning her ear -towards the stream and path, as if for some expected voice or footfall.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length a step was heard; but she made no sudden movement, and with her -head bent, listened still, slowly turning her face in the direction of the -descending path, so as to gain a sight of the person who was coming down, before -he crossed the river. The figure which appeared was that of a man in the prime -of life--in the early prime, well dressed after a country fashion, bearing -himself with a free and easy air, and, with his well-turned powerful limbs, and -fine cut features, presenting the aspect of as handsome a man as one would wish -to see.</p> - -<p class="normal">A faint, almost sad smile came over the face of the gipsey woman; but she -took not the slightest notice till the traveller was in the midst of the bridge, -when, dropping the coarse blue stocking she was mending, she advanced towards -him, and addressed him in the usual cant of her tribe, begging him to cross her -hand and have his destiny told, and promising him as pretty a fortune, and as -extensive a matrimonial connexion, as any moderate man could well desire.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lockwood, for he it was who now approached, laughed, and replied, "I have not -time now, my good girl; for I am hungry, thirsty, sad, and sorry, and have a -long way to go before I can get food, drink, or consolation."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not so, Master, not so," answered Sally Stanley; "you only cross my hand -with a pretty little half-crown, and I will give you food, drink, and -consolation, such as you cannot get where you are going, I am sure."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is no bad offer either," answered Lockwood; "and I may as well sit down -by the side of your pot, and have a chat with you, as go and eat bread and -cheese, and drink beer by myself in a frowsy tap-room."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A great deal better," said the woman with a laugh. "Where could you be more -comfortable than here, if you were going to the best house in all the land? Do -you think that man builds better than God?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, no," answered Lockwood; "and in those respects I am a bit of a gipsey -myself. I am as fond of the free air as any of you, and do not much fear foul -weather, even when Ćolus unchains all his blasts. But come, let us see your -promised fare. I dare say it is of the best in the county, as you certainly have -the choice of all that is going. Here is your half-crown for you."</p> - -<p class="normal">He was soon seated close to where the woman had been previously sitting, with -a deep tin dish upon his knee, while she, with a large wooden ladle, dipped into -the pot and brought up a mixed mess, very savory to the nose, and consisting a -various materials, whereof a fine turkey's leg was at all events the most -conspicuous. Bread she had none to give him, but a hard biscuit supplied its -place very well, and to say sooth, Lockwood, whose appetite was sharpened by a -long walk, enjoyed his meal exceedingly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now then," he said, "for your drink and your consolation;" and the woman -brought him forth from her little tent a black bottle, the odour emitted by -which, as soon as the cork was pulled out, announced it as that liquor to which -we justly give the same name that eastern nations bestow upon an evil spirit. -But Lockwood would none of it, and while he finished the contents of the -platter, she brought him a large jug of water from the stream.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well," he said, after taking a long draught, "I must now wend on my way."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are in mighty haste," she answered, "to set out for a place you will not -reach."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How do you know I will not reach it?" he asked, smiling in his strength.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because I know all about you," answered Sally Stanley, "where you are going, -why you are going, what has been in your thoughts all the way from Winslow -hither."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are mighty wise," exclaimed Lockwood. "I know well enough that you -gipsies are famous for fishing out of gentlemen's servants all about their -masters and mistresses, but I did not know you troubled your heads with such -people as myself. As to my thoughts, however, there I defy you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you?" said the woman, laughing aloud. "Now I will show you. You have been -thinking of Chandos Winslow, your half-brother, and of the murder of good old -Roberts, the steward; and you have been fancying that another hand, as near akin -to your own, might have shed the blood that is charged upon Chandos Winslow's; -and you are going down to Northferry to see what you can make out of the case."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A marvellous good guess," replied Lockwood; "but I now recollect you, my -pretty brown lass. You are the mother of the boy down at the cottage; and, like -all your people, you are good at putting two and two together."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am the boy's mother," answered the woman; "but you are wrong in thinking -that is my only way of knowing. I see more things than you fancy, hear more than -people dream of; and I tell you, you will not get to Northferry to-day nor -to-morrow either; nor will you go to the assizes, nor give your evidence in -court: and if you did, you would only mar what you try to mend."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That won't stop me," answered Lockwood sturdily; "truth is truth, and it -shall be told: 'Magna est veritas, et prćvalebit,' my pretty lass. I will tell -my plain, straightforward tale in spite of any one; but I do not know what you -have to do with it, and am rather curious to hear; for, to tell you the truth, I -do not like you the better for wanting to stop me. If there were any gratitude -in human nature, you would be grateful to Chandos Winslow, for he did all in his -power to make your boy a good scholar and a good Christian: though, by the way, -I suppose you care very little about his being either."</p> - -<p class="normal">The woman's eye flashed for an instant, with a very wild and peculiar gleam -in it, which I think I mentioned before, and she answered vehemently, "You are -wrong, Henry Lockwood, you are wrong; I am grateful to him for everything;" and -then she burst into a flood of tears.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lockwood gazed at her with some emotion, and then put his hand kindly upon -her arm, saying, "I did not mean to grieve you, my good woman; but still I do -not understand you rightly: you say that you are grateful to this young -gentleman; and yet you would prevent me from doing what I can to save him when -his life is in danger for another man's act. You seem to know so much, that -perhaps you know more; for your people are always prying about, and it is not -unlikely that some of them saw the deed done. However, from what you said just -now, and from the way in which you divined what I had been thinking about, I am -sure you do not suspect Chandos Winslow, and that your suspicions take the same -direction as my own; though mine are well nigh certainties, and yours can be but -doubts."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Are yours well nigh certainties?" she exclaimed eagerly. "Can you prove it? -Can you satisfy judge and jury? But, no," she added, in a mournful tone, "it -were better not--you cannot prove it--you can have nothing but suspicions either. -You did not see your bad brother's hand strike the blow--you cannot tell what was -the provocation given--you can mention no cause for a man killing his own -steward."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes I can," answered Lockwood. "The blow struck I certainly did not see; for -I was well nigh two miles off at the time."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know that as well as you do," said the woman with a laugh; "I know where -you were, and all about you. But what is it you can prove if you were so far -distant?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can prove that there was a cause," answered Lockwood, "a cause for the act -in one case, and none in the other; for the very night before, poor Roberts -found a note in Sir Harry's own handwriting, declaring that he had left a copy -of his second will, dated not five years ago, in the hands of his eldest son. -Roberts showed me the memorandum himself, the moment after he had found it, and -he was as well aware as I am that Sir William has destroyed the will, because it -did not suit his purposes. Was that not cause enough for giving a knock on the -head to one who possessed such dangerous information? Besides, there is a great -deal more: the very next day he came over to seize on the furniture in those two -rooms, and lock it all up; but I have been beforehand with him. All the papers -that Roberts had found were safe enough, and the furniture was moved to farmer -Richards's great barn and under my lock and key. He sent me down word that he -would prosecute me. I told him to do so if he dared. But now I must go, my good -woman; and I say the truth shall be told, whatever comes of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you think, Lockwood," asked the gipsey woman, "that if Chandos Winslow -himself had seen the murder committed, he would bring such a charge against his -brother?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps not," replied Lockwood; "but that is not the question. Here am I, no -way partial in the business, whose duty it is to an innocent man to tell the -truth, whether he wishes it or not; and therefore I shall go on to Northferry at -once, and see Mr. Tracy, and tell him all I know. If he does not do what is -right, I will go on to the lawyers and tell them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mr. Tracy you cannot and you will not see," said Sally Stanley. "Have you -not heard he was arrested for debt, and taken to London yesterday afternoon; and -the two girls and their uncle are gone up after him this morning?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Arrested?" exclaimed Lockwood; "what! the rich Mr. Tracy arrested? he who -was supposed to be the most wealthy man in all the county?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Aye, there it is, Harry Lockwood," said the woman: "that is the difference -between your people and the gipsies. We are content with food and clothing, the -open sunshine, and the free air; but you are never content. If you are poor you -must be rich; if you are rich, you must be richer. The madness of gain is upon -you all; and this wealthy Mr. Tracy must needs speculate, to make himself more -wealthy, till he has made beggars of himself and his children. All on account of -these railroads, with which they are putting the whole land in fetters; he who, -a month ago, was rolling in riches, has not so much in his pocket as Sally -Stanley, who once begged her bread at a rich man's door, and was driven away -with a cur at her heels. You will not see Mr. Tracy for a long time to come."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then I will go to the lawyers," rejoined Lockwood; "for the story shall be -told."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, it shall not," answered the woman, "that I am resolved. I tell you, you -will spoil all; and if you leave the matter alone, he is quite safe."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will not trust to that," answered Lockwood. "There, take off your -hand!--you are not such a fool as to think you can stop me;" and at the same -moment he shook off the grasp which she had laid upon his arm, somewhat rudely -and impatiently, perhaps.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next instant his collar was seized by a stout man, who sprang from behind -the masses of broken stone, while another leaped out and caught his right arm, -and a third seized him round the legs and tried to throw him down. His great -strength, however, sufficed to frustrate their efforts for a moment or two. He -disengaged his arm, aimed a blow at the man who grasped his collar, which was -parried with difficulty, and kicked off the other gipsey who was grasping his -legs; but three or four more came running down from amongst the woods, and after -a sturdy resistance he was overpowered and his hands tied.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What the devil do you mean by ill-treating one of our women?" demanded a -tall, powerful fellow, of about fifty years of age. But Lockwood only replied by -a loud laugh; and the gipsey grinned at the open falsehood of his own pretext.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What shall we do with him, Sally?" said the latter, turning to the woman; -"he must be looked sharp after if we are to keep him, for he is a rough -customer, I can tell you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah, you have found that out," cried Lockwood; "you will find me rougher -still before I have done with you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush! hush!" said Sally Stanley; "take him away and keep him where we agreed -upon. I will find those who will watch him well. You had better go with them -quietly, young man; for you must see by this time that there is no use of -struggling."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not much, I believe," answered Lockwood. "But I should wish to know, before -I go, my good woman, what it is you want, and what you are to do with me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"To keep you from making mischief," replied Sally Stanley. "There, take him -away, lads, and I will come up directly; but mind you keep him safe."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXVII.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">"This is weary work. Three days have I been alone; without the sight of any -human face but that of the turnkey. How burdensome becomes the weight of thought -as each hour goes by! It presses upon the brain as if a heavy stone were laid -upon the head. What a terrible thing is solitude, notwithstanding all that -Zimmermann has said of it--notwithstanding all that can be done to alleviate it! -But this is something more than solitude. Alexander Selkirk on his desert island -could change the scene, could vary the occupation every hour. Now, he could go -up the Blue Mountain, and gaze afar, 'the monarch of all he surveyed.' Then he -could wander down to the sea-shore, and send hope and expectation forth on a -voyage of discovery over the green waters before his eyes, to see if ship or -boat from the far native land were winging its way like a bird towards his place -of exile. Or else memory, like a bark freighted with treasure, would touch the -land, and he would see the stores of other days, the joys, the loves, the dreams -of youth and manhood spread out upon the beach. He could tame his wild birds or -his free goats; he could plant or reap his little field; he could garner or -grind his corn. He was no worse in fate than Eve-less Adam; and though it may -not be good for man to be alone, yet, when there is variety and occupation, the -evil is but small. Here, what is the variety? Four or five short steps from wall -to wall; the heavy door on one side; the high grated window on the other. But -yet, it might be worse. What a terrible thing solitary confinement must be! Here -the jailor comes in and speaks civilly; will stop a minute or two to tell you -what is going on without; will press me to walk in the yard, and tell me it is -quite airy and <i>cheerful</i>. Cheerful! Good God, what a word in the stony heart of -a prison! I declare I should regard the man who could be cheerful in such a -place as ten times worse than even his crimes had made him. To be cheerful here -would be an aggravation of every offence--and yet, perhaps, I am wrong. -Cheerfulness in some men is constitutional.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! yes, it might be worse. To be condemned to perfect solitude, and silence -too, with nothing but thought, thought, thought, rolling one upon the other, -like the eternal billows of a dark and gloomy sea: not a sight for the eye, not -a sound for the ear, till the one became blind, the other deaf, for want of -objects. It is horrible! What monster could devise such a means of starving the -senses one by one, till the living death of hopeless idiocy became the wretch's -fate? What were the cord, or the axe, or the rack itself to that? Yet, even that -might have an aggravation--if there were guilt upon the mind--some dark terrible -crime--murder!--the death of a fellow-creature, sent before to be our accuser at -God's throne! What awful storms would then move that black ocean of thought, -prolonged through the whole of life! What would it be with me, even through -three or four short days, when, innocent as I am, the passing of these solitary -hours is well nigh intolerable.--Innocent as I am! Who is innocent? Who can lay -his hand upon his heart, with God and his own conscience to witness, and say, 'I -am innocent; I have done no wrong?'--Who can arraign the decree of the Almighty -which strikes him for many a hidden fault, through the instrumentality of the -false judgment or iniquitous persecution of his fellow-man? Not I, for one! I -raised my hand against Lord Overton unjustly; I shed his blood, though I did not -take his life; I was a murderer in intention, if not in act; and now I am -accused of--perhaps may suffer for--the death of one whom I would have shed my own -blood to defend. The ways of God are strange and wonderful, but very just.</p> - -<p class="normal">"How curious it is that in solitude all the things we have done amiss in life -return upon the mind, distinct and clear--magnified even, if faults can be -magnified--when in the pleasures, and the business, and the every-day cares of -life, we forget them totally! And yet man was evidently meant for society. Is it -that the ever-present consciousness of our errors in this mortal state, would be -a burden too heavy to bear, were there not an alleviation in the thoughtful -absorption of the world's concerns--a burden which even faith in a Saviour (as -far as man's weakness will permit him to have faith) would not be sufficient to -relieve, unless his worldly carelessness lightened the load, by deceiving him as -to the weight? Perhaps it may be so; and yet, it is strange how often in this -life, our weakness is our strength. Since I have been here, how reproachfully -acts which I thought before perfectly venial have risen up in judgment against -me I how dark have seemed many deeds committed! how sadly ungrateful many an -omission has appeared! And shall not the same be the case hereafter? When a few -hours of solitude are sufficient to draw back thus far the glittering veil which -habit and the world cast over our faults, what will be the terrible sight when -that veil is torn away altogether, and the dark array of a whole life's sins and -follies stand naked and undisguised before us!--when the voice of conscience, -fully awakened, never to sleep again, exclaims, 'Lo your own acts! The children -of your mortal life! The witnesses against you for eternity!'"</p> - -<p class="normal">The above is an extract from a journal of Chandos Winslow, kept during his -imprisonment. I know that such grave subjects are not palatable to most readers: -they call them <i>longueurs</i>; they skip them; they want the story, nothing more. -Let them do as they please; the extract was necessary to the depiction of the -character. But I must show another side of it also--a somewhat lighter and more -cheerful one; but still one which is as likely to be skipped as the other, by -the mere novel-reader. For some time Chandos went on in the same strain of -gloomy thought; and occasionally dark forebodings would mingle with the text: -for the more he reflected upon the course he had determined to pursue, the more -difficult, nay, hopeless, seemed to be the attempt to defend himself. At length, -however, came the following passage:--</p> - -<p class="normal">"But I will have no more of such reveries. It is very strange, that for the -last four days I have not been able to read. The small space of my brain seems -too much crowded with thoughts of my own, to give other people's thoughts -admission. I will force myself to read, however; and think of what I read."</p> - -<p class="normal">Then came another passage, evidently after he had been reading for some time.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know not how it is, but none of these Italian poets interest me -much--perhaps the most, that mad-cap Ariosto. There is a reckless vigour about -him which none of the rest possesses; and their prettinesses tire. Tasso is -certainly very sweet and very graceful, but seldom powerful; and Dante, dark, -terrible, and stern, wants the relief of beauty. His Inferno is certainly a -grand poem, the personification of thousand hates and vengeances; but the -Paradise is a poor affair.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is very strange how much more difficult men find it to imagine and to -paint perfect happiness than exquisite torture. Perhaps it is because in this -life we are much more familiar with pain than pleasure. Pain and grief are to -human beings, positive; our greatest happiness here below rarely more than -negative--at all events, never unmixed. But in none of the Italians do we find -the grand march, the sustained majesty of the Greeks and the Romans. I cannot -help thinking that Boccaccio had more poetry in his nature than most of his -brethren; and there are some fine passages in his great poem, notwithstanding -its many wants. Many of his novels, too, are full of poetry. But, after all, ten -lines of Homer are worth all the Italian poetry that ever was written. Alfieri -seems to have felt this inferiority of the poets of Italy to the ancients, even -too much; and the effect has been a stiffness in his writings, produced by -aiming at dignity in a language which is not dignified. When the thought itself -is grand, its grandeur can only be preserved in so weak a tongue by clothing it -in the very simplest words. Dante was not alone aware of this, but was impelled -to that course by his own sharp character. He never strove to embellish by mere -words, though sometimes, as if to impress the idea upon the reader's mind, he -reiterates it in another form, venturing upon pleonasm as a means of force, in -which he was probably mistaken; at least, the effect upon my mind is always -disagreeable. It would be better if the verses were spoken. I cannot but -think--though perhaps it is national partiality--that the poets of England are -superior to any that have ever lived since the fall of the Roman empire. The -French have no poetry. The Germans have two or three great poets; but their -literature may be considered as yet in its infancy. The Spaniards have some -beautiful poems, it is true; but in all of them are blemishes which overbalance -the perfections. In the English tongue there has been excellent poetry enough -written in every different style and manner, to supply the whole world. A crowd -of our poets are unknown even to ourselves; and many of the very best are -imperfectly known, and that but to a few. The sonnet, indeed, attained its -highest point with Petrarch; and yet how beautiful are some of Sir Philip -Sidney's!--for instance, the one beginning--</p> - - -<p style="margin-left: 15%; text-indent:-8px">'No more, my dear, no more these councils -try,<br> -Oh give my passions leave to run their race.'</p> - - -<p class="continue">I forget the rest. My memory fails me sadly. What a strange thing memory is! -It seems as if the brain had a court painter, who sketches rapidly everything -presented to the senses; and then the pictures are pushed into the lumber-room -of the past, to grow dim and mouldy, with the smoke and damp of years, till they -are wanted, when they are taken forth again, and the dust is brushed off, though -sometimes not entirely--But who have we here? It is not the turnkey's hour."</p> - -<p class="normal">Here ends the journal for the time; and it may be as well to inquire, what -was the circumstance which caused the interruption; for it gave Chandos -sufficient thought for the rest of the day.</p> - -<p class="normal">Just as he had written the last words his solicitor was admitted, a shrewd -little elderly man, not without some kindness of disposition, and with a great -talent for making himself useful in small things, which is one of the most -serviceable qualities to himself that a man can possess. His ostensible object -was to tell Chandos that he had been to London for the purpose of holding a -consultation upon his case, and to cheer him up with the prospect of certain -acquittal; for as physicians often think it necessary (and with good reason) to -keep up the spirits of their patients, as long as there is any hope, by assuring -them of recovery, so the solicitors in criminal causes judge it right to comfort -the accused by promising them acquittal. I do believe that, there never yet was -a man hanged, who had a hundred pounds to fee lawyers, without being promised, -in the words of the toast, "long life and prosperity," till the very moment when -the jury gave their verdict. But the worthy solicitor had another object too, it -would seem; for as soon as he had disposed of all the evidence which had struck -the great barrister as so important with a mere "Pshaw! we will soon get over -that," he slipped a letter into Chandos's hand, saying, "That came to my office -for you while I was gone, and I brought it myself; for you know they have a -trick of opening prisoners' letters here. I gave General Tracy a hint, that all -your friends had better address under cover to me; and if you have any answer to -send, let it be ready and give it to me to-morrow. Keep it close until I am -gone, and then you can read it at your leisure."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos Winslow had glanced at the address, and had seen that the handwriting -was that of a lady. He had never seen Rose Tracy's writing. The letter might -come from either of a dozen other persons, friends or relations, who had heard -of his situation, and might wish to express sympathy and kindness. Nevertheless -Chandos did not doubt who was the writer; and as soon as the solicitor was gone, -he tore it open, and pressed his lips on the name at the bottom.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Dear Mr. Winslow," the letter began.--There had evidently been a struggle how -to commence it. She had even blotted the words Mr. Winslow, though Rose Tracy -was not apt to blot her letters. The prisoner thought that he could discern the -name of Chandos traced and erased beneath; and he murmured to himself, "She -might have left it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Dear Mr. Winslow," wrote Rose Tracy, "although I write under great distress -of mind, from the very painful circumstances in which my father has been placed -by the failure of some extensive speculations in which he was unfortunately led -to engage, I cannot quit Northferry without writing you a few lines (for doing -which I have my uncle's sanction) to say, that I am ready and willing to come -down and give evidence at the approaching trial; being perfectly certain of your -innocence, and believing in my heart that the crime of which you are accused was -committed by one of those persons whose voices we both heard when we last met. I -have thought it necessary to write upon this subject, because your friend, Sir ----- seemed to doubt whether you would wish to call me as a witness. I thank you -most sincerely for seeking to spare me the agitation which public examination in -a court of justice must always cause; and I thank you still more for that -delicate sense of honour which I know is one great cause of your hesitation. But -I do beseech you, do not let any such feelings prevent you from using the means -necessary to your exculpation. I know the world may blame me, when it is made -public, that I was aware of your name and family; that I did not inform my -father of the fact; and that I saw you at the same spot more than once--I dare -not say by accident. The blame will perhaps be just, and probably will be more -severe than if all the truth could be stated; but I will put it to your own -heart, my friend, how much less grief the severest censure of the world would -cause than to think that you had been lost for want of my testimony. Oh, spare -me that pain, Chandos! spare me the most terrible anguish that could be -inflicted on</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 45%"><span class="sc">"Rose Tracy."</span></p> -<br> - -<p class="normal">Chandos kissed the letter over and over again. It is wonderful in the moments -of distress and abandonment, when false friends forsake, and the light world of -acquaintances shun us, how sweetly, how cheeringly, even small testimonies of -undiminished regard come to us from the true and firm. Oh, how Chandos Winslow -loved Rose Tracy at that moment! How he longed to tell her the sensations that -her generous anxiety to save him even at the expense of pain and shame to -herself inspired in his bosom! He dared not, however, write all he felt; but in -the course of that evening he expressed his thanks in a way which he thought -would shadow forth, to her eye at least, the deeper feelings which he could not -venture to dwell upon. To write the letter was a happiness to him; but when he -came to conclude it with a "farewell," something seemed to ask him, if it might -not be the last. He fell into deep, sad thought again, and gloomy despondency -took possession of him altogether. He thought he could have been careless of -life but for Rose Tracy; and he felt sadly how acuminated and intense become the -affections which attach us to existence here when they all centre in one object.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">The assizes were opened at the town of S---- with all due solemnity. There were -sheriffs, and magistrates, and town council, and javelin-men, all on the move. -The judges went to church and to dinner. The day of that most disgraceful of -exhibitions, an assize ball, was fixed, and the grand jury was sworn and -charged. Did a grand jury perform its functions properly, or even know all its -attributes as they were formerly exercised, and still exist, it would be one of -the most useful institutions in the monarchy; but, alas! its just attributes are -nearly forgotten, its functions are falling into desuetude, and it confines its -operations, almost always, to returning as true those bills presented to it -which have even a shadow of probability on their side; or, instead of denouncing -real and serious evils, to the presentment of waggons overthrown and suffocating -court-houses.</p> - -<p class="normal">The lawyers were seen flitting about the streets; the usual morning -consultations and evening revels took place: witnesses and jurymen crowded the -inns; an enormous quantity of bad port, bad sherry, and worse madeira, was -consumed; and solicitors merited well the simile applied by sailors to -personages who are peculiarly busy.</p> - -<p class="normal">The calendar was very heavy. Nine very hard-fisted farmers had had their -ricks burnt; a manufacturer who indulged in truck, and was notorious for -reductions on Saturday, had been awoke in the night by the blowing up of one of -his factories; there had been a riot in one of the workhouses where the poor -were starved according to law, on the pretence of feeding them, and punished for -complaining. The magistrate, wisely or unwisely, had sent the case to the -sessions; and it was flanked by those of a man who had died from the neglect of -a relieving officer, and a woman who had drowned her child from the insanity of -destitution. There were several affrays with poachers, in which blood had been -shed; and that of two gentlemen, who had first horsewhipped and then shot at -each other, to the extinction of one life, and the risk of both. In short, it -was an edifying display of the results of civilization up to the period at which -we have now arrived, and of the peculiarly polished state of England, and its -respect for social order. I say nothing of the brotherly love, the Christian -charity, and the enlightened benevolence which oozed out through the pores of -the calendar. Verily it was fitted to raise us high in the eyes of Europe.</p> - -<p class="normal">It is marvellous with what celerity the grand jury returned true bills -against the whole of the accused. Did I say against the whole? It was a mistake. -Out of a hundred and thirty-four cases, they threw out one, just to keep up the -privilege of rejection. It was the case of a small proprietor who had knocked -down in the presence of three or four men, a rascally labourer, who would insist -upon passing along a path which had been used by his ancestors for five -generations. They threw it out, however, and the path was closed thenceforth to -all men for ever and aye.</p> - -<p class="normal">Amongst the other bills found, was one against Chandos Winslow, Esq., for the -wilful murder of John Roberts, attorney-al-law, &c. &c. &c. But it was a late -case on the roll, and a good deal of condemnation was done before that came on. -The first sharp appetite was taken off from both judge and jury, and the -solicitor congratulated himself and his client on the hanging period of the -assizes being on the decline. It is strange and not pleasant to think of, on how -many small circumstances a man's life hangs in the most civilized countries of -Europe, especially in the most Christian. A famished juror or two will turn the -balance any day; and I fear me that hunger is not an appetite which leans to -mercy. The beginning of the assizes is always a bad time to be tried. I would -not advise my felonious friend to attempt it if it can be put off. The jury then -think themselves a many-headed Aristides. Brutus was nothing to them, and Cato a -mere babe. They would condemn their own children to magnify the law. Then, -again, the end of the assizes is as bad; for both judge and jurymen have got -tired of the thing, and want to get home to their wives and families. This can -only be accomplished by despatching their men out of hand; and haste is always -cruel, rarely just.</p> - -<p class="normal">The charge of the judge to the grand jury is a more important matter than -people generally imagine. It is treated as a matter of course: or at best as an -opportunity afforded once in so many months for a great functionary to make a -clever speech on a very favourable subject. But it is much more than this. It -frequently gives a tone to the whole proceedings of the court. From the grand -jury it is reflected upon the petty jury, and affects them more than it does the -former. If the judge represents strongly the serious increase of crime upon the -calendar, and urges the necessity of vindicating the law and rigidly -administering justice, the Aristides' spirit I have talked of becomes very -rampant, and you are sure to hear, "Guilty, my lord," very frequently repeated -in the court. If, on the contrary, he congratulates the county on the small -amount of crime that has occurred since last he was seated in that place, and -declares that there are but one or two serious cases for their consideration, -the worthy jurymen think, when there are so few, it may be just as well to let -the poor fellows get off, as it is cold work hanging without company.</p> - -<p class="normal">As I have said, however, the calendar was heavy, and the judge made a very -serious and impressive charge, alluding particularly to the case of the murder -of Mr. Roberts. He called the attention of the grand jury particularly to it; -recommended them to cast from their minds everything they had heard, and to -consider the matter simply on the testimony which supported the charge. He -represented their duties as merely preliminary; (in which, indeed, he was -right;) but though he never mentioned the name of the accused person, he -declared the act to have been most barbarous and horrible; spoke of the deceased -as an innocent, honourable, industrious man, whose murder was an awful stain -upon the county and the kingdom; and in aggravating the heinousness of the -offence, produced, naturally enough, a very unfavourable opinion of the person -charged with committing it. While he was speaking in reprobation of the crime -with so much eloquence, the minds of the grand jury necessarily connected it -with Chandos Winslow as the perpetrator, and of course they returned a true -bill, as they would have done had not the evidence been half so strong against -him. It is very possible that the grand jury did dismiss from their minds all -they had heard before, though that is rarely done, and little to be expected; -but they assuredly did not dismiss from their minds the judge's charge, and that -was quite sufficient.</p> - -<p class="normal">The speech of his lordship was printed and circulated in the town of S---- that -night, and when the solicitor read it, he muttered between his teeth, "He will -sum up against the prisoner, that is clear. Our only hope is in the striking of -the jury."</p> - -<p class="normal">How horrible that any man should be able to divine, or pretend to divine, how -a judge will sum up in a case, the evidence upon which is not yet before him! -But, nevertheless, a solicitor of experience is seldom wrong in such matters.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos Winslow, too, read the charge, and came to the same conclusion. In -the cold and measured phrase, in the well-poised and cautious words, even in the -scrupulous abstinence from all allusion to himself, he saw an impression against -him, and was sure that it had not only been felt, but communicated. The most -deadly poison is that which acts with the least outward signs. He thought over -the circumstances deeply, and remained in thought for many hours. He tried to -view his own case as if it were not his own. He recalled every fact, and -arranged the one in connexion with the other. He separated what he himself knew, -but was resolved not to communicate, from that which was before the public eye, -and a terrible mass of criminatory circumstances was left unmixed. He looked at -the whole steadfastly and resolutely, and he asked himself what he had to oppose -to it. The answer was--"Nothing."</p> - -<p class="normal">Vague professions of innocence, the testimony of persons who had known him -long to his general character--this was all; but he knew well that all this was -nothing in a case like that before him. He was aware, moreover, that the refusal -to give explanations would be construed into a mere consciousness of guilt, and -yet he could neither do away the presumption of crime which existed in a -thousand of the facts against him, nor even account for one moment of his time -without casting back the charge of murder upon his own brother. It was a -terrible situation. The thought of Rose Tracy aggravated it, shook his firmness, -made his resolution waver; and starting up, he paced his cell backwards and -forwards for some minutes. But he conquered himself; he conquered the repugnance -to death and cold forgetfulness; he conquered the clinging of the heart to life -and love, and he sat down again, saying aloud, "No, I will not be the destroyer -of my brother."</p> - -<p class="normal">I will not say that hope went out, for the hope beyond this life remained; -but the hope of saving himself, the hope of his counsel making any available -defence, passed away as he reviewed the strong presumptive proofs against him, -spreading out, link after link, in a long chain, which bound him ready for a -death of ignominy. He made up his mind to it. He gave up the consideration of -the charge and the defence. He took one step over the earthly future, and, as if -standing at the ports of the tomb, he ventured to cast his eyes beyond. It is, -it must be, an awful moment for any man, when the words of fate are pronounced -and heard, when the irreversible decree has been notified to us, "This night -shall thy soul be required of thee!" when all the soft ties are to be broken; -when all the warm affections are to come to an end; when all the new cold things -of an untried fate are before us, and the prospect from the top of the bleak -hill of death swells into eternity. Then comes the terrible question, "How shall -I answer at the Throne of one perfectly pure, perfectly holy, for all the -trespasses committed in this mortal state? how have I stood the trial, trod the -path assigned to me? how have I fought the fight? how have I employed the -talent?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Who is there at such a moment that can dare to answer, "Well?"</p> - -<p class="normal">What would it be, when the presence of an earthly judge is terrible to an -offender, to plead one's own cause, to be one's own advocate before the Almighty -and Omniscient; to stand polluted in the Holy of Holies, in the presence of Him -who will not behold iniquity? But there is an Advocate to raise his voice in our -behalf; not to defend, but to mediate, to justify us by his righteousness, to -atone for us by his blood, to make the compensation which eternal justice -requires for sin, and reconcile the offending creature to the offended Creator.</p> - -<p class="normal">To Him Chandos Winslow raised his spirit in faith, and his voice in prayer, -and he found strength that no philosophy can give, hope when all the hopes of -earth had passed away.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXIX.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">It was the morning of Thursday, and generally understood that the trial of -Mr. Chandos Winslow, for the murder of his late father's steward, would come on -that day. Moreover, it appeared likely that the case would occupy two days, -unless it was early called on, as the number of witnesses was considerable. -Those who are knowing in such things considered the arrangement as rather -ominous: Friday being looked upon as an excellent day for condemnation. The -court was crowded to suffocation; but the spectators had a long time to wait ere -they had the pleasure of seeing a gentleman placed in the felon's dock. The -court was occupied during the greater part of the morning with cases of small -interest; and, between two and three in the afternoon, the crowd began in some -degree to diminish; many persons growing tired, and a belief becoming prevalent -that the cause would not be tried that day.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, however, when it was least expected, the cause was called on, and -two or three solicitors' clerks ran out of the court to call the counsel in the -case. The appearance of the leader for the crown excited some attention; but -that of the famous barrister, whom every one knew to have been brought down -especially from London, and who was generally reported to be the intimate friend -of the prisoner, created a murmur which lasted for some minutes. The two lawyers -were in the court, before Chandos Winslow was placed in the dock; for the -officers of the prison had been taken somewhat by surprise, from the rapidity -with which the preceding case had been brought to a conclusion. After a -momentary pause, however, the accused appeared, and there was an instant -movement, causing a good deal of confusion, from many persons endeavouring to -gain a better sight of the prisoner.</p> - -<p class="normal">It is probable that every one expected to behold a very different sort of -person from that which was now presented to him; but certain it is, that the -actual impression produced was highly favourable. The tall, commanding, manly -form; the air of calm unembarrassed grace; the grave, but firm, and almost stern -look; the lofty brow and speaking eye; the lip that quivered a little with -irrepressible emotion, at being made the gazing-stock of thousands: all excited -in the multitude those feelings of admiration which predispose to sympathy and -confidence. Bearing his head high, with his shoulders thrown back, and his chest -open, with his eye fixed tranquilly on the judge, and his step as firm as if he -had been treading his father's halls, Chandos Winslow advanced to the front of -the dock; and immediately his friend Sir ---- rose from his place, and with a -kindly nod of the head, spoke to him for a few moments, as if to show all -persons that he was proud of his friendship.</p> - -<p class="normal">The indictment was read, setting forth in various counts the charge against -the prisoner. Sir ----, desired to see the instrument, and then merely remarked, -that it was bad in law, and could not be sustained.</p> - -<p class="normal">"When the case for the defence comes on, I will hear your objection," said -the judge.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not know that it will be necessary, my lord;" replied the counsel. "My -friend and client has an invincible objection to take advantage of any -technicality; and, I think, we can do without a flaw, although I may judge it my -duty to show your lordship that there is a fatal one in this indictment."</p> - -<p class="normal">When called upon to plead, Chandos replied, "Not guilty," in a firm, slow, -and distinct voice; and the confident tone of the leader for the defence, as -well as the calm self-possession of the prisoner, had its effect both upon the -spectators and the jury. It was soon to be driven away, however; for the leader -for the crown rose after a few words from a junior; and a very different -impression was speedily produced. The lawyer who conducted the prosecution was a -tall handsome man, with strongly marked and expressive features, a powerful and -flexible voice, and great dignity of manner. He had one quality, however, which -was greatly in favour of a prisoner if he were retained as counsel for the -defence, but which told sadly against him if he appeared on behalf of the crown. -He seemed--it was merely seeming--so fully, so firmly convinced of the justice of -the cause he advocated, his manner was so sincere, his apparent candour so -great, that the jury, thoroughly believing he had no doubt, and weighing their -wits against his, naturally asked themselves, "If so learned and shrewd a man -has arrived at this conclusion, why should we venture to differ from him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">On the present occasion, he paused for an instant and rested his hand upon -the table, as if almost overpowered by his feelings--he never was calmer in his -life--and then, raising his head, went on, with the clear, distinct, grave tones -of his voice penetrating into every part of the court, in which there reigned a -dead silence.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord, and gentlemen of the jury," he said, "the most painful task of a -life that has not been free from sorrows is imposed upon me this day; and I -know--I feel--that I shall acquit myself ill. I beg you, therefore, to bear with -me, if my statements are not so clear, if my reasonings are not so forcible as -they ought to be; for, in my anxiety not to press anything too heavily against -the prisoner at the bar, I fear I may fall into the opposite error, and not give -due weight to many minor facts necessary to a full elucidation of the subject. -That error, however, is far less important than the grave and serious fault--I -might almost call it a crime, in a person in my present position--of suffering -either professional vanity, or the spirit of partisanship, to seduce me into -urging anything unjustly against a prisoner under trial. Into that fault, at -least, I will not fall--of that crime, I will not render myself guilty. I will -make no statement that I do not feel sure will be borne out by evidence, I will -use no argument which may not be justly applied; and I do assure the court, aye, -and the prisoner, that, if I could have avoided the task, I would have done so; -that if he can prove himself innocent, I shall rejoice; and if my learned friend -can show that my reasonings are not just, my views erroneous, I shall have a -triumph in defeat, and sincere satisfaction in a verdict against me. But I have -a high and solemn duty to perform to my country, gentlemen of the jury, as you -have also; and we must not suffer any personal feeling to interfere with its due -execution. We must recollect, that mercy to a criminal is cruelty to society, -and that to spare the offender is to encourage the offence. With these views, I -will 'nothing extenuate nor set down aught in malice,' but succinctly state to -you the facts, as many witnesses will afterwards prove them, omitting all that -seems to me doubtful, and urging nothing that is not necessary to the due -understanding of the case. On the evening of the fifth of February, gentlemen of -the jury, a highly respectable gentleman, of the name of Roberts, called at the -house of Mr. Tracy, of Northferry, in this county, and inquired for a person of -the name of Acton, under which name, or <i>alias</i>, as it is termed, you will find -that the prisoner is also indicted. This Mr. Roberts, it will be shown to you, -was the steward and confidential law agent of the late Sir Harry Winslow, a -gentleman of large property in this county; and in that capacity he was well -acquainted and had had numerous transactions with the younger son of Sir Harry, -a young gentleman, I must say, bearing a very high character, but, at the same -time, of a disposition to which I can only apply the terms of <i>sharp</i> and -<i>vindictive</i>, as I shall be enabled to show. This person, known by the name of -Acton, was at the time acting in the capacity of head-gardener, at the house of -Mr. Tracy, where he had been for nearly three months, or ever since the death of -Sir Harry Winslow. Upon my life, gentlemen of the jury, if the truth of the -whole were not too fatally established, I might think I was reciting a romance. -Mr. Roberts did not mention his business with the person he inquired for, but -being perfectly respectable in his exterior, was directed by the servants to -seek the head-gardener in the grounds, where he was usually to be found at this -hour. Now those grounds are very extensive, and an authentic plan has been taken -of them--I hold it in my hand--of which a copy has been furnished for your -guidance. You will there see that the real front of the house is turned towards -the gardens, which are remarkable, I am told, for their beauty and high -cultivation: an earthly Paradise, into which murder now first entered. Before -the house is a very extensive lawn, bordered with thick shrubberies, through -which run several gravel walks. This lawn is terminated by a belt of planting -irregularly disposed, so as to admit here and there views of the distant country -to any eye looking from the windows of the house; but completely concealing a -second lawn, somewhat less in extent, surrounded again by other shrubberies and -other walks, sloping down with a gradual descent to the open fields, (also the -property of Mr. Tracy,) from which the grounds are separated by a hedge, and in -some places by that peculiar species of enclosure called a haw-haw, or sunk -wall, with a broad ditch on the external side, faced on the side of the grounds -with perpendicular masonry, surmounted by a holly hedge; number 5 in the plan, -gentlemen of the jury. In the inside of this haw-haw and the hedge which forms -its continuation, is a broad walk under beech-trees, called the Lady's Walk; but -just opposite to the part of the walk where the figure 5 appears, the -beech-trees are interrupted, and a plot of grass occupies the semicircular -opening in the wood, in the bite or crescent of which is situated a small -building, in imitation of a Greek temple, covering a fish-pond. Between that -fish-pond and the haw-haw is a space of about twenty-five yards, which is the -scene of the tragedy that is under our consideration: a narrow strip for so -terrible an event. You will see that the broad gravel path, called the Lady's -Walk, passes close to the little building, the temple, number 7 in the plan. -Another walk, winding round the two lawns, and through the thick shrubberies, -conducts to the western side of the building, where it enters the Lady's Walk. -Down this winding path, it is probable, that poor Mr. Roberts came to meet his -death, as it will be proved that he crossed the first lawn (number 2) towards it -from the western side of the house. I should have mentioned that the hour at -which he asked for Acton, the head-gardener, was five in the evening, when the -sun is just down at that period of the year, but when the twilight is still -clear. He was never seen alive afterwards, that we know of, but by his murderer; -and about ten at night he was found lying on the grass between the little temple -and the haw-haw, with two severe blows on the head, one of which had fractured -the skull, and so severely injured the brain that death must have been -instantaneous. By his side was found an implement used in gardening, and called, -I believe, a Dutch hoe, which will be produced for your inspection. It was -covered--at least, the iron head was covered--with blood and grey hair, and the -surgeon who made a post mortem examination of the body will prove, that the -wound which produced death must have been inflicted by an instrument very -similar. Such are the bare facts of the murder of Mr. Roberts as they appear -beyond all doubt; and I now approach with deep pain, reluctance, and even -diffidence, the circumstances which connect the prisoner at the bar with the -fatal event. First, gentlemen, it will be my duty to show you that the person -who, under the name of Acton, filled the humble situation of head-gardener to -Mr. Tracy, of Northferry, is one and the same person as Mr. Chandos Winslow, -younger son of the late Sir Harry Winslow, of Elmsly and Winslow Abbey, in this -county. It might be irrelevant to inquire what induced a gentleman of such birth -and pretensions to condescend to such an office, but if it could be shown that -he quitted his brother's mansion and abandoned the society in which he had moved -from his birth on some disgust, occasioned by transactions in which this very -unfortunate Mr. Roberts had a share, it might, indeed, be important in -establishing a motive for the act with which he is charged."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir ---- instantly rose, and said aloud, "I hope my learned brother will not -make insinuations which he is not able fully to bear out by evidence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If my learned friend had not interrupted me," replied the leader for the -Crown, "he would have heard me declare that I was unwilling to press against the -prisoner anything that could not be proved beyond all doubt; and therefore, that -it was not my intention to connect any former disputes between the prisoner and -the unhappy Mr. Roberts with the present charge; but to beg the jury to dismiss -from their minds everything in their consideration of motives but the actual -subject of dispute which I am about to allude to, and which can be proved by -evidence unimpeachable."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must beg the interference of the court in protection of my client," said -the prisoner's counsel, in a firm and stern tone; "it is contrary to all -practice, and, I must add, contrary to all justice, to allude to imaginary -circumstances as facts when there is no intention of proving them, thereby -producing an impression upon the minds of the jury most detrimental to a -prisoner, without giving the prisoner's counsel a fair opportunity of removing -it. Were it not a most dangerous precedent, I should say that I am very glad -such a course has been pursued by my learned friend, as, in this case, I am in a -condition to rebut his insinuations as well as to disprove his facts; but, -reverencing law and justice, and seeing great inconvenience likely to occur -hereafter from such a practice, I must most solemnly claim the protection of the -court for my client."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The jury will rely only upon evidence," said the judge; "the assertions or -insinuations of counsel, unsupported by evidence, are mere wind. The course of -alluding even to any circumstance not intended to be proved, I must say, is very -mischievous; but I dare say it was in the brief."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I bow to the decision of the court," said the leader for the Crown; "but I -can assure my learned friend, that I intended to produce no impression upon the -minds of the jury but a just one; and, without at all recurring to the past, I -am perfectly prepared to show by evidence that at the time the murder was -committed, the prisoner at the bar and the unfortunate Mr. Roberts were engaged -in a very sharp dispute about some property left to the former. I have said, -gentlemen of the jury," he continued, with perfect tranquillity and -satisfaction, "that it would be irrelevant to inquire what could induce a -gentleman of the prisoner's rank and pretensions to accept the humble post of -gardener in the family of Mr. Tracy. However, the fact that he did so will be -established, and in that situation he inhabited a cottage (number 9 in the plan) -close to the hedge bordering the Lady's Walk, and was entrusted with a key of -the small gate into the grounds (at number 10.) It will be in evidence, -gentlemen, that after having been absent for about a month, by Mr. Tracy's -permission, during which he had resumed his station, mingled with his own rank -of society in London, and fought a duel with Viscount Overton, in which the -latter was desperately wounded, the prisoner returned to his cottage at -Northferry on the afternoon of the fifth of February, the day of the murder, and -almost immediately went out again. It will be shown to you, that the sun was -then setting, or had already set, and that he entered the gardens, and took his -way towards the very spot where the crime was committed, having in his hand the -identical hoe (or one precisely similar) which was afterwards found by the dead -body. This will be proved by two witnesses, whose veracity will not, I presume, -be impeached. You will soon have it in evidence, that he did not return to his -cottage till six, when he was in a state of much agitation; that he then went to -his room, and, after washing his hands, threw the water he had used for the -purpose out of the window; but that, nevertheless, there was upon the towel a -red stain, as of blood diluted with water. You will find, that one arm of the -fustian coat which he wore that night was stained with blood; and it will be -also shown that footmarks, exactly corresponding with the shoes he wore, even to -the most minute particulars, were found coming and going from the spot where the -murdered man lay to the haw-haw. Now, gentlemen of the jury, it may seem -difficult to prove to you that the murder, which was not discovered till ten, -took place between the hours of five and six. There would indeed be a -presumption that such was the case, from the fact of Mr. Roberts having gone -down in that direction at five in search of the prisoner, who was then in the -garden, and never having got further than the Lady's Walk; but still there would -be a doubt, and I should be the first to entreat you to give the person accused -the benefit of that doubt. But, unfortunately, I regret most deeply to say it, -by one of those strange accidents which ever, sooner or later, bring their guilt -home to the perpetrators of great crimes, I have the means of showing that the -fatal deed must have been done some time between ten minutes or a quarter after -five and half-past five." Sir ---- leaned forward and listened eagerly, and the -leader for the prosecution continued, with an air of solemn sadness, "I allow -from ten minutes to a quarter of an hour for any error that Mr. Tracy's servants -may have made in regard to the time of Mr. Roberts' visit to the house, and for -the time occupied by him in seeking through the grounds for the prisoner; but at -half-past five, it then being almost dark, a little boy, the son of a gipsey -woman, saw, in passing along as he returned from the school at Northferry, a -dark body lying on the ground, like the figure of a man asleep, close by the -little fish-pond or basin near which Mr. Roberts was murdered. The boy's history -is not without its interest. He had, it seems, aided in saving the life of -General Tracy, Mr. Tracy's elder brother, from the attack of a furious bull. The -General, in gratitude, took the boy under his protection, and placed him to -board at the cottage of the head-gardener. The hour at which he ought to have -returned from school to the cottage was somewhat earlier--about five, I believe; -but he met with his mother in the village, and lingered for a time with her. In -order to shorten the way, he stole through the gardens, and got over the gate -near the head-gardener's cottage, thus passing within twenty or thirty yards of -the spot where the body lay. He will prove that he thought it was a man asleep, -and that he is quite certain that it was a man."</p> - -<p class="normal">The learned gentleman paused, and, from under his bushy eyebrows, turned a -glance towards the face of the leader for the defence. What he saw there he did -not exactly understand; for there was a very slight smile on the great -barrister's lip; but that smile had something of triumph in it. He knew not if -the smile was sincere, or whether it was not assumed to cover mortification; but -yet, it was evidently kept down rather than displayed, and in this state of -doubt he might not have called the boy, perhaps, had it been possible to avoid -it. The passing of these considerations through his mind did not arrest his -eloquence for more than a moment, and he went on as follows:--</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have now, gentlemen of the jury, given you a brief outline of the case -against the prisoner, as I believe it will be fully proved by evidence; and I do -not think, if such be the case, and if the respectability of the witnesses is -unimpeached and their testimony be not shaken by cross-examination, that you can -come to any other conclusion than that which, I grieve to say, I myself have -arrived at. You will hear what they have to say, you will judge from their -words, and even the manner in which their evidence is given, what credence they -deserve. God forbid that you should attach more to their evidence against the -prisoner than to any testimony which can be fairly adduced in his favour. What -course of defence my learned friend may adopt I cannot divine, but mere -testimonials of character, learning, high qualities, and previous integrity -cannot avail here. Nor must rank and station be taken for one moment into -consideration. A prisoner at the bar of justice stands stripped of all -adventitious advantages. He is there as before the throne of Heaven, only in the -common character of man. If he be of high rank and good education, it is no -reason for pre-supposing innocence or extenuating guilt. Quite on the contrary. -Crimes of the most serious magnitude have been proved against persons greatly -elevated in station. Peers of England have suffered on the scaffold for -deliberate murder; and the advantages of rank and education, in the immunity -which they give from ordinary temptation, only serve to aggravate the offence. -Nor can a previous upright, honourable, and even peaceful life, if it could here -be proved, weigh much to neutralize distinct evidence. We have too many -instances, gentlemen, of men, the great bulk of whose life has been high, holy, -and innocent, yielding to some strong temptation, and committing acts which on -cooler reflection they have often shuddered at. Need I cite the case of the -unfortunate Dr. Dodd? You must look upon the prisoner merely as a man; you must -weigh well every tittle of the evidence against him. You will find that, as in -almost all cases of murder, that evidence is purely circumstantial; no man but a -madman commits such a crime when the eyes of any but accomplices are upon him. -But you have all too much good sense and experience not to know that a long -chain of circumstantial evidence, perfect and unbroken as this seems to me to -be, is more strong, more conclusive than even direct evidence. In such cases, to -suppose a fraud on the part of the witnesses for the crown, is to imagine that -an immense number of persons are all combined in one common league to destroy -another, and that they have so well arranged their scheme that cross-examination -will not unravel it: whereas, in direct evidence, often afforded by one or two -witnesses only, a much greater opportunity is to be found for successful -falsehood if any motive for injuring a prisoner exists. I do not ask a verdict -at your hands. I am far from desiring one against the prisoner at the bar. I -pray Heaven that he may be able to exculpate himself and quit that dock free -from all suspicion. Even if there be a reasonable doubt in your minds, you must -give him the advantage of it; but you will remember that it must be a reasonable -doubt. You must not say to yourselves, 'Perhaps he did not commit the act, after -all,' because no one saw him commit it; but if the chain of evidence is clear -and convincing, you must remember your oaths, your duty to your country and your -God; and, having consulted only conscience, express by your verdict the -conviction of your minds, as you will answer for it at the dreadful day of -judgment."</p> - -<p class="normal">The learned gentleman sat down after having produced a terrible effect upon -the minds of the jury; but the judge, who was accustomed to such speeches, and -moreover hungry, interrupted the further proceedings by inquiring, in the most -commonplace tone in the world, if the evidence for the prosecution could be got -through that night. There seemed some doubt upon the subject; and as it was now -late; for the counsel had spoken very slowly, his lordship suggested that it -would be better to take the evidence of one witness, and then adjourn to the -following day. The testimony given was of little importance, for it only went to -prove the identity of Chandos Winslow with John Acton--a fact which there was no -intention of denying; and after it had been heard the court rose.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXX.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">There had been long and anxious consultations during the evening upon the -case of Chandos Winslow: first came the question whether the objection to the -indictment should be pressed; and it was ultimately agreed that it should not be -altogether abandoned, although the leader seemed much more confident of making a -good defence than his junior. Then came the important question of -cross-examination; and Sir ----, with tact and delicacy, but in a very decided -manner, pointed out the course which he thought it would be necessary to pursue, -and the objects that he wanted to establish.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Our good friend, the serjeant," he said, speaking to the younger lawyer, -"thought he had made a hit this morning in regard to the gipsey boy; but he was -doing our work for us. We must endeavour, my dear Sir, to-morrow, instead of -shaking the boy's testimony, to render it as precise as possible, so as to leave -not the slightest doubt that the murder was committed between ten minutes or a -quarter past five and half-past five; and we must endeavour to get from the old -woman--Humphries, I think, is her name," and he looked at his notes--"an admission -that Mr. Winslow might have left the cottage some minutes before five. For these -two objects we must try, more than for anything else."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I almost think that the game is rash," said the junior; "but you know best."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We are positively precluded," replied the great barrister, "from the -straightforward course of defence. I, individually, am placed in the most -awkward position as the friend of the prisoner. I believe I ought not to have -seen him at all; but my regard for him overcame my prudence; and when I did see -him, he made communications to me which, while they left no doubt of his -innocence greatly embarrassed me, under the circumstances, as to the defence. -Those circumstances I cannot explain, even to you, my dear friend, all legal -etiquettes, notwithstanding; but you will forgive me when you know that he bound -me by a solemn promise not to reveal them to any one."</p> - -<p class="normal">The conference did not terminate till late; and the little solicitor was in a -mighty fuss from having found that the general opinion of the bar was decidedly -against his client; a matter of no slight importance, be it remarked; for the -bar is very seldom wrong.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the following morning, at the usual hour, the judge took his seat, and the -jury their places; the court was even more crowded than on the day before, and -the prisoner was once more placed in the dock. No change had taken place in his -appearance, except, perhaps, that he was even a shade graver. He asked, however, -to be permitted the use of a chair, and to be furnished with pen, ink, and -paper, which was granted to him. The name of James Wilson was then called, and -one of Mr. Tracy's footmen got into the box. I shall give his testimony in his -own words:--"I am a servant in the employment of Mr. Tracy, of Northferry House. -I was so on the fifth of February last. I remember on that day, about five in -the evening, a gentleman coming to the door and asking me if I could tell him -where to find Acton, the head-gardener. I answered that I could not, for that he -had been absent for some time, by Mr. Tracy's leave. The gentleman seemed very -much vexed, and I think said, 'How unfortunate!' But Mr. Jones, my master's -valet, who was crossing the hall at the time, came up, and said, 'No, no, -Wilson; he came back this afternoon.' And then turning to the gentleman, he -said, 'If you go through that glass-door, Sir, and across the lawn, you will -most likely find him somewhere in the grounds. If not, he must be at his cottage -in the lane just beyond; any of the gardener's men will show you the way.' The -gentleman then crossed over, as he had been directed, and went out into the -grounds. I had never seen him before, but I remarked his face well. I never saw -him afterwards alive; but the same night, about ten o'clock, I was called upon, -with several more, to go down to a tool-house not far from the fish-pond, and I -then first heard that the body of a dead man had been found and conveyed -thither. The moment I saw the corpse, I knew it was that of the gentleman who -had been inquiring for Acton. The body did not seem to have been rifled; and -some money, a pocket-book, a watch, and a pair of spectacles, were taken from it -by Mr. Tracy, as well as several loose papers; all of which he gave to Taylor, -the butler, to keep, telling him to mark them, and, as I understood him, to give -them to the constable. After looking at the body, we all went down to the place -where the under-gardener had found it; we looked, as well as we could by the -light of a lantern, for steps, but we could not find much then. As we were -looking for the marks of steps, I found what they call a Dutch hoe, the iron -part of which was covered with blood, and there was some gray hair sticking -about it. When we went back to the tool-house where the body lay, Mr. Tracy sent -for Acton, the head-gardener, who came up directly; he walked straight up to the -body, when he was told a man had been found murdered in the grounds; and, in -answer to a question from Mr. Tracy, said, he knew the dead man quite well, that -his name was Mr. Roberts, and that he was agent to the late Sir Harry Winslow. -He seemed very sad, but quite calm and cool. I see the person I call Acton in -the court. He is the prisoner in the dock. I cannot say whether he was surprised -or not; he certainly looked horrified. Mr. Tracy showed him the hoe, and asked -him whose it was. He replied immediately that it was his, and said, that he had -left it leaning against one of the pillars by the fish-pond, while he spoke a -few words to Miss Rose Tracy; he also said that he had quitted the garden -immediately after speaking with Miss Rose."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did he make any remarks upon the hoe?" asked the examining counsel.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He took it up," answered the witness, "looked at it for a minute, and then -said the murder must have been committed with this."</p> - -<p class="normal">The examination in chief here closed, and the counsel for the defence rose to -cross-examine the witness.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have told us," he said, "that when Mr. Roberts called at Northferry -House, in the evening, you remarked his face well. Had you any light in the -hall?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"No Sir; but there was light enough to see, and the gentleman was -quite close to me. The evening light comes through the glass doors; and what -there was of it fell right upon him, so that I could see him quite well."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That might very well be," said the barrister, "at a quarter after five, or -even later: is it not so?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh dear yes, Sir," replied the witness; "and I recollect now, it could not -be more than ten minutes after five; for Mr. Taylor said to me just the minute -before, 'James, it is past five, and you have not rung the first bell;' and I -looked at the clock over the kitchen door, and saw it was six or seven minutes -after. I was running up to ring the bell when the gentleman came, and asked for -Mr. Acton."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then was it ten minutes past five when Mr. Roberts called?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"About it," answered the witness.</p> - -<p class="normal">The Judge.--"How long would it take to walk down from the house to the place -where the body was found?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"About ten minutes by the walks, my lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">Judge.--"What do you mean when you say 'by the walks?'"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, a man may cut across the lawns," said the witness.</p> - -<p class="normal"><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Judge.--"Did Mr. Roberts cut across the -lawns?"</span><br> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Only a little bit; and then took the gravel walk on the right, -through the shrubbery."</p> - -<p class="normal">After a short pause, this witness was ordered to go down; and Lloyd Jones was -called.</p> - -<p class="normal">I shall proceed, copying from the report of the trial in "The Times."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lloyd Jones said--"I am valet to Mr. Tracy, of Northferry House. I remember -the fifth of February last. On that day, about five o'clock, I was passing -through the entrance hall, towards my master's dressing-room, when I saw a -gentleman at the door, speaking to the last witness. I heard him ask for Acton, -the gardener, and the last witness say that Mr. Acton was absent. Having heard -one of the men say he had seen Acton a few minutes before, going to his cottage, -I stepped forward and told the gentleman he had returned, and would most likely -be found in the grounds, if he would go through the glass doors on the other -side of the hall, and seek him. He said he would; and I opened the glass doors -for him. He cut across the corner of the lawn, and went down the gravel walk. He -walked rather fast, and seemed eager to see Mr. Acton. I did not go down to the -tool-house with Mr. Tracy when the body was discovered. I happened to be out at -the time; but I saw the corpse next morning. It was that of the gentleman I had -seen speaking to James Wilson. I never saw the person before. The prisoner at -the bar is the person we have always called Acton. It was about five o'clock -when the gentleman came, I know; because the first bell had not rung, and it -always rang at five. There are two bells rung every evening at Northferry; one -at five and one at half-past. My master dines at six in the country, and at -half-past seven in London. The second is called the dressing-bell. I am quite -sure it was not the second bell, which had not rung. It was the first; for I -always go to put out Mr. Tracy's things when the first bell rings."</p> - -<p class="normal">Cross-examined by Mr. B----. --"You say that you always go to put out Mr. -Tracy's things when the first bell rings. How came you to do so on that night -before it had rung?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Because it was later than usual. I suppose Wilson had forgot it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Then you were in a great hurry, I suppose, to get your work over, -and to go and play the gentleman in the housekeeper's room."</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"No, Sir, I was not; but I know my duty, if other people do not; and -when I found by my watch that it was some time past five, and the bell had not -been rung, I said to Mrs. Hilston, 'If they do not choose to ring the bell, it -is no affair of mine. I will go and get master's things ready.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"You seem to be a very punctual gentleman, indeed."</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"I hope I am, Sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And pray how far did your punctuality extend on this occasion," said the -prisoner's counsel, in a sneering tone; "that you should risk getting a -fellow-servant into a scrape, by taking notice that the bell had not rung at the -right hour? It was not above two or three minutes too late, I dare say."</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"I beg your pardon, Sir; it was near a quarter-of-an-hour."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Are you quite sure?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, I am quite sure," answered the witness; "for I looked at my watch."</p> - -<p class="normal">Re-examined.--"James Wilson is usually very accurate. I am sure I did not -intend to say a word against him; but that night he was a little late. It might -be ten minutes, or a quarter-of-an-hour. I cannot say to a minute. I know it was -a good deal after the time."</p> - -<p class="normal">Edward Taylor was then called, and identified the prisoner as the person who -had served Mr. Tracy in the quality of gardener, under the name of Acton. He -then went on as follows:--"About a quarter-past ten I was called to speak with -Slater, the under-gardener, who seemed in a great fright. He told me that in -going his round, as he always did at ten, he had found a dead man, lying near -the pond of gold-fish. I went directly down with him, thinking he might be -mistaken, and that the man might only be drunk. We took several of the servants -with us and a lantern. James Wilson was one of the party. We found there the -body of Mr. Roberts, quite dead and stiff, and took it up amongst us, and -carried it to the tool-house in the shrubbery. I sent up at once to tell Mr. -Tracy, who came down directly. We did not do anything to the corpse, but carry -it to the tool-house and lay it on the bench. We did not examine the pockets -till Mr. Tracy came. There was the mark of a blow just above the temple, and a -deep wound a little further back, with some of the brains smashed upon the hair. -There was a great deal of blood about the corpse: the shirt-collar was all -soaked with it. When Mr. Tracy came he examined the pockets and took out a -letter, which I have delivered to the constable of Northferry, The letter was -addressed to 'Richard Roberts, Esq., Winslow Abbey;' and was signed, 'Chandos -Winslow.' Besides the letter, Mr. Tracy took out two or three papers, a -pocket-book, a purse, a watch and seals, and a pair of spectacles. As soon as he -took anything out of the pockets, he handed it to me, and by his orders I marked -it as well as I could with a pencil. I have delivered the whole to the -constable, in whose possession I believe they still are. He will produce them."</p> - -<p class="normal">The witness then went on to describe the examination of the spot where the -body had been found, and confirmed, in all respects, the evidence of the -footman.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next questions were, as to the conduct and demeanour of the head-gardener -when summoned to the tool-house, by Mr. Tracy's order.</p> - -<p class="normal">To interrogatories upon this subject, the witness replied,--"When he came into -the tool-house, he seemed grieved and sad, but not at all surprised. He -expressed no surprise, but looked at the body very sadly, and told at once who -it was. He acknowledged that the hoe was his, but said he had left it leaning -against the pillar; and, after looking at it, he said the murder must have been -committed with it. He said, he left the garden immediately after speaking a few -words with Miss Rose, near the fish-pond."</p> - -<p class="normal">Judge.--"I suppose you call Miss Rose Tracy; but I do not see her name here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"We took it for granted, my lord, that she would be called for the defence," -said the counsel for the prosecution.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I beg leave to say that the crown had no right to take that for granted," -observed Sir ----; "all that we could wish to get from Miss Tracy could be -obtained by cross-examination, or perhaps would appear in her evidence in -chief."</p> - -<p class="normal">Judge.--"I think she ought to have been called for the prosecution. Will you -proceed?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Which way did the head-gardener return to his cottage after having left the -tool-house?" was the next question.</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"By the house; for the door near the gardener's cottage was ordered -to be locked. He could not pass to and fro between the spot where the body was -found and the haw-haw, without coming round again by the house, or getting over -the hedge or gate."</p> - -<p class="normal">Here ended the examination-in-chief; and as it came to a conclusion, a small -slip of paper was handed from the prisoner to his counsel, who read it, and -immediately began the cross-examination. "You say that before Mr. Tracy was -informed of the fact of the murder, you went down with some of the upper -servants and removed the body to the tool-house. At that time did any of you go -from the spot where the corpse lay to the haw-haw?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"No, Sir: we took up the body as soon as we were sure the man was -quite dead, and carried it to the tool-house."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Will you swear," asked the counsel, "that when you afterwards examined the -spot with Mr. Tracy, none of you went down to the haw-haw? Remember, Sir, you -are upon your oath."</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"I never said nobody went down. Perhaps they might. I don't -recollect."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Your memory seems to halt very strangely. Will you swear that one -of the men did not go down and look over the hedge into the haw-haw to see if -there was anybody there?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"I believe one of them did; but I am sure I do not recollect who it -was."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Oh! Now, Sir, for another part of the subject; and be so good as to -be a little sincere; for recollect that you are sworn to tell 'the whole truth,' -as well as 'the truth.' You have said that Mr. Tracy ordered the gate near the -head-gardener's cottage to be locked. Pray, did he do this of his own mere -motive, or was it suggested to him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"It was suggested to him by Mr. Acton, that is to say, Mr. Winslow, -who said, that it would be better to lock that gate, and then the men, having to -go another way to their work, would not put out any marks that might be upon the -ground; and he gave up to Mr. Tracy his own key."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Well, that was not very like a guilty man. Now tell me, was the -ground hard or soft at that time?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Soft, Sir," answered the butler; "for the frost had not long broke up."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then the marks of all the feet which went about the place would be very -distinct?" said the counsel.</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Why, Sir, there were such a number of them, that they must have cut -one another up a good deal."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Pray, were you with the constable on the following morning, when he -went to trace and measure the steps?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Yes, Sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Pray which of the line of traces was it that corresponded with the -shoes of the prisoner?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"They were all the same. There were two lines, one from the -fish-pond to the haw-haw, and one back again to the spot where the corpse was -found."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is to say, merely to and fro," said the counsel.</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Yes, Sir; I did not see any more."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pray, did you measure any body else's shoes?" was the next question; but -immediately the counsel for the prosecution rose and objected to the course of -the cross-examination.</p> - -<p class="normal">He said "that nothing in the examination-in-chief could naturally lead to the -questions now asked."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I seek, my lord," said Mr. B----, "simply to elicit the truth, which is, I -believe, the object of the court. The witness has admitted that one of the men, -in examining the spot after the murder, went from that spot to the haw-haw and -back; and that there were but two lines of traces. Now I wish to show--"</p> - -<p class="normal">Judge.--"I cannot allow the argument to go on. There are rules of evidence -which no one is better acquainted with than the counsel for the defence. He must -be aware that this line of cross-examination is inadmissible."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"I bow to the ruling of the court. You may go down, Sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">He had, in fact, obtained nearly all he desired; and it may be as well to -remark, that poor Mr. Taylor was one of those victims of the bar who, on -entering a witness-box, show a certain sort of nervousness, which immediately -indicates to cross-examining counsel, the existence in their minds of a quality -which may be termed <i>perplexability</i>; which, like the scent of the hare or the -fox, instantly leads the whole pack in full cry after them. Poor Taylor was as -honest a man as ever lived; but yet, confounded by his cross-examination, and -not very well recollecting the exact circumstances of events which had taken -place when his hair was standing on end with horror, he had told, or -admitted--which comes to the same thing--an exceedingly great falsehood. None of -the men who examined the spot with Mr. Tracy, had gone down to the haw-haw; but -the counsel had put it in such a way that, in his confused remembrance of the -events, he was at first afraid of denying it; and afterwards became persuaded it -was true. Had he remained much longer in the witness-box, and had the counsel -been permitted to pursue his own course, there is probably nothing in the range -of possibility which Mr. Taylor would not have vouched upon oath; for he was -becoming more and more confounded every moment.</p> - -<p class="normal">The counsel for the prosecution saw the state he was in too well to venture -to re-examine him; and thus he was suffered to depart in peace.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next witness who was called was 'William Sandes;' and a stout countryman -entered the witness-box, with a somewhat heavy, dogged countenance. He deposed -as follows:--"I am a labouring gardener in the employment of Arthur Tracy, Esq. I -remember the events of the fifth of February last distinctly. I had worked in -the garden all day, and at five o'clock in the evening I was returning home with -my son behind me. In the walk that leads from the pond of gold-fish--what we call -the Temple basin--to the gate by the head-gardener's cottage, I met Mr. Acton, -the prisoner at the bar--I did not know he had come back. He had a hoe in his -hand--what we call a Dutch hoe. I have seen a similar one in his hands often -before. I saw the same, or one very like it, before the crowner's jury--"</p> - -<p class="normal">The prisoner here said aloud, "The hoe was mine."</p> - -<p class="normal">The witness then continued: "Mr. Acton spoke a few words to me and to the -boy. I know him quite well, having served under him some months. I can swear it -was the prisoner I met. He was going from the gate near his own house towards -the basin. He had on a fustian coat with large pockets, such as he generally -wore on working days. I did not look at his shoes. I did not hear of the murder -till late that evening, when one of the servants from the house came down for -the key I have of the gate. He woke me out of bed, and told me a man had been -found murdered in the grounds. I went the next morning before the crowner and -told all I knew."</p> - -<p class="normal">The witness was then cross-examined.--"What induced you to go before the -coroner, when you knew nothing of the murder?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Why the servant, that is, Burwash, the boy, who was sent for the -key, said that they all thought Mr. Acton had done it; and so I said, 'Likely -enough; for I met him just going down that way.' And then he said I must go -before the crowner, for Mr. Tracy had sent for him; and I said I would."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Very kind and liberal on all parts! But now tell me if you were -quite sure it was the prisoner. Remember, the sun was down, and it must have -been darkish."</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Not a bit of if. It was quite light, master. I don't think the sun -was down. I saw him as plain as I see you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pray, how could that be at past five o'clock?" asked the counsel.</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"I did not say it was past five o'clock. It might be a minute or two -before."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But what I want to know is, are you quite sure?" continued the counsel; -"suppose another man, very like the prisoner, had passed you in the same dress, -at past five o'clock on a darkish evening, can you swear that you would have -distinguished him from the prisoner at the bar?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, I tell you as plain as I can speak, it was not past five," cried the -witness; "it might be a quarter afore, for that matter."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Ah! Then it was a quarter before five, and broad daylight, was it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Yes, Sir, it was."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Now then for another question, my man. I see you are a good -downright fellow, who will speak the truth for or against, without caring. Did -you and the head-gardener ever have any quarrel?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"We once had a bit of a tiff."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"What was it about?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The counsel for the prosecution objected to the question. The judge said he -did not see how it bore on the examination-in-chief; but Mr. B---- insisted, and -he was supported strongly by his leader, who declared that the answer of the -witness would immediately show the connexion. If it did not, it could be struck -out of the evidence.</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel for the crown.--"After the impression has been produced?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel for the defence.--"Not at all. The cause of the quarrel is immediately -connected with the examination-in-chief. My learned friend does not venture to -put the question in a leading shape, as some counsel would not scruple to do. -But if we are overruled, I will so frame the question in one minute as to be -unobjectionable in point of form, and perhaps less pleasant to those who seek a -conviction, than in its present shape."</p> - -<p class="normal">He spoke with some heat, and the question was allowed, and repeated.</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Why, it was in January last, when there was little to be done in -the garden, and I went away a bit before the time, because it was our club -night. He jawed me about it, and said as long as he was head-gardener the men -should keep their time."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"On the night of the fifth of February, I think you said that you -did not know the prisoner had returned till you saw him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"No, that I didn't."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel, emphatically.--"I have done."</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness re-examined.--"I think it was five o'clock when I met the prisoner, I -cannot exactly say. I have a watch, but I do not always look at it: I did not -that night. I guessed it was five, and I went."</p> - -<p class="normal">The next witness was Mr. Andrew Woodyard, surgeon, who deposed that he had -examined the dead body of a person who, he was informed, had been found in the -grounds of Mr. Arthur Tracy, of Northferry House. He had discovered, he said, -severe injuries on the head, consisting of a contusion over the left temple, and -a contused wound further back, on the same side, which had fractured the skull -and injured the brain. The latter was the immediate cause of death. It must have -been inflicted with a sharp instrument. A blow from a Dutch hoe would probably -produce all the appearances which he had observed. He had no doubt that the -wound was the cause of death.</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel for the prosecution.--"Would such a blow always produce death as an -inevitable consequence?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"No."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"In what cases do you think, Mr. Woodyard, a more favourable result -might be anticipated?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"In cases of idiots, of atheists, and of young lawyers: that is to -say, where the brain is soft, is wanting, or is wrong placed."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel for the defence, laughing.--"We shall decline to cross-examine this -witness;" and, without moving a muscle of his face, Mr. Woodyard was about to -quit the box, when the judge exclaimed in a severe tone, "The witness will do -well to remember, that to give evidence in a court of justice is a serious -matter."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am perfectly serious, my lord," replied the surgeon, turning full upon -him; "I am well aware that none but judges and queen's counsel at the lowest, -are permitted to play the fool in such places as this."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have a great mind to commit you, Sir," thundered the judge, bending his -brows upon him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"In so doing, my lord, you would commit yourself," said Mr. Woodyard; and -without waiting for the falling of the storm, he hurried out of the court. The -judge hesitated. The judge was angry, but he saw that the trial was likely to be -long. He did not like interludes; and Mr. Woodyard escaped.</p> - -<p class="normal">Michael Burwash was then placed in the box, and deposed to all the facts -which had been proved by the other witnesses who had accompanied Mr. Tracy to -the tool-house on the night of the murder. He also stated that he had been sent -to ask Sandes for the key; and in addition to the evidence of the others, he -said he had seen the gentleman who was murdered cross a corner of the lawn a -little after five o'clock, on his way to the spot where the body was afterwards -found. The counsel for the defence did not cross-examine him upon any of the -points deposed to by others. They were wise men, and let well alone. The first -question the junior counsel asked was, "Pray, what did you say to Mr. Sandes -when you asked him for the key?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"I told him a man had been found murdered in the grounds, and master -did not wish to have the footmarks disturbed."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Nothing more?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"I might say a word or two more."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Out with it, young man; we must have the whole."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, I told him," said the witness, after having looked at the stern face of -the judge, and the impatient face of the leader for the prosecution, "that all -the servants thought that Mr. Acton had done it; and that he ought to go before -the coroner."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What made you and the servants think the head-gardener had done it?" asked -the barrister.</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Because he was in the grounds the last; and because we all thought -him so Eugene Aram like. He kept by himself, and talked Latin and all that."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"I am afraid we of the bar are in great danger of accusation of -murder. This is the best reason ever given for having the pleadings in English. -You say, witness, that Mr. Acton, or the prisoner at the bar, was the last -person in the grounds; how did the servants know that?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness, in a whimpering tone.--"I cannot tell."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"I must have some answer. Will you swear that you yourself did not -see some person in the grounds after you saw Mr. Roberts cross the lawn?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"No, I won't swear, because I did."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Who did you see; and when?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"I don't well know who it was; but about ten minutes after Mr. -Roberts went across, I saw some one come up the dark walk--I was shutting the -dining-room window-shutters at the time--and he went in by the door of the -green-house."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then is there away through the green-house or conservatory in the house?" -asked the counsel.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes; it leads into the hall on the left hand side," replied the witness.</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Now we must hear more of the person. Who was it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir ---- turned and looked towards the dock. Chandos was sitting with his arms -upon the bar, and his eyes buried on them.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not know--I cannot swear," replied the witness.</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Was it Mr. Tracy?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"No; it was a taller man than he."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Was it General Tracy?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No; not so stout by a good deal."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"In a word: was it the prisoner at the bar?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"No; he is a good deal taller than the gentleman I saw."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Was it a gentleman, then; or any of the servants?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"It looked like a gentleman's figure; but it was growing dark, and -he walked on very quick indeed. I could not clearly see who it was."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"I have done with you;" and he sat down with a look of satisfaction.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a murmur amongst the bar. The case for the prosecution seemed -breaking down. It was a result not at all expected, and the cross-examination by -the junior, who was a very young member of the profession, but blessed with -several eminent solicitors for relations, was looked upon as highly creditable. -None of the barristers were for a moment deceived. They all clearly saw and -understood that several of the witnesses had been perplexed and confounded; and -nothing had shaken their conviction of the guilt of Chandos Winslow till the -admission made by the last witness, that some one had been seen entering the -house of Mr. Tracy, in a hurried manner, and by a private and somewhat obscure -entrance, some ten minutes or quarter-of-an-hour after the murdered man had -passed across the lawn. It was, in truth, the first fact for the defence; and -legal acumen instantly detected that this was a verity of great importance. None -of the lawyers present, however, were ignorant of the great impression which the -admissions extracted from other witnesses might make upon a jury, if followed up -by any available line of defence; and they, therefore, as I have said, looked -upon the case as breaking down, under a pressure of doubts, all of which must be -favourable to the prisoner.</p> - -<p class="normal">There has seldom been a trial, however, in which the opinions of the most -acute and sensible men varied so often, under the different aspects which the -evidence gave to it at different times. Through the examination of the next -witness the same feeling prevailed, namely, that satisfactory proof would fail. -The person who succeeded Burwash in the witness-box was Henry Haldemand, the -constable of Northferry, who, after stating his rank, condition, and degree, -went on as follows:--</p> - -<p class="normal">"There were delivered to me, when I went down, on receiving Mr. Tracy's -message, several articles which had been found on the person of the deceased. I -here produce them. The first is a letter, marked No. 1."</p> - -<p class="normal">This was the letter which Chandos had written to Mr. Roberts on the night -preceding the murder, and it was ordered to be read aloud. As the reader has, -however, already perused it, it will not be necessary to reproduce it here. The -impression did not seem so great upon the court as the counsel for the -prosecution expected.</p> - -<p class="normal">The snuffling tone in which the letter was read detracted from the effect; -and it was generally regarded as merely showing that some sort of dispute might -have existed between the prisoner and the deceased, without by any means -establishing a sufficient motive for so great a crime. It gave an additional -shade of probability to the charge, but that was all. Other papers, marked Nos. -2 and 3, were produced; but the counsel for the prosecution thought they did not -bear upon the case, and they were consequently not read. The watch, the purse, -and the pocket-book, of course, threw no new light upon the matter, and only -occupied a few minutes more of the time of the court. The constable then went on -with his evidence in the following strain:--"Early on the morning of the sixth of -February I went to the spot where the dead body had been found; I took with me -Alfred Tims, shoemaker, of Northferry. We found a great many footmarks round the -spot where the deceased had been lying, so many, that we could make nothing of -them. One line of steps we traced from the spot to the haw-haw; they were very -distinct upon the turf; the heel was towards the haw-haw, the toe towards the -spot where the murder was committed. We found another line like it from the -fish-pond to the haw-haw; the heel was towards the fish-pond, the toe towards -the haw-haw. In the dry ditch beyond the hedge were several of the same -footmarks, and the hedge seemed to have been broken through. We measured the -footmarks exactly; there was but one line, either coming or going, made by a -right and left foot. After we had measured the marks, I went up to the cottage -of the head-gardener, from information I had received, and desired to measure -his shoes. He offered no opposition, and produced the pair he had worn on the -night before. They had not been cleaned; and it seemed to me that there was some -blood on the toe of the right shoe: I can't swear it was blood; but there was -certainly something red upon it. We took away the shoes with us, and went back -to the spot in the grounds. The shoes corresponded exactly with the marks to and -from the haw-haw, and with those in the dry ditch. In the latter we found one -very distinct print; there were some small nails in the outside edge of the -shoe, and marks corresponding on the ground. I afterwards went back to the -cottage of the prisoner, to examine his clothes; but found that he had gone down -to Northferry, and taken the clothes he had worn on the preceding night with -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">The cross-examination then commenced, and the counsel for the defence said, -"Two or three questions will be enough, witness. Are you aware why the prisoner -went down to Northferry and took his clothes with him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"To attend the coroner's inquest, I believe. I know he went there."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Voluntarily?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Yes, I believe so."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Pray did you measure the shoes of any one else besides those of the -prisoner?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"No, I did not."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Were you informed that one of the men who accompanied Mr. Tracy on -the night before had gone down to the haw-haw, to see if there was any one -concealed in the ditch?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"No, I never heard it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"That is a pity. I have done."</p> - -<p class="normal">Judge.--"Where are the clothes? for by the notes of the inquest they are -important."</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"They are in the hands of an officer of the rural police. I belong -to the parish of Northferry: it is not in the same county. Mr. Tracy's house is -in this county, but Northferry is not." All the counsel wrote rapid notes, -expecting, probably, some nice points of law.</p> - -<p class="normal">A sergeant of rural police was then called, who produced a fustian coat, upon -the arm of which was evidently a large stain of blood. It was on the inside of -the arm, just at the bend, and there was no mark upon the cuff. His evidence was -very short. "I took the prisoner into custody," he said, "after the coroner's -jury had returned their verdict: he had the coat I produce with him. I examined -his person: his hands were considerably torn and scratched, as if with thorns; -in his pocket there was five-and-thirty pounds six shillings, in gold and -silver, and also three letters, addressed to 'Chandos Winslow, Esq.' It was then -I first became aware of his real name. I had seen him more than once before; but -always thought his name was Acton. He gave no explanation whatever in regard to -the charge against him; but said, when we were in the chaise together, that the -coroner's jury had done very right; for the evidence was strong, although he was -perfectly innocent."</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness, in answer to the judge.--"The prisoner bore an exceedingly good -character in the neighbourhood, as a kind and humane young man. He saved a lad -from drowning--fetched him out from under the ice, where he had been sliding, and -never left him till the doctor had brought him to."</p> - -<p class="normal">This witness was not cross-examined; and the next witness that was called was -"Alice Humphreys." The poor old woman, who for the last three months had acted -as servant to Chandos Winslow, walked with anxious look and trembling steps into -the witness-box, and cast a scared glance round the court, passing over the -array of jurors and barristers, till at length it lighted on the prisoner's -dock, when she exclaimed, in simple sorrow, "Oh, dear, Sir! dear me! To think of -this!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos Winslow gave her a kind look; and the judge exclaimed, in a sharp -tone, "Attend to the business before you, witness."</p> - -<p class="normal">With a faltering voice, which called upon her many an injunction to speak -out, the poor old woman deposed as follows:--"I am servant to the prisoner, and -had kept house for him for about three months on the fifth of February last. He -had then been absent, by Mr. Tracy's leave, about a month, and he came back on -that day about half-past four. He seemed very gay and cheerful, and asked me a -great number of questions, which I do not recollect. I remember he asked about -the little boy, Tim, that is the gipsey woman's son, whom General Tracy took and -put to live with us. Mr. Acton asked why he was not there, and where he was; and -I told him the young ladies sent him every day to the day-school at Northferry. -He seemed to be in a hurry to go out again, however; and said he must take a -look round the grounds before it was dark; so that he did not much listen to me. -It was just five when he went out again. I know it was five, because the clock -went as he opened the door. He was gone about an hour, or a little better. The -boy, Tim, was late before he came home; he did not arrive till half-past five, -or more; and he usually came at a quarter before five. When I scolded him, he -said he had seen his mother in Northferry, and she had kept him; and he told me, -besides, he had seen a man asleep in the grounds."</p> - -<p class="normal">Judge.--"That cannot stand in evidence."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel for the prosecution.--"Very well, my lord: we will have the boy. Now, -my good woman, when did the prisoner return?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"He was away more than an hour, and it was quite dark when he came -back."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Describe his appearance."</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Why, Sir, he was as white as a sheet, and his hands were all over -blood. The little boy ran up to him directly; for Tim is very fond of him, as -well he maybe, for he's a kind, good gentleman as ever lived. But he said, 'Stay -a bit, Tim, I will come down again in a minute.' And then he went up stairs to -his room, which is just over the parlour; and presently after, as I was putting -out the tea-things, I heard some water thrown out of the window. When he came -down again, the blood was off his hands, and he had another coat on."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Did you observe anything particular in his manner or demeanour -during the evening?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"He was very sad, and astray like, all the time. He took the boy and -kept him by his knee, and asked him a great number of questions about his -learning, and heard him a part of his catechism. He said he had been a very good -boy, and if he always behaved well and did his duty, he would be a happy man; -but he kept falling into studies, as if he was thinking of something else; and -once or twice he got up and walked heavy up and down the room. He did not say -anything about what had made his hands bloody, nor take any notice of where he -had been."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Did you remark if his hands bled at all after he came down?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"No, Sir, I did not see them bleed. They seemed quite white, as they -always were: whiter than most gardeners' hands."</p> - -<p class="normal">In answer to other questions, she proceeded to state that the prisoner took a -Dutch hoe with him when he went out, and had none when he came back; that about -half-past ten he was called away to speak with Mr. Tracy, and then she heard of -the murder; that she went up to his room during his absence, to see if anything -wanted putting to rights, when she found his coat, all bloody on the sleeve, -thrown over a chair, and the marks of bloody hands upon the towel. "When he came -back," she deposed, "he seemed very sad, but not so astray-looking as before; -and he told her that the gentleman who had been murdered was a friend of his, -and that he should have to go down and give evidence before the coroner. He bade -me wake him, too, if he overslept himself," continued the witness; "for he said -he had walked a good way in the course of the day, and was very tired."</p> - -<p class="normal">Here ended the examination by the counsel for the prosecution; and a -momentary consultation was seen to take place between Sir ---- and his junior.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no; go on," said the great barrister; "no one could have done it better. -I am perfectly confident in your judgment."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But I am somewhat fatigued," said Mr. B----; "and as it is of so much -importance, I would rather you undertook it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very well; to relieve you, but for no other reason," said Sir ----, and he -rose to cross-examine the witness himself.</p> - -<p class="normal">"When I remind you, witness, he said, that you are upon your oath, it is -simply because I believe you to have a sincere affection for your master, as -every one has who has the honour and pleasure of knowing him; and I wish you to -understand that nothing can so well serve him as the plain, undisguised truth. -Give, therefore, clear and unhesitating answers to my questions, that the court, -convinced of your sincerity, may attach due weight to your testimony. Did the -prisoner, when he returned to his cottage, make any attempt to conceal the blood -upon his hands or coat?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh dear no, Sir," replied the witness; "he held his hands straight before -him, and came at once to the light."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"When you saw the coat, did it appear to you that any attempt had -been made to wash out the blood upon the arm."</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"No, Sir. There it was, plain enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Did you remark any scratches or wound upon his hands?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Yes, Sir, they were a good deal scratched, specially the left. -There was a good big tear in that."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Now, you say, he came in first about half-past four. How long did -he stay?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Some quarter of an hour or twenty minutes."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you say he went away at five," said the barristers; "how can that be?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The woman looked puzzled. "Why, I heard half-past four go just before he came -in, by the church clock; and clocks differ you know Sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"They do. You marked his coming by the church clock. Pray what clock -did you say struck when he went?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"No; it did not strike. It was the cuckoo that went."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"But does your cuckoo always sing right, my good woman?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Not always, Sir. It is a bit too fast at times."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"It is not worse than other cuckoos, I dare say. There are some of -them fast, some of them slow, like men's minds--</p> - - -<p style="margin-left: 15%; text-indent:-8px">''Tis with our judgments as our watches, none<br> -Go just alike, yet each believes his own.'</p> - - -<p class="continue">Can you give me any notion how much your cuckoo clock was usually before the -church clock? It differed, of course; but on the average--at its ordinary rate of -going?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Why it got on two or three minutes a-day; but I do not recollect -when I last put it back with my thumb."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 15%; text-indent:-8px">"'Ay, 'tis beyond the date of memory:<br> -Event upon event so oft hath trod,<br> -With quick recurring foot, 'tis hard to trace<br> -The worn-out print of Time's incessant step.'</p> - - -<p class="continue">But cannot you give me some idea of what day you usually put the cuckoo clock -back with your thumb? These things acquire a regularity by habit which is rarely -deviated from, especially in regard to clocks. Every man, woman, and child in -the kingdom who has a clock, watch, or other indicator of Time's progress, has -some particular day, or perhaps hour for winding up and putting it right. Can -you tell me what day you wound up your cuckoo clock, and whether you put it by -the church or not on that day?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"I always wound it up o' Saturday, at about eleven, when I had put -the pot on; and I generally set it to rights by the church, if I could hear it, -that we might not be late at service the next day."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"And if you did not set it on Saturday, did you ever meddle with it -during the week?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Not that I remember ever. I did the two jobs together; for I had to -get up upon the stool, which I was not over fond of, for the stool was old, and -I was old; and if we had tumbled we might both have gone to pieces."</p> - -<p class="normal">All the bar laughed heartily, and encouraged the good old woman amazingly: -but the great barrister did not forget his point.</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Am I to understand you, that if you did not set the clock on -Saturday, you did not set it during the week?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"No, never."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then can you tell me if you set it on the Saturday before the prisoner -returned?" asked the counsel.</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"I can't justly recollect."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Well, it got on two or three minutes a-day, you say; so if you did -set it on Saturday, the thirty-first of January, it would have got on from ten -to twelve minutes, at the least, and might have done so a quarter-of-an-hour, -before the evening of Thursday, the fifth; which would make your other -calculation right, that the prisoner returned about half-past four, by the -church clock, remained a quarter-of-an-hour or twenty minutes, and went away at -five by the cuckoo, or a quarter to five by the church."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is likely," said the witness; "I dare say our clock was a quarter too -fast--it generally was. It was quite light, I know, when he went away."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Then I won't trouble you with any more questions, Mrs. Humphreys; -and I am very much obliged to you for replying to those you have answered."</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Well, you are a civil gentleman, I do declare!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness re-examined.--"I am sure the clock went fast, not slow. I said I put -it back that we might not be too late at church, because when it was right we -were right, and if it were wrong we might trust to its being more wrong than it -was.--Well! you are a saucy one!--The other is a very civil gentleman. But I do -not see why you should take liberties with old women."</p> - -<p class="normal">A roar of laughter followed in the court; and the judge coughed sonorously.</p> - -<p class="normal">I should say that the merriest place on earth--I go no further--is a court of -justice during certain criminal trials. It seems as if the solemnity of the -scene, and the awfulness of the circumstances, brought out all that is risible -with extraordinary effect, as a black background throws out a bright figure. -Perhaps, few trials had ever excited more strong feelings than that which was -now proceeding. There stood the prisoner, whose life was at stake, an object of -admiration to many, of interest to all; in the prime of his youth and strength; -eminently handsome; richly endowed with powers of mind; of ancient lineage and -high name; connected with some of the noblest in the land; kind, generous, -high-spirited; with genius throned upon his brow and flashing from his eye: his -life hung upon a word; and yet, the whole court laughed at the silly simplicity -of a good but vulgar old woman--laughed cheerfully, as if there were nothing like -life and death in the world--laughed as if human suffering and human crime were -unknown in the place where they were met to inquire into the murder of one -fellow-creature, and to adjudge another, either to prolonged existence with all -its bright companionships, or to speedy death--the scaffold, the cord, the grave, -the worm!</p> - -<p class="normal">It was very horrible that laugh; and Chandos Winslow's brow grew dark, as if -they were sporting with his fate. He could not laugh--he could not join in their -heartless merriment. More than life was at stake for him--honour and good -name--ay, and perhaps love. Verily, we human beings are lighter than vanity; and -the lake of the spirits of men is rippled by the least of all possible breezes.</p> - -<p class="normal">The judge was the only one ashamed at his gravity being overset; and he -endeavoured to cover his merriment by saying in a stern tone. "Old woman--that is -to say, witness, you must respect the court. Was your clock right or wrong on -this identical evening, the fifth of February? That is the question."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I dare say it was not quite right," answered Mrs. Humphreys; "it seldom is -for two days together; but how far wrong it was on that day I cannot tell--may be -a quarter-of-an-hour, my lord."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is a very extraordinary thing," said the judge, "that they will have such -clocks in the country. Neither the clocks nor the rural police ever go right. -You may go down, witness."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Timothy Stanley" was now called; and something very small was seen making -its way resolutely through the court towards the witness-box. The persons near -stared at the child and drew back, treading on the toes of those behind; and one -of the officers of the court caught hold of him to administer the oath. But the -judge, who had a conscience, though it was peculiarly organized, shouted out: -"Stay, stay! That is an infant. Put him in the box for a moment before you swear -him. Give him something to stand upon;" and, adjusting his spectacles, he gazed -at the small intelligent features of the boy with interest and curiosity.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you know the nature of an oath, my little man?" asked the judge at -length.</p> - -<p class="normal">The boy remained silent for a few seconds; and then the voice of Chandos -Winslow was heard amidst the stillness of the court, saying aloud, "That he -does, my lord. I taught him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why does he not answer then?" demanded the judge.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because your language, my lord, is perhaps above his comprehension," replied -the prisoner. "He is here as a witness against me; but if you would permit me to -suggest, you would ask him first, What are the consequences of a lie?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Tell me, my little man," said the judge; "do you know what are the -consequences of a lie?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Disgrace and shame amongst men, and the anger of Almighty God," replied the -boy, readily.</p> - -<p class="normal">The judge wiped his spectacles; for something touched him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, if you would pardon me, my lord," said the prisoner, "you would -inquire, What are the consequences of calling upon God to witness a falsehood?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you know, boy," asked the judge, "what is the consequences of taking -God's name to a falsehood?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The loss of his protection for ever," said the little witness, "for the -greatest offence and insult to his truth and holiness."</p> - -<p class="normal">There were several eyes had tears in them, and the judge said, "Swear him--you -may swear him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I won't be sworn!" said Tim, stoutly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why not, boy?" demanded the judge.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because I won't say anything that may hurt him," rejoined the boy, pointing -to the dock.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was again a silence, and Tim stood resolutely in the witness-box with -his hands in his pockets, and his eyes fixed upon Chandos Winslow.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My dear boy," said the prisoner; "nothing you can say will hurt me if you -tell 'the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,' as they will put -the oath to you. But if you are silent, they will think you know something -against me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! that I don't," cried the boy, clasping his hands.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then take the oath, and tell the whole truth," said Chandos; "by so doing -you will do me more good than by any other course."</p> - -<p class="normal">The boy gazed in his face for an instant, and then said, "Well, I will, then; -for you always tell the truth; and I am sure you would not cheat me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not for the world," said the prisoner; and the oath was administered.</p> - -<p class="normal">The counsel for the prosecution hesitated for a moment or two, as if he -doubted whether the boy's testimony would produce the effect he desired; but -then he began the examination, touching but lightly on the point on which he had -laid most stress in his speech. He was a sagacious observer of an opponent's -proceedings, and he had already divined from the course of examination pursued, -that it was as much the object of the counsel for the defence to fix down the -commission of the crime to a certain period, as it had at first been his own. He -looked upon a criminal trial as a sort of game at chess, where there were -certain moves of necessity, but where it was expedient to vary his play -according to the skill and the moves of his adversary. The method in which he -conducted the examination produced the following evidence.</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"On the fifth of February I went from the cottage of Mr. Acton--the -prisoner--to the day-school at Northferry. I went about seven in the morning. I -came back to dinner at one, and returned to school at two. I left school at a -little past four. I met my mother at the corner of the lane, and went back with -her into the town. She bought me two penny buns at the shop, and we sat down and -talked in the marketplace while I ate them. She had been selling rabbit-skins to -the hatter. I do not know how she got them. She talked to me of a great many -things. She asked me if Mr. Acton had come home yet, and I said, 'No.' She said -he would be home soon, for she had seen him. She did not say when she had seen -him. She did not say whether that day or the day before. She only said she had -seen him. The church clock had just gone five a few minutes before; and I said, -'I must get home, mother, or Dame Humphreys will scold.' She kept me about five -minutes more, and then let me go. It was getting quite dark when I came to the -gates of the house--Mr. Tracy's house; and as they were open and it saved a good -bit I slipped in and down the walks, into the Lady's Walk. When I came into the -Lady's Walk it was a little lighter there, for there were no trees to the west; -and I saw some one lying upon the grass close to the fish-pond of gold and -silver fishes. I am sure it was a man, for I said to myself, 'There is one of -the fellows drunk.' He lay quite still, and I went up the walk and got over the -gate to the cottage. The prisoner was not there when I arrived. He did not come -in for more than half-an-hour. I ran up to him; but he said, 'Do not touch me, -Tim. Stay a bit, and I will be down in a minute.' I saw that his hands were all -bloody, and that there was a great mark of blood upon his arm. He went up stairs -and stayed some time; and when he came down he had on another coat, and his -hands were clean. He was very white when he came in. His face is not usually -white. He seemed heavy, but he heard me my catechism, and talked a good deal to -me till I went to bed. I thought he looked strange, different from what I had -ever seen him look before. Often while he was talking to me, he would begin to -think, and stop in what he was saying; and once he got up and walked up and down -the room. He was very strange till I went to bed."</p> - -<p class="normal">Here ended the boy's examination-in-chief; and it was remarked that the -counsel for the prosecution had not asked at what hour the witness had seen the -man lying in Mr. Tracy's grounds, nor at what hour the boy had reached the -cottage. Nevertheless, the impression produced by the witness's evidence was -strongly against the prisoner. The simplicity with which it was given, and the -evident bias of all his affections towards his friend and protector, when put in -contrast with the facts which he disclosed--the pale face--the agitated -demeanour--the moody thoughtfulness--the bloody hands--the stained garb, told -wonderfully upon the minds of the court and the jury. Nor did the -cross-examination remove this impression, though Sir ---- seemed perfectly -unaffected by it, and rose with as calm and confident an air as ever.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are a dear, good little fellow," he said, in a kindly and almost playful -tone; "and I wish to Heaven a great number of grown witnesses would take example -from the clear and straightforward manner in which such a child gives his -evidence. Pursue the same course, witness, and for my part, I will do nothing to -puzzle or confound you; I seek but the truth."</p> - -<p class="normal">Perhaps he took a little advantage of his high position at the bar, and the -respect in which he was universally held, to commence the cross-examination in -this discursive manner; but he then proceeded as follows. "You say that your -mother asked you if the prisoner had returned home, and told you that he would -do so soon, for that she had seen him. Can you recollect exactly at what time -that was?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"It was after five, for the clock had struck."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Did your mother leave you at any time after she first met you and -bought you the two buns you have mentioned?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Yes, she left me just the minute before she asked me that question: -and she told me to sit by the pump till she came back."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Did you yourself see the prisoner in the town while you were in -Northferry that evening?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"No, I did not; but I think mother did; she kept looking down the -street when she asked me."</p> - -<p class="normal">Judge.--"That will not do; that is not evidence."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Undoubtedly it is not, my lord; but I did not seek for it. Now, -witness, tell me at what hour, as near as possible, you left the town."</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"The quarter had not gone, but it must have been hard upon it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"And at what hour did you reach the gardener's cottage?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"I looked at the clock when I came in, and it wanted a quarter to -six; but then our clock is well-nigh a quarter too fast, and more of Friday -nights, for Dame Humphreys only sets it on Saturday morning."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then by that calculation," said the counsel, "it must have wanted -five-and-twenty minutes, or an half-hour to six when you got home. But tell me, -do you know the clock very accurately?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Yes, Mr. Acton taught me two months ago."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"And his kindness will safe his life. How long does it take you, -witness, to go from the gardener's cottage to Northferry? I am told the -distance, from Mr. Tracy's house to the village or town, is nearly two miles: -can you walk that distance in a quarter of an hour?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel for the prosecution.--"That is a leading question."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir ----. --"I only wish to make the whole clear to the jury. I am not seeking -to puzzle or to mislead; but it has been stated that the distance is nearly two -miles. The boy has said he walked it in nearly twenty minutes, and, without -pretending to disbelieve him, I wish him to explain, to reconcile the two facts, -which at first sight seem incompatible."</p> - -<p class="normal">Judge.--"I think the question may be put. If not put by counsel, I will put -it. The point must be made clear."</p> - -<p class="normal">The counsel for the defence then repeated the question.</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"I walked, and I ran a part of the way, because I was late; but the -distance is nothing like two miles by the fields. I never take more than twenty -minutes to go or come; and that time I went through the grounds, which saves a -good bit. I know Mr. Acton once walked there and back in half an hour, and -bought me a book too."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Thus the matter is easily explained. One can see, by the plan -submitted by the prosecution, that the high road to Northferry takes innumerable -turnings and windings. Can you give me any distinct idea, witness, of what -o'clock it was when you saw the body of a man lying by the fish-pond?--By -Northferry clock, I mean."</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"It must have been half-past five, as near as possible."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"You are sure it was not six?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"How could that be? When I got home it wanted a quarter to six by -our clock, and that is always a good bit too fast."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"You are sure it is never too slow?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Oh dear, no. If I were to go to school by it I should always be -there before any of the other boys."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"And you are sure the prisoner did not return for full half an hour -after your arrival?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"It was more than that--five or ten minutes more."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Did you see any scratches on his hands, making them bleed?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"No, I did not see any. His hands did not bleed at all after he came -down again."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"How long might he be absent when he went up to his room?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Some five or ten minutes, I dare say," said the boy.</p> - -<p class="normal">The counsel here sat down, and the boy was re-examined at some length by the -counsel for the prosecution, without eliciting any new fact, or causing him at -all to vary in his statements.</p> - -<p class="normal">Four or five other witnesses were examined to various minute facts, of no -great importance in themselves, but all bearing more or less upon the case.</p> - -<p class="normal">The exact distance from Mr. Tracy's house to the place where the murder was -committed, the proximity of the body, when found, to the temple over the -fish-pond, the extent of space between that building and the haw-haw, and the -distance thence to the gardener's house, were amongst the facts proved; and at -length the counsel for the prosecution declared his case closed.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was between four and five in the afternoon, and the judge, who for some -time had been showing symptoms of impatience, inquired of the prisoner's -counsels whether they thought they could conclude, that night.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The court is intensely hot," said the learned judge. "We have sat here from -an early hour in the morning; but I am most anxious that to-morrow should be -left free for the remaining business of the assize; and if sure of finishing -to-night, we would proceed with the trial, after taking some refreshment. I -would rather sit till midnight than not conclude to-day."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, my lord," replied Sir----, "I and my learned friend who is with me in the -cause, think that four or five hours would be quite enough for us; but if there -is to be a long reply, of course the business cannot be concluded to-night."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I cannot limit myself as to my reply," said Sergeant ----. "Having an -important duty to perform, and not knowing what will be the line of defence, I -can make no promise as to time; and I can see clearly that my reply cannot be -very short."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then the court will adjourn," said the judge, somewhat sulkily; and at the -same moment he rose to retire.</p> - -<p class="normal">Let it be remembered, that this day was marked in the calendar as the ninth -of the month; for dates may be important things even in a novel, and in this -instance a man's life hung upon the events of a single day.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXI.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">It was on the tenth of the month, in a very beautiful valley, between bare -hills, which, carrying their bold heads high above the rich cloak of vegetation -that clothed both sides of the dell, seemed to cool them in the calm blue sky. -Just above a waterfall, the same which has been before described, two large -irregular masses of stone, differing in size, but both enormous, reared -themselves up as gigantic door-posts, to the entrance of a small amphitheatre of -cliff, not less than two hundred feet in height. The one rock had somewhat the -appearance of a chair of colossal size, the other, fancy might shape into a -reading-desk; and thus, amongst the people of the neighbouring districts, the -former had acquired the name of "the Pope's Throne;" while the other was called -"the Puritan's Pulpit." Between them there was a narrow pass, of not more than -ten feet in width, and on either side was piled up a mound of loose shingly -fragments, forty or fifty feet high, with a tree or a shrub here and there, -where some vegetable earth had accumulated, forming a sort of natural wall, -which joined the rocky portal to the spurs of the amphitheatre of crag. At -several points, it is true, a man might easily climb over the mound, either to -enter or issue forth from the space within; but the only smooth way was between -the two great masses of stone, where was a carpeting of soft mountain-turf, with -not a blade of grass more than an inch long in anyplace, while in one appeared -the evident marks of often-treading feet, in a narrow line worn nearly bare.</p> - -<p class="normal">With his back leaning against the base of the Pope's Throne, and the sunshine -and shadow of a spring day chasing each other across his brow, was seated a -stout gipsey, of four or five and twenty. Half-way up the mound, on the right, -reclining upon the shingle, might be perceived another, somewhat older than the -former, in such a position that his eyes could rest from time to time, upon his -companion below. The mound on the left hand had also its man; but he could not -be seen from without the natural enclosure, for he had stationed himself just -over the top of the heap, obtaining a view into the little enclosure; and there -he sat from six o'clock in the morning until eight, with a number of green osier -twigs beside him, and a half-finished basket between his knees, at which he -worked away like on honest, industrious man.</p> - -<p class="normal">From within the circle, came forth at times the sounds of merry voices; and -at one period of the morning there curled up a quantity of light bluish smoke. -Shortly after, there trudged forth from the entrance an elderly man, with a pair -of bellows slung over his shoulders, and an old spoutless tin kettle in his -hand. Then all seemed quiet, and the man who had been making baskets, without -changing his position, changed his attitude, and suffered himself to drop -quietly back upon some mossy turf which had gathered round the root of a tree, -planted, Heaven knows how, amongst the stones.</p> - -<p class="normal">About half-past eight o'clock, the figure of a tall stout man appeared, close -beside the basket-maker. His step was slow and cautious; and the gipsey man did -not move. He was sound asleep. The other stood and looked at him for an instant, -with a look not altogether friendly: but the moment after he moved quietly on -again, passed behind the tree and began to climb the ridge of the mound, towards -the spur of the cliff. He took a step higher, and another, and another, with -great care and precaution, often looking back at the man he had passed, often -looking down into the little amphitheatre: but still he advanced steadily -towards a part where there was not a space of more than ten or twelve feet -between the summit of the cliff and the top of the shingly mound, with an -ash-tree waving its branches under the shelter of the bank. He was within -half-a-dozen paces of the top, when some of the loose stones giving way beneath -him, rolled down, and startled the sleeper from his slumbers.</p> - -<p class="normal">In an instant he was upon his feet. The next, he gazed up and gave a loud -shout. The scene of confusion that followed was wild and strange. From a number -of gipsey tents which had been pitched in the circle below, issued forth some -twenty or thirty persons, men, women, and children, all in a state of great -excitement, and all looking in the direction from which the shout had proceeded. -The basket-maker sprang up after the climber of the hill, half-a-dozen young men -followed from below; and one of the other watchers joined in what was evidently -a pursuit.</p> - -<p class="normal">But the fugitive had gained too much upon them; the shout warned him to -quicken his pace; in an instant he was under the ash-tree; and in another, by -the aid of its stout branches, he was at the top of the cliff. There he paused -for but one instant, then turned and hurried on. His departing figure lessened -rapidly to the eyes of those who followed him, and at length he disappeared.</p> - -<p class="normal">Three of the pursuers climbed up by the aid of the ash-tree, as he had done; -but as a fourth was mounting, he happened to turn his eyes below, and beheld the -object of the chase down in the valley, and in the act of crossing the river, -which rose to his arm-pits. By a bold manœuvre he had put the hounds at -fault, and by the time the men were called down from above, was out of sight.</p> - -<p class="normal">A short consultation was held amongst the tribe; and then they all quietly -returned to their usual habits. The women and the children betook themselves -again to their tents, the basket-maker came down and plied his trade more -wakefully below; the young man who had been sitting with his back against the -huge rock abandoned his post, and remained talking, within the little basin, to -another of the tribe; and his fellow-watcher on the outside, lay down at the -back of the encampment, and went to sleep.</p> - -<p class="normal">About five minutes after, coming at great speed, the gipsey woman, Sally -Stanley, approached the place from the lower part of the valley. There was -anxiety in her look, and she gazed eagerly over the two shingly mounds, as if in -search of what she did not see, and then with a step quickened almost to a run, -she entered the little amphitheatre of cliff, advancing straight to the youth -who had been stationed at the pass between the two rocks.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is he gone?" she asked, in breathless eagerness, "Is he gone?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, Sally; he is gone," replied the young man; "but it was not my fault, -for he--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Fault!" cried the woman, "it might be no one's fault; for what right have I -to command? what need have you to obey? But cursed be he who let him go; for he -has done a bad act; he has killed one who has always been kind to us; and the -blood of the gipsey's friend be upon his head;" and without waiting for reply, -she ran out of the circle of rock; and, with the speed of lightning, hurried -down the valley. Cutting off every angle, finding paths where none appeared, and -footing on places which a goat could hardly have trod, she darted on till she -reached the spot where, opening out with an ever-gentle descent to the plain, -the hill-valley was lost in other sweeps of the ground, and the common foot-path -entered into the cultivated grounds, taking its onward course between two close -hedges in the form of a lane. She looked upon the somewhat moist sand beneath -her feet with eagerness, and examined it carefully for several yards. Then, -murmuring to herself, "He has not passed!--he cannot have passed!" she placed -herself behind the decayed trunk of an old willow, and, waiting, watched with an -attentive ear.</p> - -<p class="normal">Two minutes had not elapsed when a step was heard; and then Lockwood was seen -coming along the lane at a rapid pace, with a thick newly-cut stick in his hand. -The woman instantly darted forth and threw herself before him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Get out of my way!" he said, in a stern tone, as soon as he saw her. "I am -angry, and I would not do anything unbecoming. You may have done mischief enough -already. Do not do more by making me forget myself."</p> - -<p class="normal">But she persevered in her attempts to stop him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am a woman, and alone;" she answered, "you would not do anything unmanly, -I am sure. But hear me, Lockwood," she continued, more vehemently; "hear me, and -I will tell you what you are going to do. You wish to save him, and you are -going to ruin him. If you set your foot in that court, he is lost. Nay, hear me! -hear me!" she repeated, as he strove to push his way past her; "you must, you -shall--for your own sake--for his sake--for my sake. I will beseech you--I will -kneel to you, to hear me but a few words;" and casting herself down before him, -she clasped his knees with her arms.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will not hear you," he answered, bitterly; "every moment is precious. You -have detained me shamefully two days, and there is nothing to be told me that I -could not tell you. I know all, girl--I know you, Susan Grey--I know your -motives--I know that you are fool enough still to love him who ruined, betrayed, -abandoned you--who left you to misery, starvation, and death, for aught he knew; -and I know that to save him from the punishment of his crimes, you would -sacrifice one who was kind and good to you, when there was none other to -befriend you. Let me go, girl! for I will pass!" and, forcing himself from her -grasp, he walked hastily onward towards S----.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh God! Oh God!" cried the woman, "he will destroy him he seeks to save!"</p> - -<p class="normal">This took place, let the reader remember, on the tenth of the month; the -second day of the trial of Chandos Winslow; and to that trial and the court in -which it was taking place, we must now return.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXII.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">In many cases the inhabitants of an assize town are very little affected by -what is taking place in their courts. They see lawyers flock in and juries -assemble, witnesses moving about in troops, and a rich crop of blue bags growing -up. But with the causes or the prisoners, they very little trouble their heads. -The host of the inn rubs his hands and rejoices: a heavy calendar to him is a -God-send. His waiters, probably increased in number, bustle about to feed those -classes which are proverbially ravenous; and the chamber-maids are in great -request. The pastrycook becomes a person of importance; the cookshop has its -share of business, and red tape and parchment rise in value; while the ladies of -the place think a good deal of the young barristers, and very little of those -whose causes brought them to the town.</p> - -<p class="normal">But there are occasions, on the contrary, when, either from the intrinsic -interest of the case, or from adventitious circumstances connected with it, the -people even of the town in which the trial takes place become almost universally -excited by what is occurring in the courts; and upon every turn of the trial as -it proceeds hangs a world of emotions in the bosoms of men only linked to the -transaction by the tie of sympathy.</p> - -<p class="normal">Such was the case in regard to the trial of Chandos Winslow. Not a -drawing-room, not a tea-table, not a chamber in a tavern, not even a coffee-room -did not hear discussed during the whole evening of the ninth the various events -which had taken place in the court-house during the day, while calculations were -formed, and even bets made, on the probable result of the trial. The prisoner -had become quite a hero of romance to all the youth and much of the age of the -place. He was so young, so handsome, so noble-looking, that the women of S---- of -course felt interest in his favour; and the men declared he bore it stoutly, -struck by his firm and calm demeanour, and his resolute and gallant bearing. -Nevertheless, at the close of the case for the prosecution, a very general -impression prevailed that he would be found guilty. So many startling facts had -been proved against him: his absence from his house precisely at the time of the -murder; the exact correspondence of his shoes with the footsteps to and from the -spot where the crime was committed; the bloody hands and coat; and the terribly -agitated demeanour which had been witnessed by the boy and the old woman on his -return, would almost have been enough for conviction, even without the terrible -and seemingly conclusive fact, that the fatal deed had evidently been committed -with the very hoe which he had carried out in his hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">Under such circumstances, the rush at the doors of the court-house on the -morning of the tenth was tremendous, and it was as much as the officers on duty -could do, aided by a strong body of police, to prevent the multitude from -crushing each other to death in the passages and in the very court itself. -Several of the magnates of the county were accommodated with seats on the bench -to hear the defence; and the voice of the judge himself was raised to its very -highest tones to suppress the disorder that occurred when the prisoner appeared -in the dock.</p> - -<p class="normal">Wearing anxiety will have its effect on every frame, and Chandos Winslow -looked paler and thinner than on the first day of the trial; but still the -magnificent head, the fine person, the tranquil and undaunted bearing, and the -firm, strong step had their effect upon those who beheld them, and the -impression was that though the jury might and would say "Guilty," the man was -innocent.</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir ---- every one remarked, was exceedingly pale; and before he rose he turned -over the papers under his hand several times, with a look of nervous anxiety; -but the moment he was upon his feet, that look passed away; he raised his head -high; he cast back his shoulders as if for full breath, and, fixing his fine and -speaking eyes upon the jury, began,</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord and gentlemen of the jury,--The learned sergeant who has conducted -the prosecution assured you that to do so was the most painful task of his life. -I doubt it not in the least; for it must be a terrible task indeed to become the -public accuser of such a man as the prisoner, with even a doubt upon the mind of -his guilt: and how many doubts must have existed in this case? If such were the -feelings of my learned friend, judge, gentlemen of the jury, what must be mine, -when, in rising to defend the prisoner at the bar, I know that upon my feeble -efforts depends not only the life of an innocent man, not only the life of one -who is an ornament to the society in which he moves, but the life and honour of -my dearest friend! With what anxieties must I be oppressed; how terrible must be -the responsibility when the slightest failure of my powers, the least oversight -on my part, any weakness, any indiscretion, may condemn to death one whom I love -as a brother--one whom I know to be innocent, as I have trust in God! I am no -paid advocate, retained to defend a bad cause; I am not a counsel doing merely -his professional duties: but I am a friend standing forth in defence of a -friend; an honest man raising his voice to save an innocent one. Terrible are -the difficulties which all these cases present: more than ordinary are the -difficulties in the present case; and all these are aggravated in an enormous -degree by the very feelings of friendship which exist between myself and the -prisoner, by the doubts and fears of myself, which make me tremble at my own -incompetence, by the zeal which perplexes, by the eagerness which confounds. The -burden would be too great, gentlemen of the jury; it would overwhelm me; but -happily there are circumstances which lighten the load. I see upon the bench one -of the most learned and clear-sighted of those judges who are an honour to the -nation to which they belong: I see in that box a body of Englishmen well -calculated by judgment and experience to distinguish between truth and -falsehood; between the factitious glozing of an artificial oratory, and the -simple eloquence of right and conviction: and I hold under my hand the means of -establishing, beyond all doubt, the innocence of my friend, if friendship do not -deprive me of reason, if enthusiasm do not paralyse my tongue.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will now, however, do my best to grapple with the case as presented to you -by my learned friend; and, doing him full justice for his high eloquence, -believing most sincerely that he has stated nothing but what he was instructed -was true, I will still venture to say, that a more terrible misrepresentation -was never made to an English jury. Now, in the very first instance my learned -friend asserted that the prisoner at the bar is of a sharp and vindictive -disposition; and he said that he should be able to show that such was the case. -Gentlemen, I will ask you, has he proved that fact? I will ask you if he has -made any attempt to prove it? I will ask you if his own witnesses have not -proved the exact reverse; if they have not shown that the prisoner is of a kind -and gentle disposition, winning the love and esteem of all around, high and low, -rich and poor? and, whether we see him teaching the uneducated child, saving the -drowning boy, or tending him in his after sickness, I will ask, if all that -<i>has</i> been proved does not excite admiration, and sympathy, and respect? Cast -from your minds, then, such unjustified and vague expressions: look upon his -general character as it is shown by the very evidence for the prosecution, -tender rather than sharp, benevolent instead of vindictive. But the insinuation, -gentlemen of the jury, has been made, though not supported; and it forces me to -establish the contrary by proofs. Something was said too, gentlemen, of a duel -between the prisoner and Viscount Overton, and a connexion must have instantly -established itself in the minds of the jury, between that duel and the sharp and -vindictive character ascribed to the prisoner. But, gentlemen, I will place that -honourable nobleman in the witness-box, to speak to the character of the -prisoner. He shall himself tell you what he thinks of the circumstances which -produced the duel; and you shall judge from facts, not from insinuations. All -this shall be triumphantly swept away, and I will not leave a vestige of such -charges against my friend. I will call the old servants of his father's house, I -will call the tenants, the parishioners, the neighbours. Their evidence need not -be long, but it will be conclusive to show that a more honourable, upright, -generous, kind-hearted man never existed; full of noble enthusiasms, gentle in -habits, benevolent in disposition, incapable of a base or a cruel action.</p> - -<p class="normal">"So much, gentlemen of the jury, for the first part of the charge: for the -general and vague insinuation, made for the purpose of preparing your minds to -regard the prisoner as a man of blood. But it seemed necessary to my learned -friend; and most necessary indeed it was to his case, to show some apparent -motive for the crime of which the prisoner is accused; and a letter has been -read in evidence to prove that there was some dispute between the prisoner and -the murdered man. That letter shall be fully explained before I have done; and -you shall see how ridiculously petty is the motive assigned for so great an -offence. But besides that letter, allusion was made to former disputes between -the unfortunate Mr. Roberts and the prisoner, which, though not proved, may have -had some influence upon your minds. I will show that no such disputes ever -existed; that the two were on the best and most kindly terms, that they had been -so through life; and that those causes of disgust which had induced the prisoner -to quit his brother's mansion were identical with the causes which induced Mr. -Roberts to give notice to Sir William Winslow that he was about to leave his -employment. In short, I will prove that Mr. Winslow and the man he is accused of -murdering, were acting on the most friendly terms together; and that the letter -which is supposed to prove that a dispute existed, was written in cold terms -merely as an authority to Mr. Roberts for disregarding any orders he might have -received from his employer to meddle with things in which that employer had no -right. It was, in short, a formal notice to him to respect the rights of the -prisoner, without any regard to the illegal directions of a third party. I shall -be able to prove that Mr. Roberts possessed the full confidence of Mr. Chandos -Winslow; that he was acting with due regard for Mr. Winslow's interests, and -that he had actually applied or intended to apply to that gentleman for an -authority or warning to respect, in his capacity of agent for Sir William -Winslow, the rights of him, the prisoner at the bar. Thus the pretence of motive -furnished by the letter which he, Mr. Roberts, had himself desired, falls -entirely to the ground, and leaves the accusation totally without foundation, -except such as a very doubtful train of circumstantial evidence can afford. Mr. -Roberts, in fact, was the only confidant of the prisoner at the bar, the only -person to whom he confided his address, when disgust at some injuries he -imagined he had received, and a desire to mingle as an equal with classes in -which he had long taken a deep interest as a superior, led him to quit his high -position in society, and accept the humble station of gardener to Mr. Arthur -Tracy, of Northferry. Was this, gentlemen of the jury, like long disputes and -acrimonious bickerings, ending in malevolence and murder? Is that the man to -entertain such passions?--to commit such an act?</p> - -<p class="normal">"But I will make no appeal to your feelings; I will address myself to your -judgment only. I will break through this chain of circumstantial evidence; I -will show that it cannot affect the prisoner, that it is not applicable to him. -I will proceed logically with my inferences; though it may be somewhat out of -the usual course. I will first convince you that the prisoner was not a man -likely to commit such a crime, by the testimony of many witnesses. I will next -prove that there was no earthly motive for his committing that crime; but every -motive for his not doing so: and, in the end, I will establish beyond all -question that it was impossible that he could have committed it. Before I -proceed to call my witnesses, however, it may be necessary to examine closely -the evidence already adduced, in order that we may separate the facts clearly -and distinctly proved from an immense mass of irrelevant matter. In so doing, I -shall not attempt to explain every fact and every circumstance; I shall not seek -to prove why the prisoner did this, or why he did that. To do so would occupy -unnecessarily the time and patience of the court. For, surely, if I establish -beyond all doubt, those three great points I have named--That the prisoner was -not a man likely by character, disposition, and previous conduct, to commit such -a crime; secondly, that he had no possible motive for committing it; but the -reverse: and thirdly, that if the testimony already given be not altogether -false, he could not have committed it, that will be quite sufficient for the -satisfaction of the court.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The evidence, gentlemen of the jury, divides itself into two principal -parts: that which relates to the death of Mr. Roberts: and that by which it is -attempted to connect his death with some act of the prisoner. The simple facts -regarding the death of the unhappy victim of some other man's bad passions are -clearly proved in evidence, by the various witnesses you have heard in their -examination and cross-examination. Their testimony has not been shaken in the -least; and I do not wish to shake it. In considering this evidence it is of the -utmost importance to the establishment of truth, that everything should be -precise; and I must therefore impress the facts upon your minds that you may -take them in conjunction with the evidence I shall myself offer, and from the -whole draw the only deduction which can logically be drawn: that it is -impossible the prisoner could have committed the act with which he is charged. -You have heard the testimony of James Wilson, the footman of Mr. Tracy, the last -person that we know of who spoke with Mr. Roberts, before the murder; with the -exception of Jones, the valet. This man stated at first, that Mr. Roberts called -about five o'clock; but afterwards admitted, on cross-examination, that it was -certainly ten minutes past five. It might have been more, but I am contented -with that. The witness Jones corroborated the testimony of James Wilson, and -fixed the time of Mr. Roberts's call at ten minutes or a quarter after five. -These statements are not shaken. It was at least ten minutes past five when the -murdered man was at Mr. Tracy's house. He stayed apparently a very short time -there; but we find from Wilson's evidence in answer to the court, that it would -take ten minutes more to go from the house to the spot where the murder was -committed. We will not assume that any time was lost on the road. It was, -therefore, at least twenty minutes after five before the criminal act was -perpetrated. My learned friend has attempted to fix the period of the murder. I -will try to do the same thing; but somewhat more accurately. The little boy, -Timothy Stanley, in evidence which, from its perspicuity, simplicity, and -truthful straightforwardness, you must all recollect, has shown that, at -half-past five o'clock the murder had been actually committed. I take the time -by Northferry clock to be the real time--at least it must be assumed to be so for -our purposes; and I may as well inform the jury, here, that I last night sent -off an express to Northferry to ascertain what difference, if any, exists -between the clock at Mr. Tracy's house and that of Northferry church. By this -man I shall prove that there is but one minute difference between the church -clock and that in the hall so often alluded to, although that clock has not been -set for one week, owing to Mr. Tracy's unfortunate absence. But I shall be in a -condition to prove that it was set every day at noon precisely, during that -gentleman's residence at Northferry, and set by the church clock. Thus it -appears by testimony, which has not at all been shaken, that the murder of Mr. -Roberts must have taken place between twenty minutes and half-an-hour after -five; that at ten minutes past five he was in Mr. Tracy's hall, and at half-past -five was seen murdered at the end of the grounds, the distance between the two -places being, I see by the plan, forty yards less than half-a-mile in a direct -line, and rather more than three quarters of a mile by the walks. The body was -not found till past ten o'clock, or more than four hours and a half after it was -seen by the boy. At this time it was quite cold and stiff. The surgeon has -proved that death was occasioned by an incised wound on the head, penetrating -the brain, of a kind which might be given by a Dutch hoe, and a Dutch hoe was -found on the ground near the body, with blood and gray hair upon it. There can -be little doubt that this hoe was the instrument by which the murderer -perpetrated his crime. That it was so, struck the prisoner at once, as you have -heard; and moreover that he acknowledged the hoe to be his, and said that he had -left it leaning against one of the pillars of the little temple over the -fish-pond. These are the admitted facts concerning the murder, of which there -can be no doubt.</p> - -<p class="normal">"We will now turn to the circumstantial evidence, by which it is attempted to -connect the prisoner with the crime. Now my learned friend has repeated to you -an old axiom of law that circumstantial evidence is often more convincing than -direct evidence; and he has reasoned ably upon that question. Nevertheless, the -numerous instances of awful injustice which have been committed in consequence -of giving too much weight to circumstantial evidence, has shaken the confidence -of many of the wisest and most learned men in the reasoning by which the axiom -is supported, and in the justice of the axiom itself. I need not call to your -mind a sad instance which occurred not many years ago in France, where an -amiable and excellent man, mayor of a great city, after submitting to the knife -of the guillotine, was proved to be perfectly innocent; and very many such -instances are on record; but I do believe that after the trial which now -occupies this court has come to its conclusion, all thinking men will regard -circumstantial evidence with much greater doubt than they have hitherto done, -and juries will pause ere they take upon themselves the frightful responsibility -of sending a fellow-creature to death while the shadow of a doubt remains. I say -that the result of this trial will show that too great a dependence on -circumstantial evidence may often betray wise and good men into acts which must -burden their consciences for all their remaining days. I wish to produce this -effect. I wish to put in the very strongest point of view, not only for the -present occasion, but for future instruction, the very fallible nature of -circumstantial evidence; and therefore in this instance I shall deal with it in -a peculiar manner. I will not attempt to struggle with it; I will not try to -shake it; I will not even descend to explain it. It shall stand in full force, -bearing against my client to the very last; but then I will prove that it is -utterly worthless, that it does not affect him even in the slightest degree; -that there is not even a possibility of his having committed the crime. I will -explain not one of all the circumstances that tell against him; and yet, without -quitting that box, you shall give a verdict of acquittal.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nevertheless, it will be necessary to examine the evidence, in order to -extract from it those facts which have a real bearing on the case, and which -fall into the line of defence. The rest I shall leave intact, without attempting -to weaken it in the slightest degree. The evidence by which it is attempted to -connect the prisoner with the crime, divides itself into three heads. One -portion is that which shows that he was proceeding towards the spot where the -dead body was found, nearly at the time when the murder must have been -committed. The second refers to the traces of the deed left by the murderer, or -supposed to have been left by him--the hoe with which the deed was done, the -steps to and from the haw-haw and in the ditch. The third, relates to the -demeanour and personal appearance of the prisoner after the murder had been -committed. Under the first head we find from the witness, William Sandes, that -he met the prisoner as he was going home from his work. The prisoner was going -down towards the scene of the tragedy. The witness at first asserted, that it -was about five o'clock when he met the prisoner, very naturally not wishing to -make it appear that he had quitted his work before the proper time. But in -cross-examination we got out of him, that he had on previous occasions left the -garden earlier than he ought to have done, and had been reprimanded by the -prisoner. He also admitted that it was broad daylight, and might be a quarter -before five. Thus the time at which Sandes met the prisoner was rather more than -half-an-hour before the murder could have been committed. I beg you to mark this -fact well, gentlemen of the jury, for it is important. Then we have the evidence -of the old woman, Humphries. She shows that he came into his cottage about -half-past four, on the day of the murder, and went out again exactly at five, by -a clock which is proved to have been on that night, from ten minutes to a -quarter-of-an-hour too fast, thus corroborating the statement on -cross-examination of the witness, Sandes. You will recollect, gentlemen of the -jury, that on the fifth of February the sun sets before five o'clock. The -witness, Sandes, says, that when he met the prisoner he does not think the sun -was down; that it was broad daylight. The good woman, Humphries, declares that -the prisoner went to take a look round the grounds before it was dark, all -showing that it must have been considerably before five o'clock when he went -out. Now, the murder could not have been committed before twenty minutes past -five. This is the evidence tending to show that the prisoner was in the grounds -and went towards the fatal spot some time before the crime was perpetrated. He -never denies, or has denied, that such was the case. He admitted it in -conversation with Mr. Tracy. He said he had been speaking to Miss Tracy within a -very few yards of the place where the body was found. And here I must remark -upon two circumstances well worthy of your consideration. First: that the -counsel for the prosecution have not thought fit to call Miss Tracy; but threw -upon us the burden of so doing. Now, Acton, the gardener, might have no -hesitation in calling that young lady; but, Mr. Chandos Winslow may have many -reasons for not subjecting one towards whom he entertains high respect--may I not -say affection?--to the torturing cross-examination of an adverse counsel. Suffice -it, gentlemen of the jury, that he refuses to call her; and, respecting his -motives, I have ventured to argue, but not to insist.--She should have been -called for the prosecution. The other important fact to which I must call your -particular attention is this, that although it is proved the prisoner was in the -grounds a short time before the murder, we have it in evidence that some one -else was in the grounds exactly at the time when the murder must have taken -place. Michael Burwash, has sworn, that some ten minutes or quarter-of-an-hour -after Mr. Roberts went to the place where he met his death, he saw some person -enter the house from that very direction, walking in a quick and hurried manner; -that he passed through the green-house instead of taking the usual entrance, as -if he desired to avoid observation. Who was it? The witness says it was not Mr. -Tracy, or General Tracy; and certainly not the prisoner at the bar. I do not -wish to throw any imputations; but the fact is proved, that there was some man, -not the prisoner, in the grounds at the very time the murder must have been -committed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now I come to the second head of evidence--the traces of the murderer's -progress. The hoe has been admitted to be the prisoner's by himself in this -court. More may be very safely admitted; namely, that he carried it out with him -in his hand, that he had it out with him when he met the witness, Sandes, and -that he rested it against one of the pillars while he spoke with Miss Tracy, -leaving it there when he went away. What more natural than to suppose, that the -murderer, seeing it there, snatched it up to effect his criminal design? The -footmarks in the grass, I not only deny to have been the prisoner's, but I must -say, that it is very nearly proved they were not. It is sworn that there were -but two lines, one coming and one going, between the haw-haw and the spot; and -it is admitted by the witness Taylor, that one of the men who accompanied Mr. -Tracy at night went from the place where the body was found to the haw-haw and -back. It is also shown that the ground was so soft as to receive the impression -of any foot that trod upon it. These steps then could not have been the -prisoner's; but servants, and constable, and all, seem to have made up their -mind that the prisoner was the murderer, and the shoes of no other person were -examined. Now, gentlemen of the jury, I will touch upon the third head of -evidence--the prisoner's appearance and demeanour after the murder. He returned -to his cottage, it is shown, somewhat after six o'clock, and I shall not in the -slightest degree attempt, as I told you I would not, to lessen the weight of -this evidence, nor even to explain the facts. I am precluded by his most -positive injunctions from doing so. I admit then that he returned in a state of -very considerable agitation; that he was annoyed, harassed, vexed; that there -was blood upon his hands and upon his coat, and I will give no explanation of -these facts. He forbids me to give the true one; and I will give no other. Were -there no means of establishing his innocence, this refusal of explanation might -create a reasonable doubt in your minds; but that doubt would be far from -justifying you in a verdict of guilty. Any one can conceive a thousand -circumstances which might have produced that agitation, and which might have -covered his hands and stained his coat with blood, but which the most honourable -motives would prevent him from explaining. The proof must always lie with the -other side; the prosecutor is bound to leave no reasonable doubt in your minds. -It is not enough to produce a doubt of the prisoner's innocence; and therefore -it is I say that though if no means existed of proving the prisoner to be not -guilty, this refusal of explanation might produce a suspicion that he was -guilty, yet that suspicion would be by no means sufficient to justify a verdict -against him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, gentlemen of the jury, I will not be satisfied with this. My friend -must quit that dock without a stain upon his character. It must be in his case -as in that of the famous Lord Cowper, who was tried in his youth for murder upon -evidence much stronger than any which has been adduced on this occasion, who -triumphed over a false accusation, left the court with honour unsullied, and -rose to the very highest rank in his profession, holding the first official -station in the realm beneath the crown. Nothing will content me but to see my -friend so acquitted; and therefore I will not plead the benefit of a doubt. -Nothing will content him but such an acquittal; and therefore he forbids me to -urge upon the court a fatal flaw which I have discovered in the indictment. But -I can ensure that acquittal; and before I have done, I will prove, upon evidence -unimpeachable, clear, distinct, and positive, that the prisoner was far distant -from the spot at the moment the crime was committed; that it was, in short, -physically impossible that he could have had any share in it. I will prove it, -by persons above all suspicion of collusion, without motive, without object of -favouring or assisting him. I will show, I say, not alone that the man round -whom such a long chain of circumstantial evidence has been entwined, did not -commit the crime with which he is charged; but that he could not have committed -it; and I will call upon you for such an immediate and unhesitating verdict as -will leave his name and honour clear of every imputation. Gentlemen of the jury, -there is a joyful task before you, after you have performed a long and arduous -one. Painful, yet mingled with satisfaction, have been the duties which I have -taken upon myself. At first the awful responsibility overwhelmed me; the anxiety -for my client, the apprehension for my friend, the sense of my own incompetence, -the tremendous stake in peril, seemed too much for my mind; but every step as I -have proceeded has strengthened my confidence and reinvigorated my resolution. -Knowing my friend's innocence, seeing the proofs of it accumulate, perceiving -that the case for the prosecution crumbled away under cross-examination, and -assured that without a word for the defence there was in reality no case to go -to a jury, I felt that my own weakness could not much affect the result, and -that his safely depended not on such feeble powers as mine. To God and to his -country he has appealed; to God and to his country I leave his fate, certain -that the one will defend, where my voice fails, the other do him justice, -whatever powers be arrayed against him."</p> - -<p class="normal">The tears rose in his eyes; his voice trembled and almost failed at the last -words; but those last words were as distinctly heard in the court as the most -powerful tones of the adverse counsel; for there was a dead silence, unbroken by -a breath.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">It is very difficult to say whether the change in the practice of our courts, -by which prisoners are allowed counsel for their defence, is a real advantage to -them or not. It is probable that in most cases the right of reply conceded to -the prosecution, and the loss of that assistance which the judge formerly -thought himself bound to afford the accused person, more than balances the -advantage of a practised defender. Indeed the privilege of reply on the part of -the public prosecutor seems a rank injustice. He brings the charge with all his -materials prepared; he is bound to establish all the facts clearly, and at once, -so as to leave no reasonable doubt. The prisoner replies by his counsel to an -accusation made; and if that reply is satisfactory to the jury, the trial should -end there, with the summing-up of the evidence, and the exposition of the law by -the judge. Can any equitable motive be shown for granting the accuser the last -word? I do not think it.</p> - -<p class="normal">The impression made by the speech of the counsel for the defence on the trial -of Chandos Winslow was very great. It carried the jury completely away with it; -and one of them whispered to another, that he did not think they need hear any -more evidence. It seemed to him that there was no case for the prosecution.</p> - -<p class="normal">The bar, who regarded it critically, praised it amongst themselves very much, -and took especial notice of the manner in which, as one of them expressed it, -"Sir ---- got lightly over the soft ground." They were not all sure of Chandos -Winslow's innocence; and during the greater part of the speech, they even -doubted whether the learned counsel would get a verdict, though they generally -agreed he ought. But at the end, when he so boldly declared that he could prove -an unexceptionable alibi, their opinions changed, for they knew he was not a -rash man, or one to risk the whole success of his case by a mode of defence the -slightest shade of suspicion attaching to which, would strengthen every -unfavourable impression regarding his client.</p> - -<p class="normal">The witnesses for the defence were called as soon as the speech was -concluded; and all the first were, contrary to general custom, those who could -speak to character only. Old servants, old friends of the family, tenants, and -neighbours were examined, and each testified with zeal and affection that the -prisoner was a man much more likely to save life than to take it. But it was -evident that the judge was impatient for the conclusion of the trial; and the -questions put for the defence were few and pertinent. A private memorandum found -amongst the papers of Mr. Roberts, was then put in and proved to be in his -handwriting by his executor, in which the deceased had thus expressed himself: -"Mem: to ask Mr. Chandos for some formal notification to respect his rights, and -protect them against others in case of need." A few witnesses then proved the -terms of affectionate regard on which the prisoner had always lived with his -father's steward; and then Lord Overton was called. The judge did not appear to -like his evidence being taken; but the counsel for the defence so shaped his -questions, that they could not be rejected, and the peer, in mild and dignified -terms, very different from his former rude and haughty manner, acknowledged that -he had been the aggressor in the quarrel between himself and Mr. Winslow; and -that in the whole transaction he had behaved like a gentleman and a man of -honour. It required some skill to hang this testimony on to the cause; but that -skill was evinced, and the evidence received. All this part of the business was -got over very rapidly; but it greatly damaged the case for the prosecution, so -much so, that the judge more than once looked to Sergeant ----, as if he were -inclined to ask whether they need proceed further.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length "Thomas Muggeridge" was called, and, to the surprise of Chandos, a -man in a plain livery got into the witness-box, and in answer to the questions -propounded to him, deposed as follows:--"I am servant to the Honourable and -Reverend Horace Fleming, Rector of Northferry. I know the prisoner at the bar by -sight. I have once spoken to him. I spoke to him on the night of the fifth of -February last. He called and inquired for my master about five o'clock. It might -be ten minutes after; for the sun was down. It could not be more; for it was -still quite light. I am quite sure of the man; for I had seen him in the streets -of Northferry before, and knew him to be Mr. Tracy's head-gardener. I went in -and told Mr. Fleming that Mr. Acton wanted to speak with him; and he told me to -show him in. When he had been with my master about ten minutes in the library, -Mr. Fleming rang, and ordered me to bring lights. The prisoner was then seated -on the opposite side of the table to my master. About five minutes after that, -my master and the prisoner came out together, and walked through the large rooms -which are unfurnished. They had alight with them. My master carried it. I ran to -open the doors, and at the same time I said to my master that the gipsey woman, -Sally Stanley, wanted to speak to him about her little boy. I had been talking -with her at the outer door. Mr. Fleming said he would see her in a few minutes; -and when I went back to tell her so, she asked me if I knew who that was talking -to my master. I said, 'Oh! quite well;' and she answered, 'No, you don't! That -is the son of the late Sir Harry Winslow.' After my master and the prisoner had -come out of the empty rooms, they went back into the library and remained there -till a quarter to six. The clock struck the quarter as the prisoner went out. He -stopped a minute or two at the door to say something to Mr. Fleming. He said, -'It is very unlucky, indeed; but it cannot be helped;' and then he talked a word -or two in a language I do not understand. It sounded like Latin; but I cannot -say. It was not French; for I have heard that talked. I have not the slightest -doubt that the prisoner is the man; I had seen him, half-a-dozen times before in -the streets of Northferry; and I had every opportunity of seeing him well that -night."</p> - -<p class="normal">The cross-examination then began by the counsel for the prosecution giving -the witness a long exhortation regarding the sanctity of an oath; he then -proceeded as follows:--</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"How long have you been in the service of the Rev. Mr. Fleming?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Six years, Sir."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"And how long had you been in Northferry when this event took -place?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"A little more than two months."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Then am I to understand that Mr. Fleming was newly appointed to the -rectory at Northferry?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"He had been there about five months at that time; but I remained at -the vicarage at Sandbourn for more than two months after he got Northferry."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Oh! he is a pluralist, is he? Will you swear that it was not -half-past five when the prisoner called?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Yes, I will; for at half-past five it is quite dark."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Will you swear it was not twenty-five minutes past?" asked the counsel.</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"Yes, Sir, I think I will, quite safely; for, as I told the other -gentleman, though the sun was just down, and it might be a little grayish, yet -there was plenty of light, and I could see across the street; for I remember -wondering what Higgins, the grocer, was doing with a barrel he was twisting -round before his door."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Now upon your oath, Sir, what time was it really when the prisoner -came?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"As near as I can guess, from five to ten minutes after five."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"And on what day did you say?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"On the fifth of February."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Do you happen to recollect some circumstances that took place at -your master's house on the morning of the first of that month?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness, rubbing his head.--"Not quite rightly, Sir. What circumstances do you -mean? I don't remember what day the first was."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Then how do you happen to remember so accurately all that took -place upon the fifth?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness, with a laugh.--"Oh, that is easily told. We came back to Sandbourn on -the sixth, and I had a precious quantity of packing up to do on the fifth; so I -recollect all about that day, well enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Now as to the time when the prisoner went away, are you quite sure -that it was not half-past five that struck?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Quite, Sir," answered the witness; "I heard the half-hour go while I was -talking with the gipsey woman, and the quarter to six just as my master and the -prisoner were walking from the library to the hall-door, which I had got open in -my hand. I counted three-quarters."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You can't struggle against that," growled the judge; and the witness was -suffered to go down.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The honourable and reverend Horace Fleming," was then called, and entered -the witness-box with a calm, firm step, and a look of placid dignity. "I know -the prisoner in the dock," he said, in answer to the counsel's questions. "I -never spoke with him but once, but have seen him several times in the grounds of -Mr. Tracy, of Northferry. I always believed his real name to be Acton, till the -night of the fifth of February, when I was told by my servant that he was the -son of the late Sir Harry Winslow. I recollect all the events of that night, -perfectly. I went into my library a little before five o'clock, to select some -sermons, as I was coming over to my vicarage at Sandbourn on the following day; -and about ten minutes after, my servant informed me that Mr. Tracy's -head-gardener wanted to speak to me. He was shown into the library by my orders, -and I asked him to sit down. I had heard from Mr. Tracy that he was a man of -extraordinary information for his station in life; and it did not therefore -surprise me to find him mingle very appositely quotations in Latin and Greek -with his conversation. At the same time, I will own, both his manner and the -request he came to make, seemed to me very strange. He was a good deal excited; -and, after apologizing in a hurried manner for taking a liberty, he said, a -friend of his--indeed, a relation--had been left, by Sir Harry Winslow, all the -books and a great number of the pictures at Winslow Abbey; together with the -large book cases, and a great deal of other furniture. Sir William Winslow, he -said, was behaving very ill about the whole business; and his friend was anxious -to have the various articles removed from Winslow Abbey at once, but had no -place to put them in. He then went on to explain to me, that having heard I had -several large apartments unfurnished in the rectory, he thought I might be -induced to give these articles house-room for a few weeks, till they could be -otherwise disposed of. I replied, that the rooms though large for a rectory, -were low pitched and difficult of access, so that it would be impossible to -place tall bookcases in them, whatever inclination I might have to render the -gentleman he mentioned any service. We went to look at the rooms, and he -acknowledged that what he had proposed could not be done. He stayed some little -time afterwards, conversing on various subjects; and I found him a man of very -extensive information, which decidedly induced me to believe that his original -station in life was not that which he assumed. He spoke with considerable -acerbity of Sir William Winslow; and although he affected a certain degree of -roughness of manner, probably to harmonize with his assumed character, it was -quite evident to me that he had received the education of a gentleman. I did -suspect him to be Mr. Winslow before our conversation was at an end; so much so, -indeed, that I asked him if he knew Sir William Winslow was at Northferry House. -He replied, Yes; but he should keep out of his way. He left me just as the clock -was striking a quarter to six. At the door, I expressed my sorrow that I could -not take care of the valuable things he seemed to consider in danger; and he -replied, 'It is very unfortunate, indeed; but it cannot be helped: Dominus -providebit.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"You say his manner was a good deal excited; pray, what do you mean -by that expression?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"I mean, hurried, hasty, impatient, agitated. Once he fell into a -reverie, which lasted two or three minutes."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Will you have the goodness to state, Mr. Fleming, with as much -precision as possible, at what hour the prisoner visited you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Silence!" cried the judge, in a voice of thunder. "What is all that noise at -the door?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"A man will force his way in, my lord;" said one of the officers, from the -other end of the court; "and there is not a bit of room."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Take him into custody," cried the judge.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He says, he wishes to give evidence for the prisoner, my lord," shouted the -officer; the noise and confusion still continuing.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He will be called if he is wanted," said the judge. "Take him into custody, -if he continues disorderly."</p> - -<p class="normal">The volunteer witness apparently did so; for there was a momentary scuffle at -the door, and then some one was removed by the officers.</p> - -<p class="normal">The question of the counsel was then repeated to Mr. Fleming; and he replied, -"To a minute I cannot exactly say; but it must have been somewhere between five -and a quarter past; for the clock upon my library table struck the quarter while -he was sitting with me."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Is that clock very accurate?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"It is set every day by that of the church; which is, I believe, a -very good clock."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Then it was before a quarter to five that he called at your door? -How long does it take you generally to walk from the Rectory to Northferry -House?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"From a quarter of an hour to twenty minutes by the fields; it would -take about half-an-hour by the road."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And you are quite certain that the prisoner left you at a quarter to six--not -before?" said the counsel.</p> - -<p class="normal">Witness.--"No, rather after; for the clock struck when we were in the passage, -and I spoke to him for a short time at the door."</p> - -<p class="normal">Counsel.--"Then, are you prepared to swear that the prisoner is the man who -was with you on that night, as you have described?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Fleming turned round his head and gazed for a moment or two at Chandos -Winslow, after which he replied, in a firm, clear voice, "I am. He is dressed -very differently on the present occasion; but I have not the slightest doubt."</p> - -<p class="normal">Judge.--"I will put it to the counsel for the prosecution whether they can -proceed any further after the evidence they have heard?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"My lord, I have done," said the counsel for the prosecution. "I am not in -the least prepared to invalidate the testimony of the reverend gentleman. His -character is above reproach; and I have nothing more to say."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Gentlemen of the jury," said the judge, "you have heard the evidence; but I -will sum up, if you think fit."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is not the slightest occasion, my lord," said the foreman of the jury. -"It would be only wasting your lordship's time, for we are all of one mind, and -have been so for the last half-hour. We therefore beg at once to return a -verdict of 'Not guilty.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">Loud acclamations followed the verdict which were with difficulty repressed; -but it was remarked that the face of the accused did not express the slightest -pleasure, and that Sir ---- leaned his arms upon the table and covered his eyes -with his hands, as if overpowered by deep emotion, or exhausted by his -exertions. He was in very bad health at the time; but not a member of the bar -had ever seen him give way before, and there was much marvelling. The judge -addressed a few words to the late prisoner, declaring that he quitted the court -with his honour unimpaired, and without a stain upon his name; but Chandos -Winslow only bowed with a grave and stately air, and seemed in no way to -participate in the satisfaction which his acquittal had produced in the court.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">"Sir ---- will be with you in ten minutes, Sir," said the landlord of the great -inn, the Green Dragon, at S----, addressing the liberated prisoner. "He has been -sent for by the judges. Dinner was ordered at six; but a message came to put it -off for half-an-hour."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos bowed his head, and the landlord withdrew, leaving him alone in the -sitting-room of the great barrister, who, as soon as the trial was over, had -sent him a note, begging him to dine with him. He took up a book. It was a -volume of celebrated trials. A page was turned down at that of Mr. Cowper, -afterwards Lord Cowper, for murder; and although we have seen the very sparing -use made of it by the counsel, every page was marked with thick marginal notes -in pencil, evidently freshly written. Chandos had not much time allowed him to -read; for a minute or two after he had opened the work he heard the voice of his -little solicitor, inquiring with quick reiteration, "Where is he? where is Mr. -Winslow? What number did you say?" and in another moment he was in the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My dear Sir," said the solicitor, shaking him warmly by the hand, "I -congratulate you a thousand times upon the result of the trial. It was a most -splendid defence--magnificent--unequalled,--our learned friend out-did himself. Did -you mark how he jumped over all the difficulties? how lightly he trod upon the -dangerous ground? Really it was a treat to hear him--the whole bar rings with it. -It is really worth undergoing a trial for such a defence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is at least some compensation for the pain of one, to find that I have -such a friend," replied Chandos. "I am waiting for him now with a heart full of -gratitude."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He may be a little while first," said the solicitor, with a very cunning -look, "he's about that little awkward affair; but it can make no difference -now--verdict given. In the meantime, I have just come to say a word or two upon -business, my dear Sir. You were considerate enough to give me a power of -attorney, and also to execute a deed in case of the worst, which, when you have -a moment's leisure, must all be rearranged, as the best, and not the worst has -happened. But in the meantime I have taken the most prompt measures to secure -the furniture, books, statues, pictures, and other chattels, left you under your -late worthy father's will. Now perhaps, as the fees and other expenses are -heavy--perhaps you would--as I understand you are going to London directly--give me -some little security in the shape of a lien upon said property for the amount of -costs. I have got a small document here merely a few words, which will answer -all the purposes, if you will look it over."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Certainly," answered Chandos Winslow, taking the paper out of his hand. "But -you will understand, my good Sir, that I intend to pay these costs from other -resources; and therefore you must assure me that you will not use this paper, -which, I see, gives you power to sell, unless I fail in discharging your account -within a reasonable time."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Undoubtedly, undoubtedly," cried the lawyer, "it is merely as a -security--nothing more, I can assure you--all shall be taken care of, and held -sacred as the great seal."</p> - -<p class="normal">"An inventory of all these effects," continued Chandos, "has been already -made by a friend of mine; and as it seems fair enough that you should have some -means of paying yourself, I will sign the paper upon the understanding I have -mentioned."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ah--oh--yes; here are pen and ink," said the solicitor: and the paper was -signed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thank you most sincerely, my dear Sir," said Chandos Winslow, "for the -interest you have taken, and the skill you have displayed in this sad affair. -But let me inquire what you meant just now? You spoke as if my friend, Sir ----, -was absent on business of mine, and as if I knew what that business is. Will you -have the goodness to explain?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, it is about that fellow who is so unfortunately like you," said the -lawyer, "the man whom Mr. Fleming and his servant must have mistaken for you. He -came to the door of the court just at the end, and wanted to force his way -in--did you not hear all the hubbub? But Dickins, the tipstaff, is a capital -fellow; and as soon as he had got authority, he took him into custody, and -walked him off. If he had got in, he would have spoiled the whole defence, and -played the devil."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos Winslow sunk down into his chair in horror and mortification. "And is -it possible," he exclaimed, "that the life of an innocent man can depend upon a -mere mistake of one person for another, and that in an English court of justice -too?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Quite possible, my dear Sir," replied the little lawyer, "when the party -accused will not explain suspicious circumstances. I am perfectly confident of -your innocence--always have been--all those who are well acquainted with you are -the same; and it seems that our leader knows it from the facts that you have -stated to him. Indeed, it was that carried him through; for if he had not been -perfectly sure, I do not think even he could have made such a defence. But I can -tell you, Mr. Winslow, that if that worthy had got into court when he tried, -you'd have had a verdict of 'guilty' against you; unless, indeed, Sir ---- had -some back card to play: which I think he had--always did think he had--and that -kept my courage up. Perhaps the real story would have popped out, if the alibi -had failed. However, there is no use thinking of these things now. We've got a -verdict: all's safe; and not all the judges in England can overset it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But there is something more to an honest man than merely getting a verdict," -said Chandos, gravely. "When it is known how the verdict has been obtained, what -will men think of me? How can I be satisfied with such an acquittal, obtained by -a gross and extraordinary error."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! in courts of justice, my dear Sir, it is very customary to combat error -by error. You were likely to be hanged by one fallacious train of evidence: we -have saved you by another. Error for error, that's all--rather odd, but very -satisfactory."</p> - -<p class="normal">"By no means satisfactory to me," replied Chandos Winslow.</p> - -<p class="normal">The little lawyer grinned as if a merry reply was rising to his lips; for to -win the cause was all he cared for; and the means seemed to him of very little -consequence. But his answer was cut short by the entrance of the great -barrister, who shook the late prisoner warmly by the hand, without, however, -venturing to congratulate him upon the result of the trial. The little solicitor -took his leave; and as soon as he was gone Sir ---- turned kindly to his friend, -and, taking him by the hand, he said, "I understand all that you feel, my dear -Winslow; but put your mind at ease. No one will doubt your innocence, although -we were obliged to take advantage of a good man's mistake to gain a verdict from -the jury."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is bitterly mortifying to me," answered Chandos Winslow; "to feel that I -have been acquitted solely by an error."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What could be done?" answered the barrister. "You prohibited me from using -the only legitimate means of defence; and, although the demolition of a great -part of the evidence against you by my young friend B----'s cross-examination, -taken with the fact of another person having been coming from the grounds at the -very time of the murder, might have raised a doubt in the minds of the jury, and -you might have obtained a verdict in your favour after long hesitation; yet the -suspicion which would then have attached to you, would have been very strong, -and very general. As it is, no doubt will rest with any one, but the two or -three who may have seen your friend Lockwood, and remarked the extraordinary -likeness between you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And yet that, my dear friend," replied Chandos, "will be enough to embitter -the whole of the rest of my life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do not suffer it to do so," answered his friend; "for the judge who tried -the case is quite convinced of your innocence: and I must now tell you, though -it may spoil your dinner, that suspicion has lighted on the right person."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How so?" answered Chandos, starting up. "I trust you have not mentioned any -of the facts."</p> - -<p class="normal">"They are all still under the seal of confession," replied the barrister, -with a smile; "but the circumstances are these. A person by the name of -Lockwood, who, it seems, is your half-brother, was taken into custody for -creating a disturbance at the door of the court. He mentioned some circumstances -to the constables, which were reported to the judge, who saw him in his room -after the rising of the court. The great likeness instantly struck his lordship. -He made inquiries which brought out the whole story of Lockwood's visit to Mr. -Fleming. I was immediately sent for, and had to submit to a veiled and courteous -reproach for the course I had thought fit to pursue. For a moment Lucifer had -nearly prevailed to make me treat his lordship somewhat cavalierly; for the -trial was over, and he had nothing to say to it; but thinking better of the -matter, I showed him that it was impossible for me to refuse evidence in your -favour voluntarily tendered; and, at the same time, I gave him my word of -honour, that I would not have pursued the course I did pursue, unless I had the -most positive certainty of your innocence, although circumstances which I was -not permitted to mention, prevented me from proving the real facts before the -jury. His lordship is very keen and quick in his combinations: he had Lockwood -in again while I was there, and asked him two or three questions, which elicited -the following facts: that your brother and Mr. Roberts were by no means upon -good terms, and that several sharp discussions had taken place between -them;--that Mr. Roberts had discovered, among some papers at Winslow Abbey, a -memorandum in your father's handwriting, to the effect that a will of a much -more recent date than the one proved had been given into your brother's hands -some time before Sir Harry's death; that Roberts knew the particulars of that -will, which were very favourable to yourself; and that he had gone over from -Winslow Abbey to Northferry House, in order to communicate the facts to you. -This, of course, was sufficient to show that you could have no earthly motive -for taking the poor man's life; but when Lockwood went on to state, that Sir -William at the very time of the murder was at Northferry House, his lordship -immediately connected that fact with the hasty return of some one from the -grounds through the green-house, and some strange circumstances which have got -abroad regarding your brother's marriage with Miss Tracy--with Miss Emily Tracy, -I mean," he added, seeing Chandos Winslow's face change as he spoke.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My brother's marriage with Miss Tracy!" exclaimed the latter; "I never heard -of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, yes," continued the barrister, "they were married--or half married; for I -believe the lady fainted in the midst of the ceremony; and a letter having been -suddenly given to your brother, he left his bride in the church and went abroad. -All these circumstances made out a case of suspicion in the judge's mind against -Sir William, which he strove cunningly enough to confirm by putting some -dexterous questions to me. I was as silent as the dead; and after some further -conversation he dismissed your friend Lockwood with a reprimand. Nevertheless, I -feel sure his lordship will hold some communication with the magistrates on the -subject; but do not believe they will be able to prove anything against your -brother without your evidence."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Which they will never have," replied Chandos Winslow.</p> - -<p class="normal">"But which they ought to have," replied the barrister, shaking his head; "and -now my good friend, I must run away, to cleanse my face and hands from the filth -of courts. I have invited two or three of the bar to meet you. After dinner, at -half-past nine, and at a quarter-past ten, I have two consultations. At eleven I -am off for London; and if you will take a place in my carriage, I will give you -a little advice by the way; for, from Lockwood's information, I think you would -have a good case for stopping the sale of Winslow Abbey."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must go over to Northferry first," replied Chandos; "but I will see you -when I come to town. I am afraid, however, it is too late to stop the sale."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh dear, no," replied his friend; "the only thing that is too late is my -toilet; for I hear the voice of our learned antagonist, inquiring for my rooms;" -and, running through the neighbouring door, he made his escape just as Sergeant ----- was announced.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was with no very pleasant feelings, it must be confessed, that Chandos -Winslow found himself tęte-ŕ-tęte with a man who had moved heaven and earth to -hang him, not more than four or five hours before. But whatever notion he had -previously formed of the worthy sergeant's demeanour in private life, from the -part he had borne in the trial, it was very speedily dissipated after he entered -unwigged and ungowned. The sergeant shook him heartily by the hand, -congratulated him with a very joyous laugh, upon the result of the trial, and -talked of the whole affair in which a fellow-creature's life had been at stake, -as if it had been a mere game at cards, where Sir ---- had held most trumps, and -won the rubber. Never was there a more jovial companion; and when they sat down -to dinner, after several other barristers had arrived, the sergeant laughed and -talked and cracked his jokes, and drank his champagne, till one of the -uninitiated might have thought a consultation with him, after the meal, an -expedient somewhat dangerous.</p> - -<p class="normal">The conversation during dinner principally turned upon snipe-shooting. There -was very little law; and the "feast of reason and the flow of soul" did not -afford the banquet the lawyers seemed most to delight in. Habit is very strong -in its power over the body; but, I think, even stronger with the mind. The most -vehement rivalries, the most mournful ceremonies, the most tragic scenes, aye, -even the most fatal events lose their great interest when they become habitual. -The statesman, the undertaker, the physician, the soldier can bear witness to -it, as they feast after the fierce debate, the solemn funeral, the painful -death-bed, or the battle-field. Nothing on earth ever makes twice the same -impression. How those lawyers laughed and talked, though two trials had taken -place since that of Chandos Winslow had terminated, and a woman had been -condemned to death, a man had been sent to expiate one half of a criminal life -by labouring during the rest in chains and exile!</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos felt benumbed by the heavy weight of the past, and not cheered by the -light emptiness of the present; so that he was glad when dinner was over, and -coffee drunk. The men of law betook themselves to earnest consultations, -reinvigorated by the temporary repose; for in reality and truth, during that -seeming revel, the giant minds had but been sleeping. It was rest that they -took: and happy are they who are enabled to cast off the burden of heavy -thought, the moment that it is no longer necessary to bear it.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos took leave of his friend for the time, and ordered a chaise for -Northferry; but while it was in preparation he issued forth to inquire in the -town for Lockwood. His search was vain, however. He found out the place where -his half-brother had dined, after being discharged from custody by the judge's -order; and he learned at the prison that he had been there to inquire after him; -but nothing more could he discover, and the demeanour of the people of whom he -inquired was not pleasant. They neither said nor did indeed anything that was -uncivil; but there was an instant look of intelligence wherever he presented -himself, which said, as plainly as a look can speak, "There is the man who was -tried for murder!" It was all very painful; and he returned to the inn, feeling -himself a marked man for the rest of life.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was a very painful feeling: it must ever be so; to know that his name -would never be mentioned without suspicion--that wherever he appeared the tale -would be told--the past spoken of. He fancied he saw the shrugged shoulder, the -significant smile, the doubtful look--that he heard the poisonous insinuation, -the affected tone of candour, and the half-veiled accusation. On his name there -was a stain, in his reputation a vulnerable point: every enemy could strike him -there--every false friend, every jealous rival could wound him, either with the -bold broad charge, or the keen and bitter sneer. He had been tried for murder! -It was a terrible fate; but it was irrevocable. The brand, he thought, was upon -him which no Lethe can wash out.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXV.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">The chaise rolled on rapidly in the darkness of the night. Chandos was -fatigued--exhausted--but he slept not. Weariness of mind often produces the same -effect as overfatigue of body, and refuses that rest which is needful for its -cure. His thoughts, too, were very busy. What was next to be done? What was the -course he was to pursue in life? A new chain was upon him, a fresh obstacle was -in his way. He had stood in the felon's dock accused of the highest crime known -to the law. What an impediment was that to all advancement! In what profession -would it not prove a barrier almost insuperable? And Rose Tracy, what would be -the effect upon her? He would not believe that it would change her; but yet, -though she might still love, though that consolation might be left him, how -could he expect that her father would either listen to his suit, or permit his -daughter to give even hope to a man marked out by such a record as that which -stood against his name? Even if he did, what chance, what prospect was there of -his ever being in a position to claim her hand?</p> - -<p class="normal">On such subjects rolled his thoughts, one following another, innumerable, -like the waves of an overflowing sea, while mile after mile of the way went by. -The night was dark and warm; one of those dull, sultry spring nights, when the -clouds seem to wrap the whole earth in a dull, damp pall, shutting out the -breath of heaven. The windows were all down, and Chandos gazed forth upon the -darkness, finding something therein congenial to the heavy obscurity of his own -fate, offering nothing to interrupt the gloomy current of his thoughts, yet -tranquillizing them with a solemn stillness.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mr. Tracy I must see," he thought; "for we have business to settle: and Rose -I will endeavour to see, that I may know, or at least guess at her feelings. But -I will not try to bind her to anything. It would be cruel--ungenerous. No, no; my -fate must be cleared of these dark clouds, before I dare ask her to walk forth -under the same sky as myself."</p> - -<p class="normal">And then he thought of leaving her--perhaps, of losing her--of never seeing -that fair face, that sweet smile again--of hearing that she was united to -another. And his heart was very bitter.</p> - -<p class="normal">On, on, rolled the chaise, as quick as the post-boy could induce the horses -to go. It was a long stage, a dark night, and a weary way back. He wished it was -over, and his boots off. They passed through Milltown, and rattled over -Longheath, then down they went into stony Langburn, and then slowly up the hill -again. When they got to the top, the horses were once more put into a brisk -pace, and away they went over the downs, with darkness all around them, and the -road hardly distinguishable from the turf. But still the post-boy kept upon his -way, knowing the ground by habit, in the night as well as in the day. At length -they went rapidly down the hill near the bottom of which stands the thirteenth -milestone from S----, and just as the chaise crossed the little rivulet which -winds on through the valley, Chandos felt a sudden jerk, and then a depression -of the vehicle. A grating sound followed, while the horses pulled on for a yard -or two, and then the chaise stopped. The post-boy got down and poked his head -under the carriage, swore a little, and approaching the door, told the traveller -that the axle was broken.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is bad news, indeed," said Chandos Winslow. "How far are we from an -inn?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"About three miles, Sir," replied the man; "but if you just go back to the -stone, and take the path to the right, it will save you half-a-mile. I must get -the horses out, and leave the shay here; but I'll put your portmanteau on the -off horse, and get it up that way."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But can I miss the road?" asked Chandos. "It is long since I was in this -part of the country."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lord bless you, Sir; you can't miss it, no how," rejoined the man; "it is as -straight as a line. You just go by the old, tumble-down mill, and then -half-a-mile further you come to the church, and then--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know, I know," answered the young gentleman; "I recollect it now;" and he -walked away, turning back for a moment to tell the driver to order him a fresh -chaise for Northferry, if he arrived first at the inn.</p> - -<p class="normal">The little path on which he had been directed rose gently from the place -where the milestone stood, to surmount the shoulder of the high range of hills -over which they had been passing for the last two miles; and it was plainly -marked out by the white, chalky staff of which it was composed, from the dark -hue of the short turf upon the downs. After Chandos had gone on for about the -distance of a mile, there seemed to be a glimmering amongst the clouds to the -east, and the objects around became more distinct. The moon was rising. Quarter -of a mile further, he caught sight of a mill, which he now remembered well; for -it had often served him as a sort of landmark in his youth, and was connected -with memories both very pleasant and very painful. It lay upon his right hand as -he went, and he knew that, from the high point on which it had been placed, to -catch all the winds, Elmsly, one of his father's seats, was just seven miles -distant by the hill paths, and Winslow Abbey, just eleven on the other side; -though the distance between them by the roads was twenty-four.</p> - -<p class="normal">He had not seen that mill, however, for many years; for unpleasant -associations had attached themselves to it of late, and overbalanced the -pleasant recollections of youth. As he now gazed on it, walking on, the sight, -as it stood out from the sky, which was of a pale gray, with the moon's light -amongst the clouds, did not cheer him; and the long, thin arms of the rotting -sails called back to his mind the description which Lockwood had given of it.</p> - -<p class="normal">From the point where the mill was passed by the path, the latter descended -towards the little town where Chandos expected to get horses; but ere it reached -that bourne, the road he was following had a labyrinth of lanes and hedges to go -through. Before it came to that more cultivated part, however, it ran some way -along at the bottom of the bare hills amongst some green pasture-ground with the -downs on the right and the hedgerows on the left. Just in the midst on this -track stood a little detached church, called St. Mildred's, with a tall conical -spire, somewhat dilapidated, and a little churchyard, within a ruined -stone-wall. Though the faint moon through the veil of cloud did not afford much -light below the edge of the hill, yet the spot where the church stood was marked -out by its spire rising over everything else around, and by the numerous black -yew-trees in its garden of graves. Chandos saw it some time before he reached -it, and the sight of it too was sad to him. Yet when he was opposite the rude -gate; with its cross-beam over-head, he stopped to gaze at the old church and -its dark funeral trees; and that sensation which sometimes comes salutary over -us, of the nothingness of human joys and sorrows, stole upon him as he asked -himself, where were the hands that raised the building--where those who planted -the trees--where the many generations that had passed since the one arose, the -others sprang up. As he paused--it was but an instant--he thought he heard a low -moan, as of some one in distress. It was repeated, and came from the churchyard; -and, opening the gate, he went in. The moans led him on nearly to the back of -the church, which stood detached, with no other building near; but presently -they ceased, and he looked around over the waves of graves, and their little -head-stones, without seeing any one. He felt certain that the sounds had -proceeded from a spot not far distant; and, raising his voice, he asked, "Is any -one there? Does any one want help?"</p> - -<p class="normal">There was no answer; and, after stopping for a moment, Chandos walked a step -or two further; and then, looking a little to the left, he thought he saw -something like a human form stretched out upon one of the little grassy mounds. -He approached quietly, and looked down upon it, perceiving that he had not -deceived himself. It was the form of a woman, lying with her face downwards upon -a grave evidently not newly made. She was living, for her breath came thick, and -laden with sobs; and Chandos asked in a kindly tone, "What is the matter, my -good woman? Can I do anything to assist you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">At the sound of his voice, the woman started up, exclaiming, "You!--You here? -Oh, fiend!"--But then she suddenly stopped, gazed at his tall figure in the dim -light, and then added, "Ah! is it you, Sir? I did not know you: I thought it was -another." And she sat herself down upon the adjoining grave, and covered her -eyes with her hands.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Surely I know your voice," said Chandos. "Are you not the gipsey woman, -Sally Stanley, the little boy's mother?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"You know my voice better than I know yours, it seems," replied the woman; -"for yours deceived me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But what are you doing here, my poor woman?" inquired Chandos. "You seem in -great distress, on some account. Come, leave this place; it can do no good to -you, or any one, to remain weeping over a grave at midnight."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Every year of my life, at this day, and this hour, Chandos Winslow," replied -the woman, "I come here to weep and pray over those I murdered."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Murdered!" exclaimed her companion. "But it is nonsense, my good woman; your -brain is wandering."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I know it is," answered Sally Stanley; "I need no one to tell me that. It -does wander often, and sometimes long; but on this night it wanders always. I -said 'murdered,' did I not? Well, I said true. I did murder him; but not as your -brother murdered Roberts, the steward, with one blow, that ended at once all -pain and resistance--slowly, slowly, I murdered him--by grief, and shame, and -care, and despair; aye, and want too had its share at last."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good God! then who are you?" demanded Chandos Winslow.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ask me no questions," answered the woman. "Ever since those days a fire -comes into my brain, from time to time, that nothing will put out till it burns -out of itself; and I see more than other people, know more--I see the dead, -alive; and I behold the unborn deeds before they are committed; and the hand of -God is upon me. Ever on this night--the night when the old man died of sorrow, I -am at the worst; for then it is that my heart is given up to the hell of its own -making, and I come here to cool my brain and my bosom upon the green grass of -his grave. Disturb me not; but go, and leave me. I can have no help of man."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, poor thing!" said Chandos Winslow, "I cannot, in truth, leave you in -such sorrow and in such a place, without trying to give you some consolation. -You have said you come here to pray. Do you not know then, that, whatever be -your offences, there is pardon and comfort for all who pray in faith and with -repentance?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Aye; but we must all bear our punishment, nevertheless," replied the woman. -"Do not try to console me, young man. If you would needs stay, (and it is better -that you should, for I have wanted much to see you, and have much to say to -you,) sit down on the church step there for a while, till this hour is past, and -I will tell you things you want to hear. But do not try to console me. God may -give me consolation at his own time. Man can never."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos was eager to get to his journey's end; but yet he felt real -compassion for the poor woman, and a strong reluctance to leave her there alone. -He thought that if he remained for a while, and humoured her sorrow, she might -be the sooner induced to quit the spot; and he determined to sit down on the -church steps, as she had said, and wait the result. Such as I have said were his -strongest motives for remaining; but at the same time a doubt, a suspicion of -the truth, to which he would hardly give a moment's attention, crossed his mind; -and then her strange words regarding his brother and the steward awakened still -stronger curiosity, and made him almost believe that there had been other -witnesses, besides himself, to the crime for which he had so lately been tried.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I will wait, then," he said; and, retiring from the spot, he seated -himself at a distance, and gave himself up to thought. There is nought so -variable as the influence of thought upon our appreciation of the passing of -time. Sometimes it seems to extend the minutes into hours, the hours into months -and years. Sometimes thought seems to swallow up time, and leave nought in -existence but itself. The latter was more the case with Chandos Winslow than the -former. The church clock struck one shortly after he sat down. It struck two -before he fancied that the hand had half paced round the dial, and a minute or -two after the woman was by his side.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have waited patiently," she said, "and I will try and repay you. I -longed to see you as soon as I heard that it was all done, and you were free. I -owe you much; but you owe the gipsey woman something, Chandos Winslow; for, had -it not been for me, they would have found you guilty."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" said the young gentleman; "but how is that, Sally Stanley?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did not the parson bear witness that you had been with him that night?--aye, -and his servant too?" she asked. "Well, I found out that they had mistaken -Lockwood for you, and had mistaken me in what I told them; and I went over to -Sandbourne, and first told the good young man of what they accused you, and that -he ought to go and give evidence at the trial. He was for setting out directly; -but I let him know that the inquest was over, and that he could do no good till -the trial, and bade him keep himself quiet till then. Lockwood would have -spoiled it all," she added, in a rambling manner; "but I took care of Lockwood -too, and kept him close till it was too late for him to do any harm. He had -nearly done it though, they tell me. He is a harsh man, Lockwood."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But he has a good, kind heart," replied Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He does not mind treading on other people's hearts," she answered, leaning -her head upon her hand, and seating herself upon one of the lower steps. "But -whither are you going now, Sir? This is not the road to London."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am going to Northferry, Sally," replied Chandos. "I must see Mr. Tracy, -and your poor little boy. The dear child gave his evidence nobly; but I find -Mrs. Humphreys took him away out of the town as soon as the trial was over."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Aye, he little knew whom he was giving evidence against," said the woman, in -a wild way; "but they tell me he behaved well."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You seem to have got intelligence of everything very soon," said Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Sooner than anybody else," answered Sally Stanley; "we always do. You -Englishmen may try what you like--coaches, and railroads, and telegraphs; but the -gipsies will always have the news before you. There were many of our people -there, and I soon had the tidings. But what do you want at Northferry? The boy -is there, but he will do well enough without you; and as to Mr. Tracy, you will -not find him. He is far enough away with all his. Have you not heard all that -has happened?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," answered Chandos; "I thought he was there. Has he gone to London?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"They have taken him to London," answered the woman; "but I will try and tell -you all about it, if my brain will let me. You know that he ruined himself with -buying what are called shares; and that, to save himself from the first shock, -he sold his child--his Lilly, as he used to call her--to a murderer--a murderer of -old men. He thought, that by selling the best of his shares he would be able to -stave off the rest of the sums he owed; and that the Northferry property would, -at all events, be saved for his own daughter, as it would become her -husband's--the murderer's. I told her how it would be long before. Then the other -girl, I suppose, was to be provided for by the old General.--I only tell you what -the people say. Well, let me see, where was I? All the shares were to be sold; -but the shares could not be found; for a lawyer-man--a rogue, called Scriptolemus -Bond, had run away and carried them all with him. So Mr. Tracy was arrested, you -see, and taken to London; and his brother and the two girls went up the morning -after."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Good Heaven! did he really trust that man?" cried Chandos. "His looks, his -words, almost his gestures spoke him a charlatan. I heard him boast he had a -commission to buy shares for Mr. Tracy; but I doubted the very fact, because he -said it; and never believed that he could be trusted to a large amount by a man -not wanting in good sense."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Everyman is a fool in some points, and every woman a fool in one," answered -Sally Stanley. "But I have nothing to do with his folly or his wisdom.--What is -it to me? However, he wanted to make his riches more; and then every man goes -mad. He trusted a knave, and the knave ran off with the plunder. So Mr. Tracy is -in prison, or something like it, and the knave is free."</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is sad--this is very sad," said Chandos. "Is there no trace of this -villain, who has brought a kind and generous family from affluence to beggary?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! he will go at large like other villains," replied the woman. "The world -is full of them, and they sit in high places. It is very strange that all men -take so much interest, and feel so much compassion for a rich man that falls -into poverty; while a world more misery may come upon a humble household without -drawing a tear beyond the four walls of their own cottage."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is some truth in what you say," replied her companion, thoughtfully; -"but yet, the fall from high to low is deeper than from low to lower: the -contrast more painful. I should think, too, that you would much regret this -misfortune to Mr. Tracy's family, as thousands of others, in a far inferior -position to himself, in point of fortune, will mourn over it. Can you tell me a -family who were more kind to all around them? Can you tell me a rich man whose -wealth was more liberally shared with the poor and needy? Was any man suffered -to want in his neighbourhood, if Mr. Tracy or his daughters could relieve him? -Did any child lack education in his neighbourhood from the parents' poverty? Was -he harsh even to those for whom the laws are harsh? Even your own child: did not -these two young ladies, who now, perhaps, are weeping over their own and their -father's ruin, show themselves kind, and tender, and generous to him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am wrong, I am wrong, Chandos Winslow," cried the woman; "but something -makes me bitter this night. I am not myself, young man, I tell you. You must -come and speak with me another day, and perhaps I can do something. The man you -speak of is a good man, and should be saved. Let us try to save him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But how can that be done?" asked Chandos, sadly. "He is already ruined, it -would seem."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no; no one is ruined who has not broken a father's heart, and laid him -in the grave," replied Sally Stanley: "that is ruin! that is ruin! It is ruin -here--and here;" and she laid her hand upon her brow, and upon her heart. "But -you will come and see me, and talk to me again, and see what can be done to save -him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, what can you do in a matter like this?" asked her young companion.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Did I not help to save your life?" she demanded, quickly. "I may do -something in this too--come back and I will tell you more. I must have time to -think. To-night I have no thoughts. Will you come?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But where shall I find you, and when?" asked Chandos. "Your abode, I fancy, -is always varying; and I might seek you over the whole country without -discovering you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come in a fortnight to the place where we met three months ago, when you -were going on a scheme that all the wise ones and the great ones would have -thought madness," was the woman's reply. "You recollect the place in the lanes -above Northferry: come there. I knew not at that time what drove you out of that -fine house at Elmsly, and made you put on a gardener's coat, and take service -like a hireling. I thought it was the Jacob and Laban story; and that you were -going to serve for a fair wife; but I know more now. And a sweet, good girl she -is, too. Her gay heart will be dull enough now, I dare say, poor thing; but you -must go and comfort her."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where am I to find her? is the question," answered Chandos. "But, doubtless, -I shall hear from the servants at Northferry."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The servants!" cried the woman, with a laugh: "there are no servants there. -The house is shut up. Half the servants are discharged; and the rest are gone -with the old General and his nieces to London. But I will tell you where to find -them. He has a house in a place they call Green-street though it is as brown as -all the rest of the den. Go there, and ask for them, and you will find some of -them, at least."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you mean that Mr. Tracy has a house in Green-street?" asked Chandos. "Or -are you still speaking of the General?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of the General, to be sure," replied the woman. "It is a small, narrow -house, fit for a solitary man. I was there once, and the old soldier, his -servant, was kind to me, because I talked to him of Northferry, and the places -round. He is not a bad man, General Tracy, as men go--better than most; and I -think he will keep his word with the boy, whatever be his concern for his -brother."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You may be quite certain he will," replied her companion. "General Tracy is -a man of honour, and never breaks his word."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What! not to a woman?" demanded Sally Stanley, with a mocking laugh. "Well, -go up to him, and see. Put him in mind of the boy; and tell him for me, that -mice sometimes help lions, as the old fable-book says that I read at school. -Then come down to me this day fortnight; and perhaps I may tell you more--I do -not say that I will--I do not say that I can; but yet I have seen more unlikely -things. Do you know anything of your brother?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nothing," replied Chandos, "but that he has gone to the continent--whither, I -know not."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He has taken a bad heart and a heavy conscience with him," said the woman. -"But you must learn where he has gone; for some day you will have to claim your -own at his hands. He will not always triumph in his wickedness. A day of -retribution will come."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I trust he is not so wicked as you seem to think," answered Chandos Winslow; -"and, at all events, I pray, if he have done wrong, as doubtless he has in some -things, that repentance rather than retribution may reach him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If he has done wrong!" cried the woman, vehemently. "Chandos Winslow, do you -not know that there is upon him a load of crime that may well weigh him down to -perdition? I know not what you saw on that dark fifth of February; but there -were those who saw you with a dead man's head upon your arm, mourning over -him--there were those who saw that dead man walking alive with your own brother -five minutes before; and fierce were the looks and sharp the words between them. -Our people never go into your courts to bear witness for or against you; but -there were words spoken and overheard that night which would have taken the -charge from you and placed it where it ought to be, had those words been told -again before the judge. There were words spoken which shall not be forgotten, -and which may yet rise up and bear fruit that he wots not of."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos Winslow laid his hand gently on her arm. "Vengeance," he said, "is a -terrible passion. It is possible my brother may have injured you in times long -past. I think it must be so, from much that you have said. But if so, I beseech -you, seek not in anyway to injure him; for in so doing, you would but render -yourself more wretched than you tell me you are. You too may have done wrong--you -too may have brought unhappiness on others. Forgive, if you would be forgiven. I -think I know you now; and if I do, it explains much that was doubtful regarding -one for whom and for whose wrongs I have deeply grieved, believing her dead full -eight years ago. My brother has, I have reason to believe, wronged me too; but -if he has, I have forgiven him; and you may see that it is so when you recollect -that even to save my own life I would not endanger his."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And have you grieved for me, Chandos Winslow?" said the woman. "I knew you -pitied me; but I thought not the bold, brave boy would long think of her he -sought to see righted. I found sympathy and kindness with those who saved my -life, and I became one of them; but I thought all the rest of the world had -forgotten me. And you grieved for me! God's blessing be upon you for it; be you -blest in your love, and in your fortune, and in your children; be you blessed in -health of body and of heart; be your age tranquil and your death calm. But, -hark! There are people calling. What can they want? It is not any of our people. -They know themselves better than to make such a noise."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is most likely some of the people from the inn seeking me," replied -Chandos. "I sent on the post-boy with orders to have a chaise ready for -Northferry; and I am so late, they may think me lost, or murdered."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Go then, go quick," cried the woman; "do not let them come hither: and -forget not in a fortnight to return."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will remember," answered Chandos; and bidding her adieu in a kindly tone, -he left the churchyard.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was as he thought. The people of the inn had become alarmed at his long -absence, and had sent out to seek him. He gave no account of his detention, -however, when he met the messengers, but merely said he had stopped a while by -the way.</p> - -<p class="normal">On his arrival at the inn, he found the chaise he had ordered at the door, -ready to carry him to Northferry; but a change had come over his purpose. He -paused, indeed, and meditated for a moment or two, asking himself if he could -depend upon the woman's information, and considering whether it might not be -better to proceed as he had at first proposed. But he speedily concluded in -favour of the more impetuous course; and, ordering the ticket to be changed, and -the chaise to drive towards London, gave occasion for some marvel on the part of -the landlord, at what the worthy host thought fit to call "the gentleman's queer -ways."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">There is a nice little country inn at Mantes, on the Seine. The rooms are -plain and small, but neat; and those three which were at the end of the -corridor, that is to say, a sitting-room and two bed-rooms, were occupied by an -English gentleman and his valet de chambre. The English gentleman's name -appeared in his passport as Mr. Somers; but the valet when he was dressing him -in the morning, or serving him at dinner, which he did not trust to the waiters -of the inn, called him "Sir William." This valet was an Italian, but he spoke -English perfectly well; and nothing but his complexion and a very slight foreign -accent betrayed that he was not a native of Great Britain. He was a quiet, -exceedingly quiet man, with none of the vivacity of the South about him; saying -very little to any one, but that little of the civilest possible character. Yet -there was that in his eye which seemed to say the spirit was not quite as -tranquil as the body--a sharp, quick glance when anything was said, be the -subject what it might; a flush when he was blamed, which supplied the place of -words. He had been brought over by Sir William (then Mr.) Winslow, from Rome, -three or four years before; and had remained with him ever since. His -fellow-servants loved him not; and it had been observed, that if any of them -ventured to offend him, that man did not remain long in Sir William's service.</p> - -<p class="normal">Now the people of the inn remarked two or three thing which they thought -somewhat strange in their guest. He very seldom went out in the middle of the -day, although the weather was by no means yet so warm as to render the early -mornings and late evenings pleasant, or the high noon unpleasant. He seemed very -restless, too, when he was in the house, would walk up and down the room by the -hour together, or wander from his bed-room to his sitting-room and back, with -unmeaning activity. Then he never read anything but a newspaper: but he was an -Englishman, and that passed. He frequented no cafe either; and did not even go -to see the three great ostriches when they were exhibited in the marketplace. -All this seemed very strange; but the valet held his tongue, and neither -landlord, nor landlady, nor head-waiter could make anything of it. They could -not find out even whether he had lost his wife or not; though such was the -landlady's opinion, for he was dressed in deep mourning. The head-waiter had -vague notions of his having stolen silver spoons, and being uneasy in his mind.</p> - -<p class="normal">One morning he had either passed a very good or a very bad night, for he rose -before it was light; and as soon as it was, went and walked upon the bank of the -river. At a little after seven he came in again, hurried up stairs, called -loudly for Benini, his valet, did not find him, and went into his bed-room to -conclude his toilet, which was only half finished when he went out. At the end -of half-an-hour he was in his sitting-room, and found the cloth laid for -breakfast. He rang, and his servant appeared.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Have you got the letters and newspapers, Benini?" asked Sir William.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, Sir," replied the man.</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William gave him a fierce oath, and a bad name, and asked him why the -devil he had not, when he knew that his master was so anxious to see the result -of that cursed trial.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Because the post never comes in till after eight, Sir William," answered the -man calmly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Sometimes sooner, sometimes later," replied his master; "you should have -gone to see when you knew I was impatient for news. Go directly, and do not let -me find you grow negligent, or, by--! I will send you packing back to your -beggarly country a great deal faster than you came out of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">The gleam came up in the man's eyes; but he answered nothing, and went -quietly to the post-office.</p> - -<p class="normal">In five minutes he came back again, without either letters or newspapers. The -post from Paris had not come in. Sir William ordered breakfast, and told him to -go again, and wait till he could bring the packets. The man went, and was absent -an hour. Either he or the post had resolved to punish Sir William's impatience. -It might be either; for assuredly there is a perversity about fate in regard to -letters, which makes those most desired tarry by the way, those least longed for -come quick and unexpected. When he did come he brought several letters and two -newspapers; but it was the latter which were first opened. The first and second -pages of the voluminous sheet were passed over unread, and part of the third; -but then Sir William's eye fastened upon the tall column, and with a straining -gaze he went on to read the defence in the case of the crown against Chandos -Winslow. Rapidly he ran the whole over, and his face lighted up with joy. His -name had never been mentioned; the defence was an alibi; his brother had him not -in his power. Chandos could not pretend to have witnessed anything when he had -proved that he was far from the spot; and Sir William started up with joy and -relief, saying aloud, "This is excellent!" Then seeing the eye of the valet -coldly fixed upon him, he added, "You will be glad to hear, Benini, that my -brother is acquitted. He has shown that he was at a distance when the murder was -committed, by the evidence of Mr. Fleming and his servant--perfectly -unimpeachable--and I have no longer the dread of having my name coupled with that -of a felon, in such near relationship. I shall go back to England directly: so -get ready, and order horses at eleven."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am very glad to hear such news, indeed, Sir William," said the Italian; "I -knew Mr. Winslow was not guilty."</p> - -<p class="normal">The words struck his master, and raised a momentary fear. "I knew Mr. Winslow -was not guilty!" he repeated to himself, when the man had retired. "How could he -know? Pooh! it was only his foreign way of speaking! Now, dear Emily, in a few -short hours you shall be mine!" and he proceeded to read the letters he had -received. The two first he merely glanced at; the third he read attentively. -"Ha!" he cried; "Mr. Tracy arrested! It is lucky the mortgage is perfect. The -man, Bond, run away with all the shares; and this fair, cold Emily a beggar! It -matters not. By Heaven! with such charms as hers, she has wealth beyond the -Indies. That swelling bosom, that proud, pouting lip, those glorious limbs, are -worth a diadem. Aye! and the liquid eyes, too, were they not so cold! I will put -fire into those dark orbs, give me but time! We can surely have the horses by -ten."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was no difficulty; the post had little to do in the spring of the year; -the carriage was soon ready, the horses too, the town of Mantes left behind; -Rouen, Dieppe, reached, and then the town of Brighton. It looked gay and -cheerful, with all its lights lighted, and its population in motion, on a fine -spring night, and the broad ocean rolling dark and heavy along the shore. The -fly was ordered to the York, and Sir William Winslow walked into the nice rooms -ready for him, thinking still of Emily Tracy. Every man's mind is a web of which -one fixed and predominant idea forms the woof, while other threads cross and -recross it. With him the intense and vehement passion for the fair girl whom he -could hardly call his bride, was the foundation of all his thoughts, as soon as -the apprehension springing from present peril of death and disgrace was removed. -That passion had been quelled and kept down for a time; but, like a fire upon -which a load of cold and heavy matter has been thrown, it burst forth again with -more vehement flame than ever, the moment it made its way through. Remorse -chequered it; vague, indefinite fears wove strange figures in the web: but still -the eager passion ran through all. When he felt himself on English ground again, -a certain degree of trepidation seized him; and he remained in his handsome -sitting-room at the York, dull and heavy for sometime. His dinner at first would -not down, and it needed several glasses of Madeira and a pint of champagne to -help him through the meal. But then he grew quite gay again, and went out to -take a stroll in the town. He went into a library, and took share in a raffle, -and came back to set off early the next morning for London. His mood was gay and -happy, though an occasional touch of gloom crossed it; but at all events it -seemed to encourage his valet to ask him for his quarter's wages, which were not -due for four or five days. The baronet, however, paid the money readily, and -that appeared to encourage the man still further.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I hope, Sir William," he said; "you will consider the difference between -wages here and in Italy, and will make a small advance in mine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, you damned vagabond," cried his master; "I give you half as much again -as most English gentlemen give their servants."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thought, Sir, considering the circumstances," replied the valet; "you -might be pleased to allow me a little advance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Considering the circumstances!" cried his master. "I know not what -circumstances you mean; but depend upon it you will not have a penny more from -me."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man bowed without reply; but in a minute or two he re-entered with one of -his master's morning coats over his arm. The right sleeve was turned inside out, -and he said, "Please, Sir William, what am I to do with this coat. There are two -or three spirts of blood upon it, which it had fresh when you dressed for dinner -on the fifth of February. I have got them out of the cloth, but the water has -soaked them through into the lining."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow's face grew as pale as death, and then flushed again, as -he saw the man's cool, clear, dark eye fixed upon it. For an instant he did not -reply; but then he said, "I remember, my nose bled several times in the spring. -It does not matter; leave it as it is."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man folded it up, and laid it on a chair; and the next morning, before -they set off for town, his master himself began upon the subject of wages. -Benini was very moderate in his views; but before the conversation was ended his -wages were nearly doubled.</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow seated himself in his carriage, with the comfortable -feeling, that the man who had such wages would be a fool to deprive himself of -such a master; but he recollected that he had played the fool too--at least he -thought so. "I ought to have told the whole story at once," he said to himself. -"The man insulted me, and I struck him with the first thing at hand--harder than -I intended; but after all it was but a scuffle. If I had had the presence of -mind to state the facts at once, the inquest must have brought it in <i>chance -medley</i>." He forgot that juries sometimes inquire into motives too, and might -have asked whether the insult Mr. Roberts offered was not the telling of too -dangerous a truth. With the servant silenced, however, by an annuity for -secrecy, he thought the only grounds even for a suspicion buried in oblivion; -but nevertheless there came across him a vague conviction, that he was for life -a bondman to his own valet.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was but the beginning of unpleasant sensations; but that was enough. Man -is a strange animal; but there is an inherent love of freedom in his heart which -is often the source of very high and noble actions--sometimes of actions the -reverse of high and noble. The lightest chain upon the once free limb, how it -galls and presses! but what is the shackle of steel upon the body, to the chain -upon the mind? To find the spirit a serf, the thoughts manacled! that is to be a -slave indeed. No custom can lighten the load of those fetters, no habit render -them less corroding, nought can harden us to their endurance. On the contrary, -every hour, every minute that we bear them, the burden grows more oppressive; -and Sir William Winslow felt it, as his carriage rolled on, and he groaned in -bitterness of spirit.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">Small progress is made in post-chaises across country at night. On the public -high road it may do very well. One may go from London to York as fast as Turpin, -even without a railroad; but from county town A to county town B, you had better -wait for daylight. So did Chandos Winslow find it; and it was broad day when he -reached the fine old town of Salisbury. As he got out of the chaise, he inquired -if there were not a coach to the railroad. The answer was, that it had gone by -ten minutes. There was another three hours after; but the waiter informed him, -that the light coach, the Hero, direct to London, set out for town in an hour, -and beat the rail by an hour and a half; (the landlord was a proprietor of the -Hero;) and upon this assurance being reiterated from various quarters, Chandos, -though not very fond of heros, determined to try this specimen of the class, as -he thought it very likely that the promised enterprise would be achieved. His -finances, also, were not in a nourishing condition. For the first time in life -he was obliged to calculate shillings: the Hero was a far cheaper conveyance -than the railroad and coach combined; and after having ordered and obtained some -breakfast, he got upon the top of the stage, and was driven away on the road to -London.</p> - -<p class="normal">The number of passengers was very scanty; but some one had monopolized the -box; and Chandos was obliged to take up his position on the roof, with a stout -countryman on one side, a grazier by trade, who was full of the famous cause -which had just come off, as he termed it, at S----. Chandos certainly gave him no -encouragement; but when bottles are filled too full they will run over; and his -entertainment for the next twenty miles was his own trial for felony. He had the -satisfaction, however, of finding a stout partisan in the good grazier, who -declared that he had been sure from the first the young gentleman was innocent; -for didn't he pay the fine two years before for Matthew Green, the farmer's son, -who was brought up for killing some pheasants upon his father's farm? The -reasoning did not seem quite conclusive to Chandos, even in his own defence; but -he knew that he was not guilty of murder, and was glad to find that a good -action could live a day beyond its date.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was dark when the coach rolled into London, for it was not heroic as to -time; and the crowded streets, the blaze of gas-lamps, the illuminated shops -with their wide crystal fronts, and the multitudes pouring hither and thither, -each busy with his particular selfishness, had a strange effect upon one who, -for so many days preceding, had been engrossed with the weighing of his own life -and death in the mere chance-balance of a court of justice. If there were any in -all the masses of human mites he saw who had ever heard of him, it was but as -the prisoner in the felon's dock; and by this time they had forgotten, and -thought of him no more.</p> - -<p class="normal">His own case had, in his eyes, seemed of immense importance not many hours -before. It had connected itself, in his imagination, with the general -administration of justice: it seemed to affect millions in its chances and -results. But now, in the midst of that wide ocean of life, and feelings, and -interests, all separate, all alone, yet all connected with each other, it lost -its magnitude, and seemed small and insignificant in the diversified infinite -around. "Birch, pastry-cook;" "Gobble, mercer;" "Walker, fish-monger;" what was -the trial of Chandos Winslow to them? A tart, a yard of silk, a red mullet, was -of much more importance to each. And what more did care any of the many who -rushed past like ripples on a quick stream? Verily there is truth in the saying, -that the greatest solitude is in multitudes; for there each man raises a thorny -hedge of selfishness around him, which excludes every other human being except -the few for whom he will be pleased to open the wicket.</p> - -<p class="normal">On arriving at the dull-looking inn where the coach stopped, the young -wanderer paid his fare, sought a bed-room, removed the dusty garments in which -he had travelled, and set out for the other end of the town. As he passed -through some small, quiet squares of smoked brick houses, and escaped from the -pressure of the multitude, Chandos, for the first time, began to ask himself, -what was the object of his visit, and what the excuse he was to make for so -speedy an appearance at General Tracy's house. He went to see Rose Tracy--to hear -of her, if not to see her. But what could he say when he did see her? How was he -to act towards her?--how towards her uncle and her father? Though Mr. Tracy might -be ruined, yet Emily and Rose were the co-heiresses of their uncle, a man of -ample fortune; and Chandos could not shut his ears to the question, Was he--just -tried for murder, and acquitted on evidence which must soon be proved to have -been given in error--he whose pittance, originally so small, had been further -diminished by an expensive trial--was he in a position to ask the hand or seek -the promise of one of General Tracy's nieces? He found it difficult to answer. -Then he inquired what he should assign as his motive for following the family at -once to London; and he thought of many things, but at length determined to trust -to chance, as, perhaps, was the wisest plan.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ah! that chapter of accidents, with its manifold pages, how often do its -magic spells relieve poor mortals from their greatest difficulties! What wonders -has it not done for every man! Which man amongst us, if he were to look back -through life with sane and scrutinizing eyes, would not find that far more than -one-half of all his successes--far more than one-half of all his reverses--far -more than one-half of all that has befallen him in life, is attributable to that -broad chapter of accidents, and not to his own efforts, his own errors, or his -own fore-thought.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos Winslow walked up Green-street, at length; and then the question -became, which is General Tracy's house? He fixed upon one, and rang the -right-hand bell. An unknown and powdered servant appeared, and informed him very -civilly, (for Chandos Winslow's appearance was not easily to be mistaken for -anything but that of a gentleman,) that the house was Lord ----'s; but he added -the information that was wanted. General Tracy's abode, he said, was about ten -doors further up, nearer to the Park: the gentleman would see a small -brass-plate upon the door. Chandos soon found the door and the brass-plate, and -as that house still possessed a knocker, he knocked. The door was opened by the -General's old servant, who had been with him at Northferry; and the man almost -started, certainly gazed with wonder, when he saw the well-known face which -presented itself. He was an elderly man, whose wits when they once got into that -state which I must call "stirred-up," did not easily settle again; and in his -ideas regarding Chandos Winslow, there was some confusion. In his eyes Chandos -was, according to the happy figure of a celebrated lady, "three gentlemen in -one;" namely, Acton, the gardener, Sir William Winslow's brother, and the -prisoner upon trial for the murder of Mr. Roberts; and there was in the man's -air and manner a mixture of all the expressions which those three personages -were severally calculated to call up--there was familiarity, there was respect, -there was consternation.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lord, Mr. Acton!" he exclaimed, "is that you? Well, I am very glad to see -you, Sir; Lord 'a mercy! only to think!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is General Tracy, at home?" asked Chandos, in a somewhat agitated tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, Sir," replied the man; "he has gone with Mr. Tracy to a meeting of the -lawyers; but the young ladies are upstairs, and I am sure they will be glad to -see you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pray, tell them I am here," said Chandos: and the man went up to the -drawing-room accordingly. In a minute after, he came half-way down, and, looking -over, desired Chandos to walk up. With a quick step he did so, and was ushered -into the drawing-room, where he found those two beautiful girls, both somewhat -pale, and both somewhat agitated. Emily remained upon the sofa; but Rose, with -her lip quivering, and tears in her eyes, advanced to meet him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, I am so glad to see you," she said, holding out her hand. "This is very -kind of you, indeed, to come so soon."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos could not refrain; he pressed his lips upon the hand she gave him; -and then turned his eyes for a moment to the face of Emily, to see if the act -surprised her. She only smiled kindly. Chandos saw at once from her eyes, that -the two sisters trusted each other; and a restraint was at once removed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am very happy, indeed, to see you, Mr. Winslow," said Emily; "for till -this morning we have been sadly anxious about you; and poor Rose nearly ill with -apprehension."</p> - -<p class="normal">She too gave him her hand, as she spoke; but Chandos did not kiss it. Yet -Emily was quite satisfied.</p> - -<p class="normal">It would be difficult to detail what followed; for it was but a confused -crowd of questions and answers, in all of which appeared the deep interest which -the parties took in each other.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos found that they were already acquainted with all the details of the -trial; for the whole family had devoured rather than read the report, which had -appeared in the evening papers. They spoke not of the particulars, indeed; and, -with them, Chandos was not inclined, to dwell upon the subject; but it was -evident and gratifying to him, that not one of all Mr. Tracy's family had felt a -doubt of his innocence. Yet whenever the matter was named, the conversation -became strange and vague; so much so, indeed, that had any person unacquainted -with them been a witness of what passed, he might have supposed, had it not been -for the warmth of manner displayed, that a suspicion had existed and still -lingered. There was a cloudy sort of doubt, indeed, which overshadowed the minds -of both those fair girls, but a doubt which attached not in the least degree to -Chandos Winslow. In the mind of Rose, that doubt amounted almost to a certainty; -and some words which she had incautiously dropped in her agonizing suspense as -to the result of the trial, had communicated suspicions to her sister, less -defined, but more painful, than those which she herself entertained. With -Chandos, of course, there was no doubt; he knew the truth too well; but all the -horror of that truth seemed to present itself more strongly to his imagination, -when he sat in the presence of poor Emily, and recollected the tie, imperfect as -it was, which bound her to his brother.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, after about a quarter of an hour had passed, Emily rose, saying, -with a smile, "I will leave you a little; for I know you must have much to say -to each other. My father and my uncle will soon be back, and then I will join -you again."</p> - -<p class="normal">When she was gone, a few minutes were given to tenderness. Dark and sad -events are skilful pioneers for love and confidence. They hew down in no time -all the barriers of restraint and reserve, and leave the way free for heart to -approach heart, unresisted.</p> - -<p class="normal">But Chandos Winslow felt that in deep enjoyment they were losing moments -precious for explanation: and at length he turned the conversation, somewhat -abruptly, perhaps, to his own situation, in relation to herself.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I see, dearest Rose," he said, "that you have made a confidant of your -sister, and I am delighted that it is so; but I must not let my hopes carry me -too far, and lead me to believe that the pain and anxiety which you must have -suffered, have driven you to communicate all that is between us to your father -and your uncle."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did not know that I might, Chandos," she answered: "in the dreadful state -of suspense and anguish in which your trial placed me, I could not, indeed, -refrain from sharing my thoughts with poor Emily. Thus much, however, I thought -myself bound to tell my father--that I had known your real name from the moment -you came to Northferry--that we had met before, and passed one long, happy day -together; but that you had exacted from me a promise not to betray you, because -you particularly wished your brother not to know where you were. My father asked -but one question, which was, whether I believed I was myself in any degree the -cause of your coming to Northferry? I replied, certainly not; for that I had -every reason to believe you did not know that I was there, or was his daughter. -This seemed to satisfy him perfectly; but indeed he has had so many painful -things to think of, that I do not wonder at his giving no further attention to -the subject. With my uncle, it is very different; for I am sure he suspects, if -he does not know the whole. You have heard, of course, the sad change of fortune -we have met with. My father is at liberty now, on what they call bail, I -believe; but I tremble every moment, for what each ensuing day may produce. It -is supposed, that the man who has carried away all the shares, and bonds, and -papers of that kind, does not intend to sell them; as there would be difficulty -and danger in so doing, even in a foreign country; but is likely to negociate -with my father for the restitution, in consideration of a sum of money, and -indemnity for the past. Nothing has been heard of him, however; and in the -meantime it is ruin to my father."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Has no part of his course been traced, dear Rose?" asked Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It was at first supposed he had gone to the Continent," replied his fair -companion; "but every inquiry has been made at the passport offices, and no -trace of a person of his peculiar appearance can be found at any of those -places. They now fear that he may have escaped to America."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He is not a man to be mistaken," said Chandos: "I saw him once when I was -travelling up to London in January; and in the public carriage itself he could -not refrain from making use of your father's name to entrap others. He tempted -even me, Rose, poor as I am: and those words bring me, dear girl, to matters -which had better be spoken of at once--spoken of even between you and me, -although, perhaps, it is strange to mention them to you at all--."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Tempted you, Chandos!" exclaimed Rose Tracy. "Oh! I hope he did not -succeed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, no!" answered her lover; "but yet I was in a degree tempted. I was going -to London, with my thoughts full of Rose Tracy, with my heart full of passionate -attachment. I felt that under the will of my father, which had been proved, my -means were far too small, without some great exertion on my own part, to justify -me in pretending to her hand; and at the very moment when I was thinking of how -I could mend my broken fortunes--by what effort, by what scheme, however bold, I -could acquire a position which would give me even hope, this man crossed me with -visioned promises of speedy wealth. But a moment's reflection on the means, a -moment's examination of the man himself, dispelled the illusion. Now, however, -dear Rose, it behoves me to put the same questions to myself which I then put. I -am not richer, but poorer; all I have on earth is but a pittance, barely enough -to maintain myself in the rank of a gentleman. What will your father, what will -your uncle say, if I presume to tell them of my love, and ask for it their -countenance and approbation?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose leaned her head upon her hand, and her eyes filled with tears; but she -answered at length, "You must tell them, at all events, Chandos. You cannot -tell, you cannot imagine the pain--the agony of mind which the concealment I have -already practised has brought upon me--innocent and justifiable as I thought it. -Oh! Chandos, for my sake you must abandon all further disguise."</p> - -<p class="normal">"For your sake, dear Rose, I would do anything," replied Chandos Winslow; -"but of course you do not wish me to enter upon the subject to-night. To-morrow -I must go into the city to sell out a part of my small portion, in order to pay -the expenses of the late trial. I must also see my friend, Sir ----, who so nobly -and ably defended me. He seems to entertain a belief--on which, however, I would -not found the slightest hope--that a subsequent will of my father's may either be -recovered, or the intention of it proved, or something of the kind--I really do -not exactly know what; and that I may be thereby enabled to stop the sale of -Winslow Abbey."</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose started; but ere she could explain the effect which such a step, if it -were practicable, might have upon the fortunes of her father, a carriage drew up -to the house, and there was a footman's knock at the door. Emily immediately -joined them, and it was evident that she had been weeping. Chandos knew not his -strange position: but could he have seen into the hearts of those two fair -girls, what would he have beheld?--That the one rejoiced at his acquittal of a -crime she knew he had not committed, yet saw therein the prospect of misery to -herself by the probable consequence of his brother's return to England; that the -other, while she could not but hope that he might establish his rights, whatever -they were, feared that her own father's utter ruin would be thereby consummated.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next moment General Tracy and his brother entered the room. Mr. Tracy's -face bore evident marks of the mental suffering he had endured and was enduring. -The tranquil, well-satisfied, somewhat self-sufficient air was gone; and there -was a look of sadness, bordering on the morose, in its place. No man likes to -find himself a fool; and most men try to prevent others from discovering the -same fact, or at all events to hide their own mental assent thereunto, by -assuming a cold pride which will not bate a jot of its dignity. Thus, though he -was shaken and evidently enfeebled in frame, he walked into the room with as -stately a step as if he had never committed a folly in his life.</p> - -<p class="normal">General Tracy, on the contrary, was unchanged either in person or demeanour. -There was the stout, soldier-like, upright form; there was the warm, rosy -complexion; there was the frank, straightforward bearing, and the warm, -good-humoured smile, betokening the cheerful disposition, so charming in an old -man. He walked straight up to Chandos Winslow and shook him heartily by the -hand, saying, "Delighted to see you, my young friend. None have taken a deeper -interest in late events than we have done in this small house; though it was -impossible for any of us to be down at S----. None have more rejoiced that you -have had fair play shown, and justice done you; for that was all we feared--that -some of the quirks and quibbles of the law, some of the follies or obstinacies -of jurymen, might make wrong seem right."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Tracy also held out his hand to his former gardener, but it was more -coldly; and he only said, "I can assure you, Mr. Winslow, I never entertained -the slightest doubt regarding you, and rejoice much that you have been able so -fully to justify the opinion every one entertained of you; though why you -thought fit to play gardener for so many months, I have not yet been able to -divine."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That will be easily explained, Mr. Tracy," replied Chandos; "and to explain -it is one of the great objects of my coming here directly after the trial. The -facts are simply these: I had long entertained a strong desire--a whim if you -please to call it--to see the poorer classes nearer than a rich man can usually -see them. A good many years ago, a very severe dispute occurred between my -brother and myself, into the particulars of which I need not enter. Whoever was -in fault, it left a coldness between us which never decreased. When my father's -will was read, I found that he had made me a dependent on my brother, as far as -it was in his power to do so. I was not disposed to be dependent upon any man, -nor to be under any obligation to one with whom I was not on good terms. I -expressed my determination--I trust, in no ungentlemanly manner--to receive -nothing from my brother; and a sharp altercation ensued, which ended in my -leaving a house that had become his. A small property had been left me some time -before by a relation; my father had added by his will a very valuable library -and some fine pictures. With these I might either have limited my ambition to -what I had, or I might have opened for myself a new career; but I accidentally -heard, immediately after I quitted my brother's house, that you were seeking a -head-gardener. I had for four or five years taken upon myself the entire -superintendence of the fine gardens at Elmsly, and my old whim of descending for -a time from the station in which I was born, and mingling with the poorer -classes of the people, as one of themselves, came back upon me. I had no -knowledge that in your daughter I should meet one who had known me in a -different rank of life; for the scenes where we had formerly met were so -different from the quiet seclusion of Northferry, that the identity of the name -of my fair acquaintance with that of the gentleman whose service I sought, never -struck me. I feel, however, Mr. Tracy, that I owe you an apology for having -deceived you as to who I was; but you will clearly see that I had no hope of -carrying out my scheme with any one, unless my name and station were concealed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A curious whim, indeed," said General Tracy; "and one which has had very -serious results. Nevertheless, I can perfectly understand the feelings in which -it was conceived, my young friend; for it is a sort of thing I have often -entertained an idea of myself, without having ever had the spirit to carry it -out. I dreamed of it even as a boy, when reading the adventures of the disguised -Haroun al Raschid."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I never had such visions," said Mr. Tracy; "nor do I think that the -enterprise would answer at all the object for which it was undertaken. A man who -descends, either voluntarily or involuntarily, from a higher to a lower station -in life, carries his own world of habits, thoughts, feelings, and prejudices -with him; and sees through the same discoloured spectacles, though he may see a -little nearer. But I cannot afford to discuss such things to-night; for, to say -the truth, I am weary and harassed."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos received the last words as a somewhat broad and not very civil hint -to go, and accordingly rose and took his hat; but General Tracy stopped him, -saying, "Stay a minute, stay a minute; I want to talk to you about two or three -things, Winslow: first, I must know where you are to be found; next, when we -shall see you again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am, for to-night, the denizen of a very unfashionable part of the world," -replied Chandos, "and under the auspices of a somewhat strange-looking monster, -called the Swan with Two Necks, in Lad-lane; but to-morrow I shall be at the ---- -Hotel, in Cork-street. A man who has been tried for murder will, of course, be -an object of curiosity and remark for a few days; and I wish to get it over as -soon as possible."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are right," said the General; "but come down into the dining-room, and -let me talk to you about one or two things connected with that same trial. -Arthur, I suppose you will be gone to bed before I come up. Good night!" and, -taking up a light, the old officer led the way down.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos bade adieu to the rest of the party, warmly in some cases, somewhat -coolly in another, and followed. When they were below the General closed the -door, and then shook his young companion by the hand again, saying, "I -congratulate you from the heart at the issue of the trial, though that issue was -brought about by means to me totally unexpected."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not more so to you than to myself, General," replied Chandos Winslow, -frankly; "that is to say, if you mean the evidence of Mr. Fleming and his -servant. Nor will I conceal from you for a moment, that the whole of that -evidence was false--under an error, I am quite sure; but none the less false. I -was not at Northferry at all that night after I returned to my own cottage. Mr. -Fleming must have mistaken Lockwood, my half-brother, a natural son of my -father's, for me. Indeed, the likeness, I believe, is very great."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is strange," said General Tracy, musing; and Chandos continued: "Most -strange! That the evidence which saved my life should be as false as the -accusation against me, is very curious indeed. Had I known what Mr. Fleming was -called for before he appeared, I would not have suffered it; although I believe, -had it not been for his testimony, I should have been condemned for an act of -which I am as innocent as yourself; for, if you remark, there was but one -circumstance which could raise a reasonable doubt in my favour: that of the -servant lad, Michael Burwash, who saw some one return from the grounds into the -house after poor Roberts had crossed the lawn."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you know who that was?" asked General Tracy, quickly.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos was silent; and the old officer added: "It was your own brother. You -owe me that lad's evidence, Winslow; for, as soon as I returned to Northferry, -after seeing you in prison, I examined all the servants myself, and sent word to -your lawyer, that Burwash had acknowledged the important fact you have -mentioned. I then gave up some time to an investigation of who the person could -be who had come in so late, and by such an unusual entrance. My brother was at -home at the time, I found. I was absent. None of the servants would think of -entering by the Green-house. On inquiring of Emily, whose room was opposite to -that where Sir William Winslow slept, I found that she recollected having heard -his door shut sharply just before she rang for lights. Further, I found that he -was very late down at dinner that day; that he was agitated and strange in his -manner; complained of having over fatigued himself, and being unwell; and at -length sent for old Woodyard, and was bled. Since then, however, Rose has -acknowledged to me, that when speaking with you at the basin of gold-fish, she -heard your brother's voice, in the grounds, raised loud. After that I had no -doubt that Sir William was the person who returned in so curious a manner--more I -am not justified in saying."</p> - -<p class="normal">Still Chandos was silent, and sat with his eyes bent down upon the Turkey -carpet; and after gazing at him for a moment, General Tracy turned abruptly to -another part of the subject.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That brings me," he said, "to a point which I have hitherto forgotten, -Chandos, though it is one which should have been first remembered. I have not -yet thanked you, my dear young man, for the delicacy and kindness you have shown -in not calling Rose as a witness. She was prepared to do her duty firmly; and -when she spoke to me upon the subject, I advised her to write to you and say so; -but it is not necessary to tell you what a painful task it would have been for -her. You must feel--indeed, you have shown you feel it; and I thank you deeply -for your consideration in this matter."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I would not have had her called for the world," answered Chandos; "I know -what a frightful thing to a woman must be a cross-examination in a court of -justice. If the opposite party called her, I could not, of course, help it; but -then I could have ensured--at least, I trust so--that she was subject to no pain -by the cross-examination of my own counsel; and that was something."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Everything," answered the General; "and it seems strange to me that they did -not call her."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All things concerned with the trial were strange," said Chandos. "I suppose -in this instance the lawyers were well aware that your niece's evidence was not -likely to suit their purpose; for, I am sorry to say, it was but too evident -that the object of the counsel for the prosecution was to get a verdict against -me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I remarked it, I remarked it," said General Tracy; "and, I am sorry to say, -I have seen the same very often in criminal cases. Man is a beastly animal, my -young friend, and the cause of half his brutality is vanity, it was so here, and -is so always. A counsel does not choose to be beaten; and he moves heaven and -earth, not so much to hang the prisoner, as to triumph over his opponents. But -it must all seem very strange to you now, sitting here quietly in this -dining-room, to think that, only yesterday you were made the sport of -circumstances which held your life continually in the balance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Like a dream," answered Chandos Winslow; "and by no means a pleasant one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, it is happy, at all events, that the dream has ended so well," -rejoined the old officer; "you have come off with flying colours; and although -we are in sad tribulation here just now, from circumstances which you have no -doubt heard of, you must come and dine with me, and we will have a long chat -upon other affairs, which must be spoken of before we have done. Can you come -to-morrow?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear not," answered his young companion. "I shall be the greater part of -the day in the city; and have, besides, to consult lawyers upon matters greatly -affecting my interests, although I much fear that no good will result from our -consultations."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Don't plunge into law! don't plunge into law!" said the General, shaking his -head ruefully. "I declare, I would rather lose all I have, than to get into a -law-suit about it. The roguery and folly of the world, are the fields from which -lawyers reap their harvests; and a plentiful crop they get. In England, at -least, there is as much philosophy as charity in that passage of the Bible which -says, 'If a man take your cloak, give him your coat also;' for if you go to law -with him, hang me, if those human sharks, the lawyers, do not contrive to get -your breeches into the bargain. But can you come the day after to-morrow then?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos assented, and, the hour being fixed at half-past seven, took his -leave, and returned to his inn in the city. The chamber assigned to him was -large and gloomy: the wainscoted walls were covered, besides the paint, with the -smoke and dust of half a century; the bed in the far corner rose tall and -ghastly, in curtains of brown moreen; and the hangings at the windows had -acquired a hue which can only be given by long immersion in a London atmosphere. -There was a feeling of foul misery about the whole, which fell depressing upon -the spirit of Chandos Winslow. It was much more like poverty and wretchedness -than the gardener's cottage at Northferry. He thought of Rose Tracy; he recalled -her father's cold and repulsive manner; he inquired of his own heart if it were -possible to ask her to share poverty with him; to expose her to all the ills of -penury, the daily cares and grinding inconveniences of narrow means, and to bind -down her free spirit, unaccustomed to a want unsatisfied, a wish unfulfilled, in -the hard chain of straitened circumstances. Chandos Winslow would not answer the -question; but his heart sunk as he propounded it to himself: and he went to bed -weary of the working-day world and the battle of anxious thought.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">The next was a busy day with Chandos Winslow. His first occupation was to -sell out a sum sufficient to pay the costs of the late trial, as far as he was -able to calculate them, from the rough data which he had received. He added -thereunto, two hundred and fifty pounds, for his current expenses; and having -arranged that affair, and placed the money in his banker's hands, he proceeded -to seek the friend who had so ably pleaded his cause. From his house, he was -sent to his chambers; from his chambers, to a court of law, where he found him, -wigged and gowned, in the midst of a long and laborious argument, which seemed -likely never to come to an end. After enduring full two hours, however, the -speech was concluded; and Chandos, sending his card, obtained a moment's -interview with his friend. Sir---- shook him warmly by the hand, saying rapidly, -"Come to me at nine to-night, Winslow: I cannot stay with you now; for I must -hear what the gentlemen opposite have to say. Don't eat much dinner; for I shall -eat nothing till then."</p> - -<p class="normal">"At your own house, or at your chambers?" asked Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"At chambers, at chambers," said the barrister, turning to go back into the -court. "I shall not get home till two. Our lives are not easy ones."</p> - -<p class="normal">It was now about four o'clock; and, with feelings difficult to describe, but -to which he was resolved not to yield, Chandos Winslow proceeded to call upon -several of his most intimate acquaintances. It required an effort to knock at -the first door. The feeling of having stood in the felon's dock, was strong upon -him. The uncertainty of the reception he should meet with; the knowledge that, -with a mind which: has the slightest tincture of vulgarity--that is to say, with -nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine persons out -of every million--an accusation, however false, leaves some stain; he felt -irritable and impatient beforehand, at the idea of being treated coldly at a -moment when he felt that society owed him something, for having inflicted on him -undeserved hardships.</p> - -<p class="normal">Luckily he had chosen well in the person whom he had selected for his first -visit. She was the widow of a nobleman who had been distinguished for many -virtues himself; and she was mild, kind, and charitable, though not without a -certain degree of dignified stateliness, which showed that she felt her high -station, without the slightest touch of pride. She received her young visitor -almost as if nothing had happened. I say, almost, because there was the least -possible difference in the warmth of her reception. It was more cordial, less -tranquil, than it might have been under ordinary circumstances. She rose from -her seat more quickly, held out her hand, and said, "Oh, Mr. Winslow, is that -really you? Well, this is very kind of you, to call upon me so soon. Now sit -down, pray, and tell me all about yourself, and what you are going to do; how -long you are to be in London, and all."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos was soon at his ease; and he thought, "With some few friends such as -this, I can afford to set the general world at nought." About twenty minutes -passed very pleasantly; and then he rose to proceed to another house. His -reception there was very different: the whole family was cold; and he stayed not -ten minutes. Then again, at the next place, he heard the owner of the house, -even after he had been admitted to the drawing-room, tell the servant from a -neighbouring chamber to say that he had made a mistake, and that his master was -out. When the man re-entered to utter the prescribed lie Chandos had his hat on -his head, and was walking towards the door: "You may spare yourself, my good -man," he said, bowing his head haughtily, "I have heard the whole," and he -walked out of the house, never to enter it again.</p> - -<p class="normal">He made one other call. The lady of the house was at home, and delighted to -see him. She talked to him incessantly of his trial, declared that it was the -funniest and most delightful thing that had ever happened; and invited him to a -ball, where all the great people in London were to be present.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos had no inclination to be exhibited as a felon-lion; and did not -promise to go.</p> - -<p class="normal">At nine o'clock precisely, Chandos was at his friend's chambers, and found -him alone, with a table spread for two, in a little dull room. A note-book and -some stray papers lay on one side of the table; and the moment after the young -gentleman had entered, a servant brought in a tray, with soup and several other -dishes upon it, sent from some neighbouring hotel.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now, Winslow, sit down," said the barrister, "and we will talk as we eat; -for I can afford but one hour for repose and refreshment to-day." The servant -uncovered the dishes, and instantly disappeared. The barrister took his place, -helped his guest and himself to soup; and between each spoonful, looked at the -papers and notes beside him, without apology. As soon as the soup was done, he -rang a bell, which was tied by a string to his chair; and while the servant took -away the plates, and handed some cutlets to his master's guest, the great lawyer -rubbed his temple with one finger, in a profound reverie. The servant then -disappeared, without venturing to disturb his master's meditations by presenting -the dish; and the next moment the barrister roused himself, saying, "Come, -Winslow, a glass of wine, and then I will tell you what you must do. I think you -must take a solicitor with you, and go down very quietly into the neighbourhood -of Winslow Abbey. The first person you had better see is your good friend, -Lockwood. Let him dictate to the solicitor everything he knows regarding certain -papers found by Mr. Roberts, at the Abbey. He will do it willingly enough, I am -sure. Then you must get hold of a young gentleman, whose relationship to -yourself, or connexion with your family, I do not know; but his name is--let me -see--Faber."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! poor Faber," said Chandos; "he is a good young man, but weak; and as to -his relationship with me, I believe it is very much the same as Lockwood's."</p> - -<p class="normal">He spoke with a faint smile, and his friend laughed, saying, "Well then, you -must exercise your brotherly influence over him, for the purpose of inducing him -to give a full, true, and particular account of all he knows concerning these -papers, and of a will, made five years posterior to the one proved, but which -has not yet appeared."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos mused for a moment, and the barrister took another glass of wine. "I -am afraid," said the former, at length, "that Faber will not be easily induced -to speak. He certainly loves me better than he does my brother. He has been with -me more, is kind and well disposed; but still his is one of those characters on -which the stern and determined work easily, and which may be led to wrong those -whom they love best, for the sake of those whom they fear. I have seen him -actually shake in my brother's presence; and I do not think he dare utter a word -which would offend Sir William Winslow, even if he were at a thousand miles' -distance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If he is only to be moved by sternness and determination, you must be stern -and determined, too," said his friend; "you can be so when you like, I know, -Winslow."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But Faber will never believe I shall prove so to him," answered Chandos: "I -may threaten; but he will trust to my regard for him to render my threats of no -avail."</p> - -<p class="normal">"At all events, you must try every means to make him speak," rejoined Sir ----; -"for his testimony might be very important. He was present, it seems, when Mr. -Roberts found, in a drawer of the library, a memorandum, in your father's -handwriting, of his having given the last will, which he made about five years -ago, into the keeping of your brother."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" said Chandos. "This is new to me. But if we have not the will -itself, I suppose the memorandum will be of little avail."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Unsupported, of course, it will be of none at all," replied his friend; "but -I find that when the memorandum was discovered, Faber showed so much agitation, -that those who witnessed it were led to suspect that he knew more of what had -become of the will than he chose to acknowledge. At all events, you must try -every means with him; and having got all the information you can from those two -sources, I would advise you to cross the country to see Mr. Roberts's executor, -and endeavour to obtain an inspection of his papers. If amongst them there -should be found a copy of a will of that date, though not signed, or a sketch of -one in your father's handwriting, and if you can prove that the other will has -been lately destroyed, I think--mind, I speak doubtingly--but I think we might do -something, by one means or another."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A law-suit with a brother," said Chandos, musing, "based on an accusation of -his having destroyed his father's will, and wronged his brother! It would be a -terrible thing!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"It would, indeed!" replied Sir ----; "but my hope is, Chandos, that we may not -be driven to a law-suit, if we can accumulate sufficient proofs to alarm the -opposite party. Take some of that Sillery, and do not let what I am going to say -startle you. Mark me well, however. You have your brother's life in your hands. -As soon as he has time to think, he will perceive, from the course of defence -pursued on your trial, that such is the case--that a foundation is already laid, -indeed, for building up a truth that would destroy him--that you have nothing to -do but to say in the ear of Justice, 'I would not let my counsel defend me at -the expense of a brother's life,' and to prove that Lockwood was mistaken for -you, in order to render your evidence conclusive against him. These are terrible -weapons, it is true; and I would not have you use them even in menace, unless it -be established to your full conviction that your brother has destroyed your -father's last will, or has concealed it. Then, I think, you will be justified in -demanding that right be done you, in terms which cannot be mistaken. But I do -not think he has destroyed the will. Men seldom dare to commit great crimes -unless under the influence of hasty passion--when lesser ones will serve their -purpose. I think the will is concealed; and if we can prove the clauses -distinctly, I doubt not, under all the circumstances, a search will be made for -it, and it will be found. Look here at a train of evidence that would not be -pleasant for your brother to have brought forward in a court, even though you -used no menace in reference to the terrible facts within your own knowledge. I -am already prepared to prove that Mr. Roberts came over to Northferry to inform -you of his having found the memorandum I have mentioned; that your brother was -at Mr. Tracy's house at the time; that some one, hearing the appearance of a -gentleman, entered the house by the most private entrance, immediately after the -murder; that it was not yourself, Mr. Tracy, or his brother; that the only -person who could be injured by the tale Mr. Roberts had to tell was Sir William -Winslow. Do you not think, Chandos, that he must have a consciousness that there -are a thousand circumstances likely to be brought out in any trial, which would -render the train of evidence complete against him, and bring the heavy hand of -justice on his head, even if you should remain silent? Depend upon it, if he -have not destroyed the will, he will speedily find it, as soon as you have -collected all the proofs of its having existed, and been in his possession; and -if he have destroyed it, and you can show what were its provisions, that he will -concede them all, rather than incur a suit which must entail disclosures tending -to consequences more fatal. It is on this account that I advise you to go down -at once, while he is still absent, and collect all the information you can get. -But, in the very first place, you must enter a protest against the sale of -Winslow Abbey."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I understood that it was already sold, and the money paid," replied Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Two-thirds of the money have been paid, I hear," replied the barrister, -"upon an undertaking, under Sir William's hand, to complete the transfer within -a given time. But still the transfer is incomplete; and you must show, by a -caveat, that you are not a consenting party, so as to guard against even the -semblance of laches on your side. Get your protest drawn up in due form by a -solicitor to-morrow, have it laid before counsel for an opinion, and furnish -both <i>vendor</i> and <i>emptor</i> with a copy; then set out again upon your voyage of -discovery, and let me know the result. Linger not here, fond youth, by the side -of beauty; but away, in search of that which, in the present day alone, can -unchain Andromeda from the rock. Depend upon it, my dear Winslow, that pretty -fable of the lady upon the sea-shore, and the Gorgon-slaying Perseus, has a very -unpoetic interpretation. Andromeda is the representative of a fashionable young -lady; the rock, the hard state of single blessedness to which her parents chain -her, in default of a suitable match; the sea-monster destined to devour her, old -maidenism; and Perseus, a rich East-Indian, very bilious, who, with the sword of -wealth, slays the monster, and frees the damsel from her chains, to marry her -himself. And now let us empty that bottle of Sillery, and have another; for -alas! in the life that I lead, I am forced to combat corporal weakness with that -which saps corporal strength; and wine versus weariness is the cause I am trying -every day."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos Winslow remained till a few minutes after ten, and then proceeded, -not to the inn which he had tenanted the night before, but to his new abode in -Cork Street. What a contrast! Damask curtains, gay coloured carpets, polished -mahogany, shining fire-irons, clean walls, and a bright fire! But the contrast -was not greater than between his own mood that night and the mood of the night -preceding. The words of his friend had relighted the lamp of Hope, of which the -everlasting fire of Vesta was but a faint image.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">How many fruitless beatings of the heart there are in the world! Whether it -be from fear, anxiety, agitation, hope, anger, love, hatred, that beating of the -heart is one of the most vain and useless operations which any part of the human -frame performs. The heart of Chandos Winslow beat very idly at the door of -General Tracy's house, in Green-street. He fancied that in about a minute and a -half he would be in the presence of Rose Tracy, he painted to himself her looks, -he seemed to hear her words; but when he found himself in the drawing-room, the -General was there alone; and the very simple words, "Bring dinner," which were -uttered as soon as he entered, showed him as plainly as if the General had -spoken an oration, that he and his host were to dine tęte-ŕ-tęte. He felt a good -deal disappointed; but he did not suffer his mortification to appear; and in -about ten minutes he was seated at the hospitable board and partaking of a very -excellent, though plain dinner. The wines were all exceedingly good, though not -very various; and Sherry, of the best vintage, Madeira, which had twice seen the -Cape, with Oporto, which had lived as wine in part of two centuries, supplied -well the place of Champagne, of Claret, and of Burgundy.</p> - -<p class="normal">The General suffered the meal to pass by, and also the two first glasses of -wine after dinner, without touching upon anything which had a business tone in -it. Chandos found that Rose, Emily, and Mr. Tracy had moved during the preceding -day to that gentleman's house, in Berkeley-square.</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is a great deal to be done there," said General Tracy; "and it is well -that they should be on the spot."</p> - -<p class="normal">Some short time after dinner, came one of those pauses which are generally -produced by a slight feeling of embarrassment on both parts. Chandos was not -sure whether General Tracy expected him to begin upon the subject nearest his -heart, or not; and the General himself, though a very brave and determined man -in most matters, shrunk a little from the commencement of a conversation, in the -course of which he felt that pain might be given to one whom he liked and -esteemed.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length he forced himself to the task; and, after putting over the decanter -to his guest, and rubbing his right temple for a moment, he said, "Your friend, -Sir ----, made an admirable defence for you, Winslow. I could only have wished -that he had omitted a few words about my pretty niece, Rose. I think it was -unnecessary, and not altogether judicious."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Had I possessed any power of stopping him," replied Chandos Winslow; "those -words should never have been spoken, my dear Sir. But I very well understand the -motives on which Sir ---- acted. He only thought of his client's defence; and -judged it was necessary to assign or hint some reason for not calling Miss Tracy -on my part, as it had already appeared that she was the last person with whom I -spoke before the murder. I am exceedingly grieved, however, that the slightest -pain should have been inflicted upon her for my sake."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," said General Tracy; "do not vex yourself about that. I am not -inclined to think that Rose has felt any pain on that account. The reason why I -feel sorry, is, that what he said must force forward explanations, my young -friend, which might have been better delayed. No one can accuse you, Chandos, of -having acted in any way but with the most perfect delicacy, except, perhaps, in -having induced Rose to conceal from her family your real rank and name, while -playing gardener at Northferry."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I trust, General Tracy," replied Chandos, "that you and your brother are -both perfectly well aware, I had no notion whatever, when I came to Northferry, -that my London acquaintance, Miss Tracy, was a daughter of the master of the -house. Had I been informed of the fact, I give you my word of honour, I should -not have played gardener there at all. When I had once applied for the place, -however, if I had not bound her to secrecy, of course, I must have abandoned my -whole scheme."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That certainly makes a difference," said General Tracy, with a smile; "and -would make a greater difference still, if there had not been a little bit of -love in the case, my young friend."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There was none when I came there," exclaimed Chandos, eagerly; "I had but -seen Miss Tracy once. I admired her, as all who see her must admire her; but I -can assure you there was nothing more: though I do not mean to deny that longer -acquaintance, and the circumstances in which we have been placed with regard to -each other, have changed what was then mere admiration into the most sincere and -devoted attachment."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, well," said General Tracy, "we will not dwell upon the past, Chandos, -but rather turn to consider the future. I must enter into explanations with you, -my young friend, painful for me to give, and which, in their deductions, may be -painful, I fear, to you also."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do not tell me not to hope, General Tracy," replied Chandos, in a gloomy -tone; "for that would take all power from the efforts which I am called upon to -make to change a bad situation into a good one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Such is not at all my intention," said the old officer. "But it is necessary -that your position with my sweet niece should be exactly defined; and as my -brother was not willing to enter upon any explanation, I have taken it upon -myself: so listen patiently. You must have heard, at least, I will take it for -granted you are aware, that grave embarrassments have most suddenly and -unexpectedly fallen upon Rose's father. In short, he has acted like a great -fool; and has only for his excuse, that the madness is epidemic just now. The -Northferry estate was engaged for its full value, or very nearly so, to meet the -first pressing difficulty some time ago. A further debt, to the amount of more -than one hundred thousand pounds remained to be paid; but to meet that, he had -shares which at their then value would have covered the sum within a few -thousand pounds. Some of the shares fell in value; and I saw that there would be -a necessity for my stepping in to his aid. I exacted from him authority, -however, to sell the whole of the rubbish on which he had been spending his -fortune, in order to realize as much as possible; but when I came to inquire, I -found that the shares were in the hands of a broker; and two days after I -discovered that this broker has absconded, carrying all with him. A reaction is -taking place--several of the lines have risen much in the market. If my brother -had possession of the papers, all could be cleared in an hour. But the man's -retreat is not to be discovered; and though he cannot sell them himself without -great danger, he has taken no steps as yet to negociate for the restitution of -the property to my brother, as we supposed might be the rascal's course. In the -mean while my brother was arrested and brought to London, where the action was -bailed; but a threat has been held out to make him a bankrupt as a dealer--a -thing most disgraceful to a gentleman. I have always been anxious to spare my -brother Arthur all unnecessary pain on the subject, and willing to make any -personal sacrifices for him; and, after due consideration, I yesterday made a -proposal to the creditors to the following effect:--To sell my own estate; and, -with the reservation of ten thousand pounds for each of the girls, and ten -thousand more to buy an annuity for my own and my brother's lives, to make over -to them all the proceeds, upon their giving him a release, and forbearing to -strike a docket against him, with a covenant, that if the papers respecting the -shares are ever recovered, the whole shall be sold to pay off what debt may -remain. It is estimated by competent persons, that what I offer, together with -the proceeds of the sale of his house in town, the books, pictures, &c., will -afford a dividend of about seventy per cent., and I think they will accept it. -My brother will then be saved from the disgrace of a bankruptcy court; but you -will remark that Rose's portion will be but ten thousand pounds."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I think I need hardly tell you, General Tracy," replied Chandos; "that Miss -Tracy's fortune was never for one moment a consideration with me. Little or -great, my attachment is the same, and would remain so if she had nought but her -hand to bestow."</p> - -<p class="normal">General Tracy smiled. "You are too impetuous," he said. "I can easily -conceive that her fortune was no <i>inducement</i>, young gentleman; but a matter of -consideration it must be both with you and me. Could I divide all I have at this -moment between my two nieces, and give Rose a portion which would enable you to -live at ease, I should have no hesitation, no care; but such is not the case. -She has but a small dower; you, if I mistake not, have not much more, and the -amount that you could together supply would not be sufficient to maintain you in -the station of life in which you have both been born. You have at present no -profession, Chandos; no means of increasing your income. You must seek one--you -must choose some course which will give a reasonable hope of securing -competence; and then, claim the dear girl's hand if you will. I am not ambitious -for my niece--I seek for her neither high nor wealthy alliance; but I have lived -long enough to learn that, after health, competence is the best blessing of God. -The days of love in a cottage have long passed by; and as my brother has fully -authorized me to deal with this matter as I think fit, I say thus shall it -be--apply yourself to find some honourable means of supporting a lady by your own -abilities in the station of a lady, and Rose Tracy's friends will oppose no -obstacle; but till then, no sworn vows or solemn engagements. If you cannot -trust to her affection, her affection is not worth having. If she cannot rely -upon your honour, she is better without yourself."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos took his hand and pressed it warmly. "So be it," he said; "but two -questions more, General Tracy. What will you think sufficient to justify us in -marrying?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have thought of no particular income," replied the old officer. "A pursuit -that may lead to one, is the first thing. As to the rest, say five hundred a -year more than you already possess together. Now for the second question."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is, whether you intend to refuse me her society till such a point be -obtained," was Chandos Winslow's reply.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, Heaven forbid!" cried the old officer; "that were to inflict -unnecessary pain, and to take from you the best encouragement to exertion. No! I -trust entirely to your honour, my young friend, that you do not pursue your suit -beyond the bounds agreed upon; and, with that understanding, when she becomes -the inmate of my dwelling, as will most likely soon be the case, you may see her -when you please--with due moderation, Chandos--with due moderation, remember."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You thought that what you had to say would give me pain, my dear General," -answered Chandos; "but it is all I could wish or expect. I have now an object in -life, now a hope to lead me on; and energetic efforts under such circumstances -will not fail of success, I am sure. I have, however, other tasks before me, -which I must execute in the first place, although I anticipate little success. -If therefore, you have any commands for Northferry, I am ready to perform them, -as I shall be down in that neighbourhood for a fortnight to come."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have none," replied the General. "Northferry and ourselves will soon, I -suppose, have to part for ever; and I should have thought your connexion with -that pleasant place was already severed. Alas! that it should be so. I have come -to that time of life, Chandos, when the mind's food is memory. Hope is the -pabulum of youth, my young friend; recollection the diet of old age: and we -cling to everything that recalls pleasant memories, as one of your London -diner's-out attaches himself to a giver of good dinners. But what, I wonder, -takes you to Northferry?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"A wild goose chase, I believe," answered Chandos; "I would fain encourage -expectation of some good resulting from it; but the hopes fade away as soon as -they are born; and I go more because a good and a wise friend advises me, than -from any conviction on my own part. Neither do I exactly go to Northferry; but -very near it I shall certainly be, if you have any commands."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Few, few," replied the General. "One thing, indeed, you may do, if you will; -namely, bring the little boy, Tim, to London with you. I must put him to a -school in the neighbourhood; for even misfortune must not make me forget my -given word."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos promised to take all care of the boy; and the conversation turned to -other subjects.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XL.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">Four days passed after Chandos Winslow's conference with General Tracy ere he -could quit London. Lawyers are not fond of moving fast. Some difficulties -occurred in drawing up the notice to be served upon Sir William Winslow and Lord -Overton, regarding the sale of Winslow Abbey; and the whole arrangements were -not completed till late on the fourth night. Chandos consoled himself easily, -however; for during those four days he twice saw Rose Tracy; and he began to -comprehend better than he had ever done before, how Mark Antony had lost a world -for Cleopatra's eyes. At length, however, on the fifth morning, one of those -machines which the Londoners, in their monosyllabic propensity call a "cab," -whirled him and his light portmanteau down to the railway terminus, and in two -minutes after, Chandos was rolling away upon the rails towards his native place. -The morning had been beautiful, dawning with a brightness and a lustre which do -not always promise well for the risen day; and ere the train had reached the -second station, the sky was covered with gray cloud, and a thin, fine rain was -dewing the whole earth. Thicker and faster it came down as the traveller -proceeded on his way, till at length when he got out, about sixty miles from -town, to perform the rest of his journey by coach, a perfect deluge was -pattering upon the roof of the shed under which he alighted. He had neither -umbrella nor great coat; and he was glad to find an inside place disengaged, to -carry him at least part of the way warm and dry.</p> - -<p class="normal">His companions were an elderly woman, with a large basket, well furnished -with sandwiches, and a wicker bottle full of gin-and-water; and a tall, stout -man, of about forty-five or forty-six, tolerably well dressed, in a long brown -great-coat, and endowed with an exceedingly yellow complexion. The lady did not -seem inclined for much conversation, but consoled herself from time to time for -the evils of travelling by the sources of comfort which she had provided in her -bottle and basket. The male traveller was somewhat more communicative, though in -a peculiarly short, dry way. He saluted Chandos on his entering the coach with a -"Good morning, Sir;" which act of homeliness of course bespoke the rude -countryman, in a land where every well-educated man demeans himself towards his -neighbour as an enemy, till something occurs to make them friends. Chandos, on -his part, was not in the slightest degree afraid of having his pocket picked, -his character injured, or his mind contaminated; and therefore he answered his -new companion civilly, and asked if he had come down by the train.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, Sir," replied the other; "from a fool's errand."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How so?" asked Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Seeking in London what I might have found in the country, and what I did not -find there," rejoined the stranger; "travelling up to look for that which -travelled down with me, without looking for."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I never could find out riddles in my life," said Chandos. "How hard it -rains! I did not see you on the train."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I saw you," answered the man: "I see everything."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" replied Chandos Winslow, not particularly well pleased with his -companion: "then you must see a great deal that does not please you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not much," said the other: "I am easily pleased. Did you see a green chariot -behind the train, and a gentleman in it, and a vally--an Italian vagabond?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos started, and turned round, saying, "No. Whose carriage was it?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"The master of Elmsly was in it," said the man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" said Chandos. And, after a moment's thought, he added, "You seem to -know me, I think."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, yes; I know you quite well," replied the stranger. "I was in the court -when you were tried for murder."</p> - -<p class="normal">The old lady opposite gave a start, and exclaimed, "Lord a-mercy!" and -Chandos's face flushed, partly in anger, partly in shame.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A recollection of such things is not particularly pleasant to me," he -replied, sharply.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I don't see why not," answered his fellow-traveller. "You knew you were -innocent, and you proved it to the jury. If it should be unpleasant to anybody, -it is to those who accused you, and to the man who committed the murder, and -would have let you be hanged for it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos made no answer, but fell into thought; and full half-an-hour passed -without a word being spoken. At length the young gentleman inquired, "Are you of -the town of S----?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," answered the other; "I do not live in a town, I live in the country; -but I happened to be there that day by accident, and I went into the court to -see what was going on. It was wonderful hot; but yet I stayed it out, though I -thought I should have been suffocated."</p> - -<p class="normal">Another long pause succeeded; the man seemed determined to hunt down a -subject the most disagreeable for Chandos to pursue; and therefore the young -gentleman refrained from all further conversation till the coach stopped to -change horses, near a spot where a road branched off towards Winslow Abbey. -There Chandos alighted, and ordered his portmanteau to be carried up to a -bed-room in the neat little road-side inn. The old lady and the stout, -yellow-faced traveller, proceeded on their way together; and Chandos ordered -some refreshment, preparatory to a long walk which he contemplated.</p> - -<p class="normal">While the mutton-chop was in preparation, and he was taking out some -necessary articles from his portmanteau, the thick veil of clouds which covered -the sky became of a paler grey, and then, towards the westward, where a wide -open country extended before the windows of the inn, the edge of the vapour drew -up like a curtain, showing the yellow gleam of evening between the woods and -hedgerows in the distance. Before the young traveller's light meal was -concluded, the rain had ceased entirely, and no trace of clouds remained upon -the heaven, except some white feathery streaks of rising vapour, chequering the -fresh deep blue.</p> - -<p class="normal">Telling the people of the inn that he might not return till the following -morning, Chandos walked on, taking the narrow lane which led along the side of -the hill towards Winslow Abbey, then at the distance of about seven miles. The -sun was within half an hour of its setting; but the sweet, long twilight of the -late spring evenings was to be depended upon for many minutes after the star of -day was down, and Chandos did not wish to reach the cottage of Lockwood before -it was dark. He walked therefore calmly and somewhat slowly, now mounting, now -descending, amongst the trees and copses of the hill side, as the road pursued -its varying course. Sometimes the view was shut out by trees, and nothing was -seen but the green branches and the round silvery trunks of the old beeches, -with the rays of the setting sun stealing in amongst them, and tipping the moss -and underwood with gold; but more frequently he caught sight of the wide -extended plains to the west, lying in definite lines of purple and grey, with -the varied scenery of the hill-slope forming the foreground, the trees of the -old wood tossed here and there amongst the yellow, broken banks, and every now -and then part of the outline of a cottage or small country-house contrasting its -straight forms with the wavey lines of the landscape, and bringing in images of -social life amongst the wildness of uncultivated nature.</p> - -<p class="normal">The sun was more than half down; but a bright spot of gold upon the edge of -the horizon, with one line of dark cloud drawn across it, still poured forth a -flood of splendour, when a little turn of the road brought Chandos nearly in -front of a human habitation. It was a simple little cottage, of two stories -high, with a row of green paling before it, a little garden in front, and two -doors, one in the centre, and the other at the side leading probably to the -kitchen. It was built upon the extreme verge of the steep bank, so that there -seemed no exit behind; and the road spread out wide before, under a cliffy piece -of the hill, which seemed to have been scooped out by man's hands, probably for -sand or gravel. It was a sequestered little nook; and, in the green evening -light, as it streamed through the trees, looked as peaceful an abode as a weary -heart could well desire.</p> - -<p class="normal">The pleasant tranquillity of the scene had apparently attracted another -person, besides the inhabitants of the cottage, to make a temporary sojourn -there; for, underneath the high bank just opposite, was a stream of silver-gray -smoke rising up against the cliff, and curling in amongst the trees which topped -it; and below was seen the dilapidated tin-kettle from which it proceeded, with -an old man blowing hard into the hole where once a spout had been. A number of -pots and pans lay around, and a wallet was cast upon the ground hard by. The old -man whistled a wild air in time as he blew, and his face was turned rather -towards the house than his work, so that Chandos had a full view of his -features. It required not two looks to bring to his recollection the travelling -tinker, who had conducted him to the gipsey encampment on his first visit to -Northferry.</p> - -<p class="normal">Walking up to him with a smile, the young gentleman asked if he remembered -him; and the old man, laughing, winked his eye, answering, in his peculiar -cracked voice, "Aye, do I, master gardener. Do you want food, and drink, and -information to-day, as you did the last time we met?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Food and drink I can dispense with to-day," replied Chandos; "but a little -information would not be amiss. Can you tell me, my good friend, where I can -find Sally Stanley."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can find her myself," answered the tinker; "that is to say, I could find -her if I could quit this; but I mustn't."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Indeed!" said Chandos, in some surprise: "why not? I suppose you will go -before night; for you have not got even a tent here to cover you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That's nothing," answered the gipsey; "I shall be here all night, unless -some one comes to relieve me, as they call it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, are you on guard, then?" asked Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I'm on watch, and that is as good," replied the tinker, winking his eye, and -looking towards the house.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who are you watching there, then?" demanded the young gentleman; but the old -man only grinned, and made no reply for a minute or two, till Chandos repeated -his question.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very likely!" said the tinker; "don't you think I'll tell you, master? I'm -watching some one who will not come out in a hurry while I am here; and when I'm -gone, there will be another, and when he's gone, another, till we starve the rat -out of his hole, or at all events find out if he is in it. But you have nothing -to do with that. You are not one of us, you know. You've your own trade, and -that's a gardener's. Stick to that."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I've given that up sometime, as I think you know," answered Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Aye, may be, may be," said the old tinker; "I've heard something of it. But -what is it you want to say to Sally Stanley? Do you want your new fortune told? -She is the rarest hand amongst them for that. Never was such a one; for she is -always right, one way or another: and our people think she has got a spirit that -tells her all that is going to happen, at those times when she gets into her -tantarums and goes about amongst the dead men's graves and that. I would not -bide her curse for a great deal. It fell hard upon poor Harry Chambers; for you -know he was sent over the water for life, just three months after. But what do -you want with her?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, that is my business," answered Chandos; "only you tell her I am down -here again, and will speak to her when she likes. I have a good many things to -say that she may wish to hear; and she has something to say to me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But where shall she look for you?" asked the tinker. "Though I dare say she -knows well enough; for she knows everything."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is better to make sure," replied the young gentleman; "so let her know -that I shall be at Lockwood's cottage to-night, and be gone by day-break. I -shall then be at my place at Northferry, for a day or two, or between that and -S----; and then, perhaps, over at Elmsly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I shan't see her to-night," said the tinker; "for she is a good way off; and -Garon comes up when I am to go. After that I'll find her out.--But look, -look--quietly, quietly! Don't you see a man in there, at the back of the little -parlour--a man with a round face and a pair of green spectacles?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, I do," said Chandos; "now that they have opened that window at the back -to let the light in, I see a man there; but I cannot well see what he is like."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Use your young eyes well," said the tinker; "and tell me if he has not a -round, red face, and a pair of green spectacles on, and a flaxen wig, and a -cravat high up about his chin--why, I can see the spectacles myself."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So do I now," said Chandos. But the next moment the front window was shut, -and all further view into the interior of the room cut off. Chandos mused. He -had more than once, as a native of a well-wooded country greatly frequented by -gipsies, remarked the extraordinary knowledge which that curious race of -wanderers acquire of all that is passing in their neighbourhood, and had -wondered how they arrived at their information. The uses which they put it to -when gained was more evident; but he knew not till that night, and indeed few do -know the marvellous pains which gipsies often take to find out minute and -apparently insignificant facts, and the no less wonderful skill with which they -combine them when obtained, and draw deductions from them, generally approaching -very close to the truth. Sometimes they have an object, and sometimes none; for -curiosity by habit becomes a passion with them. But in the present instance -there was evidently some end in view; and Chandos, from various circumstances, -felt inclined to inquire further ere he proceeded.</p> - -<p class="normal">Following the same train of combinations which a gipsey would most likely -have followed, suspicions were excited which he longed to turn into certainties; -and after thinking over the matter for a time, he said, "And so, my good friend, -the gentleman with the round, red face and green spectacles is hidden down here, -is he?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did not say he was hidden," answered the tinker, instantly upon his guard.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You said what amounts to the same thing," replied Chandos; "for you told me -he would not come out as long as you were here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Aye; that may be for fear of having his bones broke," said the other; "you -know, we don't easily forgive them who offend us."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come, come; I am not to be put upon the wrong scent," replied Chandos. -"Sally Stanley told me something of this before; but I did not think she would -have found out his hiding-place so soon."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, what does she know of it?" asked the tinker, with the most natural air -in the world; "you are out in your guesses, master gardener. You can't come over -an old cove like me. If you know anything of the gemman, go and ring the bell, -and ask if Mr. Wilson's at home. I dare say he'll see <i>you</i>;" and the old man -laid a strong emphasis on the last word.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is it a Mr. Wilson who lives there, then?" asked Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">The gipsey nodded his head, and Chandos, saying, "It is not a bad plan," -walked straight up to the little gate, and rang the bell. The gipsey put his -tongue in his cheek, and winked his eye; but the next moment a maidservant came -to the door of the house, and, without approaching the garden-gate, inquired, in -a flippant tone, "What do you want, young man?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is Mr. Wilson at home?" demanded Chandos, not at all expecting that the girl -would admit the residence of such a person there. To his surprise, however, she -answered, more civilly than at first, "No, Sir; he's gone to town."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But I saw him in that room, a minute or two ago," replied the young -gentleman.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lord, Sir, no," said the maid; "that is his father, the old gentleman who is -ill with a quinsy, and don't see any one. Master has been in London this week. -He'll be down o' Thursday."</p> - -<p class="normal">Convinced that his suspicions had led him wrong, Chandos turned away, and saw -the old tinker laughing heartily. It is not pleasant to be laughed at, as the -sapient reader is probably aware. But laughers sometimes lose; and in this -instance the half-crown which had been destined for the old man remained in -Chandos's pocket: not that it was kept there by any feeling of anger on his -part; but because the young gentleman was not inclined to face the merriment his -disappointment had created, he turned away, and walked straight on in the -direction of Winslow Abbey.</p> - -<p class="normal">Night fell when he was at the distance of three miles from the park; and, -hurrying his pace, he soon after stood before the gates of tall, hammered -iron-work, erected more than two centuries before. The great gates were chained -and padlocked; but the lesser one, at the side, was open, and Chandos entered -the park where he had played in boyhood, with a bitter feeling at his heart, -when he thought that all his efforts might not be able to prevent it passing -away from his name and race for ever.</p> - -<p class="normal">He followed the path which he had trod every Sunday during his mother's life, -from the Abbey to the parish church, and back; and at the distance of about -half-a-mile from the gates, he caught sight of the mansion. There was a single, -solitary light in one of the windows, shining faint, like the last hope in his -breast; and as he advanced it flitted along the whole range, till at length, at -the further extreme, it blazed brighter, as if several candles had been suddenly -lighted. At the same time, turning to the right, the young gentleman took the -path which led away to the house of his half-brother. The park seemed to him -even more melancholy than when last he visited it. It had a more deserted -feeling to his mind. It was to be sold; and yet for all that he clung to it the -more. If it had cost him his right hand, he would have kept it. As we attach -ourselves the more fondly to a friend in distress, so he held more firmly by the -old place he loved, because those who ought to have loved it likewise, abandoned -it.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Would that my father had left it to me!" he repeated to himself more than -once. "Had it been nought but the Abbey and the Park, I would have worked the -flesh from my bones to keep it up. But it is gone--gone! and the hope is vain -they hold out to me. I feel it, I know it!"</p> - -<p class="normal">With such melancholy thoughts he walked on, through the chestnut-wood, all in -green leaf, across the ferny savannah, where the deer lay thick, amongst the old -hawthorn trees, loading the air with aromatic balm. He approached the park wall, -and saw, by the clear gray light sent before the yet invisible moon, the -enclosure round the house of Lockwood, and the house itself--a dark, black mass, -upon the silvery eastern sky. Yet the trees and shrubs in the garden before the -windows caught another ray, and in long beamy lines the misty light poured forth -from the lozenge panes of the casements. Chandos opened the little garden gate -and went in; but as he approached the door, he heard voices speaking, and even -laughter, very dissonant to his ear. He was in no mood for merry company: there -were few people he could wish to meet, and many he would not meet; and ere he -gave any indication of his presence, he walked along the path before the windows -and looked in, to ascertain who were the guests within. Before him, with his -back to the casement, the neat white dimity curtain of which was not drawn, -appeared the tall, powerful frame of Lockwood himself, while a bowl of smoking -punch stood upon the table before him, and his hand was stretched out, armed -with a curious, old-fashioned ladle, which he was dipping in the fragrant -compound, to supply the glass which another person opposite was holding out -towards him. In the face of that other person, which was turned towards the -window, Chandos instantly recognized the handsome but too delicate features of -Faber. Lockwood filled the glass to the brim, and then raised his own, already -full, exclaiming so loud that the words were heard without, "Here's to him, -then. Health to our good brother Chandos: may God grant him his rights, and send -confusion to those who would wrong him!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos waited to hear no more, but approaching the door of the house, was -about to ring the bell. A peal of laughter, not from Lockwood's lips, though -with a far more joyous sound than he had ever before heard those of Faber utter, -made the visitor pause for a moment; and then with a sudden and somewhat -impatient movement, he lifted the latch, and entered unannounced.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLI.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">As Chandos extended one hand to Faber and the other to Lockwood, he remarked -that the cheek of the former was a good deal flushed, and his eye more bright -and sparkling than usual. The bowl of strong punch on the table was nearly -empty, and the deduction was evident. Lockwood's strong head and strong frame -had resisted the effects of his potations; but Faber, though not at all drunk, -was a good deal excited.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Welcome, welcome back!" said Lockwood. "I was just going to write you a -letter, ending after Mrs. Penelope's fashion--'Nil mihi rescribas attamen ipse -veni.' You have come at the very nick of time, Chandos; for here Mr. Faber has -been telling me things which prove that your father was not so unkindly -negligent of you as you have supposed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"For that, I am thankful," answered Chandos, "even if no other result take -place. What is it, Faber? Let me hear."</p> - -<p class="normal">Lockwood's eyes were fixed upon the countenance of the young man to whom Mr. -Winslow spoke; and he saw the timid, hesitating look, which was its habitual -expression, steal over it again. "Come, Faber, you and Chandos finish the punch -between you," he said; "I have had enough."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And so have I too," answered Faber. But he suffered Lockwood to fill his -glass again, and drank it off at once. The effect was quick. He reflected, -perhaps, that what he had just said he could not unsay; and at all events, the -punch gave him courage to repeat it. The manner was diffuse and circumlocutory, -it is true; and where there was an opportunity of putting anything in a doubtful -manner, by a change in the mood of the verb, from the direct indicative to the -potential, he never failed to do so; but the substance of the story was as -follows.--"He had seen, read, and copied," he said, "the will, to which the -memorandum found by Mr. Roberts referred. The late Sir Harry Winslow, who had -ordered him to copy it, had kept the transcript; but he recollected the whole -particulars. To himself, an annuity of four hundred a year had been left, -chargeable upon the Winslow Abbey estate. The whole of that property, with the -Abbey and all that it contained, had been left to Chandos. The Elmsly property -had been assigned to his brother, as well as the whole personal property, with -the exception of four thousand pounds to Lockwood, in lieu of all other claims, -and a few legacies to servants."</p> - -<p class="normal">There the young man paused; and Lockwood, after having given him a little -time to proceed, if he pleased, exclaimed, "Go on, Mr. Faber; you have not half -done! Remember about the burning of the will."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did not say he burned the will," cried Faber, turning white; "I only said -he burned a good many papers just after Sir Harry's death. I saw him, as I was -looking out of my window at Elmsly, which is just in the corner, near the -strong-room. What they were, I do not know."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then he burned papers in the strong-room?" said Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, Mr. Winslow," replied Faber, "that he certainly did. Three or four, I -saw him burn, with a great iron chest open before him; he held them to the -candle one after the other, and then threw them down on the stone floor, and -watched them till they went out. But, mind, I do not know what they were. I -never said that any one of them was the will."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Of course, you could not do so, Faber," replied Chandos; "for I know the -position of the two rooms well; and you could not at that distance see what the -papers were."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, I could not see," reiterated Faber.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nevertheless," said Chandos, gravely, "what you did see, and what you do -know, is so important, that I must request to have it in writing."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh no, indeed, I cannot, Mr. Winslow," said the young man, very pale, "Why, -if Sir William Winslow were to know, what would happen? You will not ask me, I -am sure."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Be quite sure, Faber, not only that I will ask; but that I will insist," -answered Chandos, with a frown. "Let me have pen and ink, Lockwood, and we will -have this down at once. My good friend, you have no choice. You have made a -statement this night which you will soon have to repeat in a court of justice. -Now your fault, Faber, is timidity: that timidity might lead you to gloss over -or attempt to conceal facts in court, which would be speedily wrung from you by -cross-examination, and you would be put to shame, But by insisting upon your -signing the account you have given, I guard you against yourself; for you will -have no motive for hesitation or concealment. You must there state what you have -here stated, without a consideration of the consequences."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I cannot, indeed I cannot," exclaimed Faber, trembling violently.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Faber, I insist," replied Chandos; "I did not think that you, whom I have so -often befriended, so often protected, would refuse to do a simple act of justice -in my favour, out of regard for a man comparatively a stranger to you. Write -down his words, Lockwood, as well as you can recollect them. They shall then be -read over to him, that he may sign them."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, Mr. Winslow, I did not think you would do this," cried Faber; "you know -what a terrible man Sir William is."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Write, Lockwood, write," cried Chandos, his lip slightly curling with -contempt. But Faber started up from the table, saying in a more resolute tone -than he had hitherto used, "It is of no use, I will not sign it, I will go."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos, however, threw himself between him and the door, locked it, and took -out the key. "Your pardon, Mr. Faber," he said; "you do not go. You stay here, -and sign the statement you have just made, or if you go, you go in custody."</p> - -<p class="normal">"In custody?" exclaimed the young man, his eyes staring wildly with fear.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, Sir," answered Chandos; "in custody, on a charge of being accessory to -the destruction of my father's will, which, allow me to tell you, is a felony. -Sir William Winslow may be a very violent man, but you will find that his -brother is a very resolute one."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, Mr. Winslow, I am sure you would not do such a thing," cried Faber.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You will see in two minutes," replied Chandos sternly. "When Lockwood has -finished the paper, you shall have your choice. You either sign it, or he -fetches a constable. In the mean while, sit down; for I am in no humour to be -trifled with."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man cast himself on his chair, covering his eyes with his hand. -Lockwood wrote rapidly; and in about ten minutes the short statement he drew up -was finished. He then read it aloud, pausing upon each sentence; and Chandos, -satisfied that it was substantially the same as the account which Faber had -himself given, placed it before him, saying, "There is pen and ink."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man hesitated for more than a minute; and then Chandos withdrew the -paper from before him, and turned to Lockwood, saying coldly, "Fetch the -constable, Lockwood. I will guard him till you return."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stop, stop," cried Faber; "I will sign it. Only give me a little time. You -should have put in, that I was accidentally looking out of my window that -night."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Put it in yourself above," answered Lockwood, handing him the pen.</p> - -<p class="normal">Faber took it, and made the alteration he proposed; then paused and hesitated -again, but in the end wrote his name rapidly at the bottom.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And now, Faber," said Chandos, laying his hand kindly on his shoulder, "you -will yourself have more peace of mind. Depend upon it, the only way to preserve -a man's dignity of character, his peace, and self-respect, is to do what he -knows is right, perfectly careless of consequences. You were aware that I had -been wronged. You had the means of assisting me to regain my right, and that, by -only making a declaration which you were bound in honour and justice to make. -You should, indeed, have made it before; but I forgive your not having done so, -because I know you are afraid of a man whose violence gives him anything but a -claim to respect."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why I should gain more than lose," said the weak young man, bursting into -tears; "if you could prove this other will, I should have two hundred a year -more than by the other; so you must see it was not my own interest I was -consulting, Mr. Winslow."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, you were consulting nothing but your fears, Faber," said Chandos; "and -those fears of Sir William Winslow, depend upon it, are quite vain and foolish. -He has no power over you; he can do nought to injure you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How I shall ever meet him again, when he comes hack, I know not," answered -Faber, with a melancholy shake of the head.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He Is back already," replied Chandos; "at least, I am told so."</p> - -<p class="normal">The young man started off his chair at this announcement, actually as if some -one had fired a pistol at him; but while he was gazing in Mr. Winslow's face -with a look of terror almost ludicrous, some one shook the door of Lockwood's -house, and Faber darted away into the inner room, as if he thought that it could -be none other than the man he so much dreaded.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who is there?" asked Lockwood.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is I, Sir," answered the voice of Garbett, the keeper; and, at a sign -from Chandos, Lockwood opened the door, saying, "What is it, Garbett?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The man started at beholding Chandos Winslow, and exclaimed, "Bless me, Sir, -is that you? Well, Sir, I am glad to see you, now I know who you are. Why I -taught you to shoot when you were a young lad at Eton."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am very glad to see you," answered Chandos; "but you wanted to tell -Lockwood something."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, Sir, it is a night of surprises," said Garbett: "your brother, Sir -William, arrived at the Abbey about an hour ago. We have been looking for Mr. -Faber everywhere, and can't find him; and so he sent me down to tell Mr. -Lockwood that he wants to see him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If he wants me, he must come down to seek me," said Lockwood, bluntly. "I -want nothing with him; and therefore shall not go near him. Just tell him what I -say, Garbett. He knows me well enough, and won't expect any civil messages."</p> - -<p class="normal">While Lockwood had been giving this answer, Chandos Winslow had remained with -his arms crossed upon his chest, his teeth set fast, and his lips compressed. -There was a great struggle going on in his breast. The feelings of indignation -which had been raised against his brother were very strong. He did not -comprehend that it was vindictive pride, rather than avarice, which had made Sir -William Winslow destroy his father's will--the desire of triumphing over, and -trampling upon, a brother who had offended him, rather than the love of mere -money; he called the transaction pitiful, as well as base; and when Garbett -entered, Chandos was resolved, without pause, to expose the whole in a court of -justice, at all risks. But, as the man spoke, gentler emotions arose--feelings -strong, though tender. He remembered early days. He hesitated, though he did not -yield. He asked himself, "Is there not a middle course?" and before the keeper -could reply to Lockwood, he said aloud, "I will go up to him myself;" and he -moved towards the door.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Think twice, think twice," said Lockwood, laying his hand upon his arm.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No; I am resolved," said Chandos, in a sad, but determined tone. "We will -meet once more as brothers, before we meet as adversaries. I will forget for the -time there is ought within his bosom but kindred blood, and a brother's spirit. -I will entreat, I will persuade, I will argue, as a last resource before I am -driven to menace and to act. I will try what reason will do, in order to escape -a course, the results of which I dread to think of."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well," said Lockwood; "well, it is the right way; but he does not deserve -it, and no good will come of it."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos made no reply, but walked out into the park, and took his way, with a -quick step, towards the Abbey.</p> - -<p class="normal">"We had better go after him at once, Garbett," said Lockwood; "there is no -knowing what may follow. They are both sharp spirits; and I should not wonder if -there were blood shed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lord, Mr. Lockwood, I hope not," cried the keeper; "but let us be after him, -then; for it is as well to be near to part them in case of need."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It might be difficult to part them," answered Lockwood; "but come along;" -and taking up his hat, he accompanied the keeper into the park, leaving Faber, -still trembling with apprehension, in the inner room of the cottage.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLII.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">In the large drawing-room at Winslow Abbey, with four tallow candles on the -table, to give some light to its great extent, stood Sir William Winslow, his -brow heavy with thought, his cheek pale, and his eye haggard with anxiety. The -gloomy room, the faded hangings of dull crimson velvet, which seemed to drink in -all the rays of light and give none back again, the many memories with which the -place was stored, the solitary aspect of the nearly deserted mansion, the -melancholy sighing of the wind through its courts and corridors, tended not to -raise the spirit in a heart already depressed by crime. He had sent his valet to -Elmsly, glad to be freed from his oppressive presence, and had come on alone, -full of bitter and even angry fancies. The worm that never dies was in his -heart, the fire that cannot be quenched consumed his brain. He had given way to -an intemperate burst of passion at not finding Faber there waiting to receive -him, though the young man knew not of his coming; but when he had sent Garbett -out to find Lockwood, and he remained alone in that wide room, his feelings -became more gloomy and less fierce, his heart sunk, to think of what he was, and -of what he might yet become.</p> - -<p class="normal">The memories of pleasant childhood, too, of innocence, if not of peace, (for -he had been turbulent from his infancy,) came back in mournful contrast with the -present, when peace and innocence were gone together, when nought remained but -bitter anxiety, and corroding fear, and dark remorse. It was well nigh despair -he felt.</p> - -<p class="normal">Yet there was something like a gleam of sunshine upon the long, long past -which made him fix his eyes by preference upon it. He thought of the young days -when he had sported in that room, piled up the chairs into castles, or built -himself houses with the sofa cushions. He saw his father's stately form stand -gazing at him with pride; he beheld his mother sit and watch him with affection; -he knew that both had looked forward with expectation of high things to his -future career; he asked himself where were these hopes? how were they fulfilled? -Gone, gone, with those days of childhood, with those innocent sports, with the -calm of infancy, with the fleeting ills of boyhood. Gone for ever--a bar between -them and fruition, which no repentance could ever remove, no reformation ever do -away.</p> - -<p class="normal">He took a candle from the table, and held it up to the large picture of his -mother, gazing earnestly upon features which had almost faded from memory. -Suddenly his eye fell upon a ticket in the corner, marked, "Lot 60;" and he -exclaimed, "Good God! was I going to sell that? No, that must not be sold!" And -taking the ticket, he tore it from the frame.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next instant there was a timid knock at the door, and he said, in a -milder voice than usual, "Come in."</p> - -<p class="normal">It was the keeper Garbett's wife, with something like a letter in her hand; -which, advancing many curtsies, she presented to Sir William.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who was it gave you this?" asked the baronet, taking a curiously folded -piece of vellum from her hand.</p> - -<p class="normal">"A strange-looking man, Sir," she said, "gave it in at the door: more like a -corpse than a living man."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You may go," said Sir William Winslow, without opening the letter, which he -conceived to be some law paper, connected perhaps with the relations regarding -property between his brother and himself; and when she was gone he paused a -moment, in thought. Whatever were his meditations, they ended by his exclaiming, -"No! Curse me if he shall! It is unfair and unjust. I am the eldest son; and he -had no right to have it. I will fight it out to the last penny I have."</p> - -<p class="normal">As he spoke, he tore open the letter hastily. What was his surprise to find -that the few lines it contained were written in blood-red ink, and in a fine, -clear, steady female hand. He held it to the candle and read the following -words:--</p> - -<p class="normal">"William Winslow, alive or dead, meet me on Thursday at your father's grave -in the churchyard of Elmsly, at midnight. Fail not, or I will come to fetch you.</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 60%">"<span class="sc">Susan Grey</span>."</p> -<br> - -<p class="normal">He let the parchment fall from his hand, and gazed at it as it lay upon the -floor with a wild and straining eye. No one had scoffed more loudly at all -superstitions--no one in his life and conduct had shown a more practical contempt -for the very idea of supernatural visitations. But his nerves were shaken by -remorse and apprehension. Terror and anxiety had enlisted fancy on their side. -He knew the handwriting well; he believed that no one was aware of his return to -England; he thought that the hand which must have traced those lines had long -been consigned to the grave. Hardihood, and firmness, and the powers of reason, -gave way together; and the fierce, firm, proud Sir William Winslow, trembled in -every limb. He called it a fraud--an absurd, a ludicrous invention, an idle -deceit, a scheme only fit to frighten a child. But yet he gazed upon the -parchment, yet his limbs shook; notwithstanding every effort, yet his heart -sunk; and he thought of the injured and the dead; he thought of his violated -promises, his unfeeling abandonment, his brutal repulse of the prayer for mercy -and support; and he felt, ay, he felt in the heart of the spirit, that if ever -the dead are permitted to revisit earth and warn those who have wronged them of -approaching retribution, his was a case in which such an awful interruption of -the ordinary laws that govern all things might well take place: in short, that -he had called upon himself a special curse, and might well expect a special -punishment.</p> - -<p class="normal">Ere he could nerve himself to throw off the first dark impression, the door -opened suddenly; and with a fearful start Sir William Winslow sank into a chair. -The next instant his brother stood before him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What brings you here?" cried the baronet, recovering himself the next -moment; "what brings you to this house? I thought, Sir, we had parted not to -meet again."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You were mistaken, Sir William," answered Chandos, shutting the door behind -him. "Events have taken place since we parted which render our meeting again -necessary. When I left you, I told you I would never enter your house again; but -in coming hither I only come to my own."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Your own!" exclaimed Sir William; "what do you mean? Have you gone mad?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Far from it, my brother," answered Chandos, taking a chair and seating -himself before him; "let us not begin, William, with violence and altercation. -What may result from our conversation, God knows; but let it, at all events, -commence with calmness. That I bear you no ill will, you ought to feel; for when -your life was in my power I spared it: nay, I spare it still."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is false," cried Sir William Winslow; "you have no power over my life; -you never have had. It was your own was in danger."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos commanded himself: "You are very foolish to believe," he said, "that -deeds such as you have done, can ever be done in perfect secrecy. Two words -spoken by me at <i>my</i> trial for <i>your</i> crime, would have brought forward such a -mass of evidence against you, that by no subtlety could you have escaped. I saw -you strike the blow--ay, and repeat it, as the old man fell; but my testimony -would have been of little avail, perhaps, unless corroborated. But corroboration -was not wanting. There were other eyes that saw you go down with him; there were -other ears that heard your angry words; there were those too who saw you return; -there were persons who watched your agitation, and your wild whirling -conversation, and drew the right deduction. But, more than all, in your case -there was a motive for the deed, which explained all, and rendered it more -horrible. Shall I tell you what that motive was?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow sat silent, with his eyes bent down upon the floor; and -after a pause, Chandos went on. "You learned that night, that your victim had -discovered you had burnt your father's will to wrong your brother; he taxed you -with it; and you killed him!--Be silent!--Do not deny it; but listen to me. I have -the proofs, strong and speaking proofs, of the crime with which he charged you, -as well as of the other. I know every item of the will, each legacy that it -contained; and I know, moreover, what is of greater importance still--the very -moment, and the very place at which you destroyed it. Shall I tell you where and -when? In the strong room at Elmsly, on the night after my father's death. Alone, -and with the door closed, you thought no eyes saw you; but you were mistaken. -Everything that you did was observed by one competent to bear witness of the -facts, and I now ask you, William Winslow, whether you will drive me to bring -forward that witness in a court of justice? For, of one thing be perfectly -assured, that Winslow Abbey shall not be sold; and that you shall do me justice, -either voluntarily, or by compulsion."</p> - -<p class="normal">He spoke slowly; and during the time that he did speak his brother's hardy -and resolute spirit had leisure to recover itself, and prepare for resistance,</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are violent, I see, as ever. But let me inform you that you are -mistaken--mistaken, first, as to your facts, and secondly as to the person you -have to deal with. Do you not know, Sir," he continued, changing his whole -manner, and assuming the stern and overbearing tone more natural to him: "do you -not know that I am not a man to be bullied or insulted with impunity?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I neither bully nor insult you, Sir William Winslow," replied his brother; -"I tell you plain and undeniable facts. I do so in order that you may spare -yourself and me the pain of forcing me, much against my will, to compel the -concession of my just demands."</p> - -<p class="normal">"And pray what are your sweet demands?" asked Sir William Winslow, with his -lip curling.</p> - -<p class="normal">"The execution of my father's last will," answered Chandos. "If your memory -fail you as to the particulars, I can refresh it from a paper in my pocket."</p> - -<p class="normal">A momentary shade of hesitation appeared upon the face of Sir William -Winslow; but it passed away again immediately, and he answered boldly, "The only -will, Sir, that your father left has been proved, and is in course of execution. -In that I find no right or title given to you to interfere with the disposal of -Winslow Abbey; and I rather imagine you will think twice, before you afford the -world the disgraceful spectacle of a younger brother attempting to dispossess -the elder of his patrimonial property."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You did not go to Elmsly, I perceive, Sir William," said Chandos, "or you -would have discovered, before now, that such calculations upon my forbearance -are erroneous. When you do go there, you will find a notice in due form, not to -proceed with the pretended sale of that which is not yours; and probably a -letter from Lord Overton, to tell you that he has received my protest against -the whole transaction between you and him, regarding Winslow Abbey."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You have not done it," cried Sir William, starting up.</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are mistaken; I have!" replied Chandos, firmly; "I have taken the first -step in a course which I will tread unremittingly to the end--if I am driven to -do so. But I beg of you, I beseech you, to think of the consequences, and to -spare me the pain. Remember, I entreat, what must be proved in the course of -such a suit. I shall have to prove," he continued, "that poor Roberts discovered -in the drawer of the library here, a memorandum in my father's own handwriting, -of having given a signed copy of the will to you. I shall have to prove, by the -same witnesses, who were present when that memorandum was found, that he came -over in haste to Northferry, to bear me the important information; and that he -was murdered before he reached me. I shall have to prove that he believed that -you had burned the will: perhaps I shall have to prove, also, that he told you -so as you stood together by the fish-pond at Northferry, the moment before his -death."</p> - -<p class="normal">His voice sunk almost to a whisper as he spoke; and a livid paleness spread -over Sir William Winslow's face.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos thought he had produced some effect, and he went on more eagerly. -"Oh, William!" he said, "consider, and do what is right; for the sake of our -father's and our mother's memory; for the sake of the honour of our name and -race--for your own sake, if not for mine, do me justice. Remember, O remember, -that even to save my own life I would not peril yours; that I abandoned and -would not use the plain, straightforward defence which would have freed me from -danger and anxiety in a moment; that I would not be a witness against a brother; -that I would not bring an accusation against you, even to cast the burden from -myself--an accusation which, once made, would have been supported by a thousand -other facts--by the testimony of her who heard you speaking with poor Roberts, by -the testimony of those who saw you walking with him, by the evidence of the man -who witnessed your return to the house, by that of your own servants, who must -have seen things which could leave no doubt."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William sank into his chair again, and grasped the arm tight, but made no -answer.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Remember that I forbore," continued Chandos; "and do me simple justice. But -hear why I forbore:--I believed that you struck the fatal blow under the -influence of blind and headlong passion; but I knew that a jury would not take -that into account, when they found the crime committed tended to cover another -crime. I think so still: I do believe, I do trust that with time for thought, -that with any pause for consideration, you would not deliberately have brought -that old man's gray hair to the dust, even to hide the wrong that you did me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did you no wrong," muttered Sir William Winslow; "this is my patrimonial -inheritance. You have no right to it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You know at this moment," answered Chandos; "that my father left it to me, -because he was well aware that you do not value it as I do."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow set his teeth hard, and said from between them, in a low, -bitter voice, "You shall never possess it!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is that your last word upon the subject," asked Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow nodded his head, and answered, slowly and deliberately, -"The very last."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then there is no resource," said the young gentleman, in a tone more of -sadness than irritation; and turning to the door he left the room.</p> - -<p class="normal">A few steps down the corridor, he found Lockwood and the keeper standing -together, silent; but he was too much agitated by all that had taken place to -think of the motives which brought them there.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Come, Lockwood," he said, in a low voice; "it is all in vain. He will yield -to no inducements. Where is Faber?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Down at my house still," answered Lockwood; "he is not likely to come out, -for he is as timid as a hare."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He had better not see my brother any more till after the trial," answered -Chandos. "I must go down and speak with him;" and walking hastily away with -Lockwood, he left the Abbey and crossed the park.</p> - -<p class="normal">When they entered the little front room in Lockwood's house, they found -everything exactly as they had left it, except, indeed, that the unsnuffed -candles had guttered down nearly into the sockets. When they came to try the -inner door, however, in search of Faber, they found it locked; and it was only -when the young man heard the voices of Chandos and his half-brother calling to -him, that he ventured to speak or come forth. Even then he was in a terrible -state of agitation; and his first words were, "Oh, Mr. Winslow, I cannot, I dare -not go up to the Abbey, or see your brother."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not think it necessary or right that you should," replied Chandos. "You -had better come with me to the little village inn, and go over with me to S---- -to-morrow. You can thence write to Sir William, informing him that you have made -up your mind to tell the whole truth regarding the will."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I won't date the letter," said Faber; "and if you stay long at S----, depend -upon it he will come over, and find us out."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sad as he was, Chandos could not refrain a smile; but he replied, "Do not be -alarmed, I will take care no harm happens to you. Moreover, I shall only remain -in S---- a few hours with my solicitor. I shall then either go to Elmsly, to the -house of poor Mr. Roberts, as I understand his cousin, who is his executor, has -taken up his abode there for the time, or shall return to Northferry, as I find -advisable. But if I go to Elmsly, I will not ask you to go with me. Now, -Lockwood, I think I will set out for the inn; but you had better either come -over with us now, or join us early to-morrow morning; for there is much I wish -to say to you, and your presence, too, may be needed at S----."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will come now," said Lockwood; "there is no use of losing time. -<i>Carpe -diem</i>, master Chandos. Only let me leave my place safe; for these candles have -been dropping perpendiculars too long."</p> - -<p class="normal">Thus saying, he bolted the windows in both the rooms, shut and locked the -front door, extinguished the lights, and then led his two guests out by the back -door into the lane which ran under the park wall.</p> - -<p class="normal">The walk through the narrow and tortuous roads passed nearly in silence; for -Chandos was sad, as well as thoughtful; and Lockwood, though somewhat curious to -know what had taken place between the brothers, did not like to inquire, -especially in the presence of Faber. Nor was it a subject on which Chandos could -venture to speak. He saw and knew that Lockwood entertained suspicions in regard -to his brother's share in the death of poor Roberts, which were but too just; -but he could not tell him the words which had passed between himself and Sir -William Winslow, without confirming those suspicions--without converting them -into certainties. He did not choose to do so. He had resolved indeed to let -events take their course; to claim his own boldly; and if discovery and -destruction fell on him who opposed his right, to let it fall; but not by any -spontaneous act of his to move the tottering rock which hung impending over a -brother's head.</p> - -<p class="normal">They arrived at the inn; they sat down in a small, neat, cheerful room; but -still they remained silent, till at length Faber rose, saying he was tired, and -would go to bed. As soon as he had retired, Chandos saw questions hanging upon -Lockwood's lips; but he stopped them at once in his usual bold and decided way.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ask nothing, Lockwood," he said, before the other spoke. "My brother is -resolute: so am I. What passed between us must rest between us. My plan at -present is to go over to S----; and after seeing my solicitor there, to proceed -with him perhaps to Elmsly, where I hope to find some confirmation of the facts -of my case. Indeed there may be, not unlikely, a draft of the will. You must -make a formal statement of all you know regarding the memorandum; we must induce -Faber to do the same; and when we have collected all the information which is to -be procured, I will lay it before counsel, and proceed as they advise. Let us -now to bed; for I would fain set out to-morrow as soon after dawn as possible; -for this is a business in which no time must be lost."</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLIII.</h4> - -<p class="normal">"Hist! hist!" cried a small voice, as Chandos Winslow was walking along in -the cool of the early morning, with Lockwood on one side and Faber on the other, -towards the nearest place to Winslow Abbey where post-horses were to be -obtained. They were in the wood, clothing the side of the hill through which he -had passed on the preceding evening; and though the path was wide, and the trees -far apart, with no underwood, he looked about in vain for the body whence the -sounds proceeded. Still, however, the voice cried, "Hist! hist!" and in a minute -after, a boy slid down the boll of one of the large trees, and, running forward, -sprang affectionately into Chandos's arms.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, Tim, my little man, you here?" cried the young gentleman. "How came you -to be playing truant so far from Northferry?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am not playing truant," replied the boy. "My mother took me; because she -said that it should be me who served you, and good old General Tracy. She wants -to see you very much; but would not go away. You will find her on there; but I -must go up the tree again to look out."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is she before the cottage, a quarter of a mile on?" asked Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no!" said the boy. "Go forward till you see a straw on the branches, on -the left; then you will come to two others, and then to three. Whistle where the -three straws are, and she'll come. Good bye, good bye!" and running away again, -he climbed up the tree like a squirrel.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He's a nice lad," said Lockwood: "'tis a pity!"--but he left -<i>the what</i> -unexplained, and the party walked on, looking carefully on the left for the -signs which the boy had mentioned. The first straw, however, must have escaped -their notice; for they came to the two, without having perceived it; and the -three were found not far on. But Chandos had no occasion to give the signal; for -he had hardly seen the place, when Sally Stanley was before him. She looked worn -and ill; but her large, dark eyes had lost none of their wild lustre; and she -exclaimed as soon as she beheld him, "Ah! you have come: I knew you would come. -Fate would have it so. And you too, Lockwood: you are a hard man; but you do not -mean ill. But, who is this white-faced thing? and what is he fit for?"</p> - -<p class="normal">She looked full at Faber as she spoke; but Lockwood took upon him to reply, -saying, "Ay, my good girl, I'm not so hard, perhaps, as you think: you made me -savage with your strange ways. After all, you were right in the main; and if you -had not stopped me, I should have spoilt all: but you should have told me what -you were about; for how could I tell? However, I am sorry for what I said. I did -not mean to act so harshly, and was sorry for it before I had gone half a mile."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Enough, enough," answered the woman: "we all do things we are sorry for;--I -have done many. But you should have stayed to listen, and I would have told you -all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You had plenty of time to tell me before that," answered Lockwood, who did -not like any one to have the last word with him. "But we were both a bit wrong; -you for keeping me, when you had no right, without any explanation; and I for -hitting you upon a sore place, without sufficient cause: so let us forget and -forgive."</p> - -<p class="normal">"So be it!" answered Sally Stanly. "You have no trust or faith; but that is -your nature."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How the devil should I have trust or faith in a set of gipsey ragamuffins, -who take me by the throat, and make a prisoner of me, without why or wherefore?" -exclaimed Lockwood. "I am a plain man, and will listen to reason, when it is -given me; but I don't like force; and will resist it to my dying day, my lass: -so don't meddle with me any more; or if you do, tell me why."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do not let us lose time in recurring to the past," said Chandos. "Your son -tells me, Sally, that you wish to speak with me; and to say truth, I wish much -to speak with you: but it must be alone. Tell me now, what you are about here, -if it be not a secret; for, to say truth, I have some suspicions that I--or -rather those I love are interested therein."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am about that, in which you must help," said the woman. "I was sure you -would come; and yet, like a fool, I doubted, and had up our own people to do the -work if you did not arrive. But they are rude hands; and though we have our own -rules, they may be rough with the man. They will not peach--they will not give -him up; but they might break his bones, or worse. You two shall do it; but you -must promise to observe our laws, and not betray him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I really do not clearly comprehend you," said Chandos. "Before I make any -promise, I must know fully what it implies."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, stay: I will go and talk to the men," said Sally Stanley; and without -waiting for reply, she darted in amongst the trees. She was absent about ten -minutes; and from time to time, Chandos could hear the murmur of speaking -voices. Neither he nor his companions uttered a word; for they had thoughts in -plenty; but they did not listen; and Lockwood whistled a tune in an under tone, -as if to pass the time. He did not know that he was whistling. At length, Sally -Stanley returned, and standing in the midst of the three, she said, "First and -foremost, you must all promise me that this man shall go free, if he does what -is right, and restores what he has taken wrongfully."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You speak ever in riddles," replied Chandos. "I know not of whom you speak."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Never mind," answered the woman: "it is a rule with us, not to betray any -one to that which you call justice--which no one should know better than -yourself, is always injustice. You must promise, that whoever and whatever he -is, you will not give him up to the vile instruments of your bad laws. You may -use the threat to frighten him; but you must do no more. I have a certain power -over those who are round me; for I know more than they do; I see further than -they do, far as they can see. But that power has a boundary, and they will -resist. If you do not promise, and keep your promise, you will repent it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I always keep my promise, when it is given," answered Chandos; "but I tell -you fairly, that if this man be, as I suspect, the person who has so basely -defrauded Mr. Tracy, he shall not escape out of England without restoring the -property he has attempted to carry off."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then, do your worst," said Sally Stanley, with a laugh; "Go and take him, if -you can! I tell you, Chandos Winslow, that it will require more skill and power -than you possess even to speak with him. One more such word as you have spoken, -and I hold my tongue for ever on the means of catching him. Do not think that -you can deal with me in such sort. For your sake, and for the sake of the old -man who has befriended my poor boy, I have watched and laboured; but I will not -be made a reproach among the people that are now my people. You must promise, or -I give you no assistance. If I give you no assistance, all your strength and -foolish wisdom are vain. In ten hours from this moment he will be beyond your -reach. The wind is in his ship's sail; the sea coast is but eight hours distant; -and you may fret yourself in vain, if you lose the present moment for the great -object you have before you."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Promise, promise!" said Lockwood. "It is better to have the deer less the -umbles, than by refusing the keeper's fee to lose the buck."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am quite willing to promise," answered Chandos, "that if he restores Mr. -Tracy's property, I will make no attempt to stay him. I am not a thief-taker; -and though I believe it would be but right to give him up to justice, and to -inquire into many of his acts more strictly; yet, as I owe all knowledge of his -abode to you, my good woman, I am ready so far to abide by your conditions. But -still, I say, if he do not give up Mr. Tracy's property, I will not let him go."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You must bargain with him for that," replied the woman; "he has got an -advantage over a man, who, like all others, has been seeking advantages over his -fellows. There are some advantages within your law; some beyond it: but, your -laws are nothing to us; and he has only done what many of our own people would -do, but in another way. When cheat robs cheat, it is all fair. This Tracy wanted -to gain great wealth; some one must lose--nay, many must lose--to swell his -fortune. Then comes a bolder rogue, and says, 'What you intended to gain, I will -pocket.' Who can blame the man for being as greedy as his employer? But all this -is foolish babble. If you will promise, you shall have him in your power in ten -minutes; if not, you may follow your own course."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I promise," said Chandos, after some consideration, "only to use the -opportunity you give me to make a bargain with him for the restoration of the -shares. Will that satisfy you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes," replied the woman; "but there are more things to be thought of. Come -hither apart with me." And leading Chandos a few steps into the wood, she -remained for several minutes in eager conversation with him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is but fair," he said, as they came back; "I will do all that; but the -people must wait for a few days."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That they will do readily, on your word," replied Sally Stanley; "now I will -send them away. You three stay here a moment; and mind, do everything very -silently."</p> - -<p class="normal">In about five minutes she returned alone, and made a sign to Chandos to -follow, which he did, with Lockwood and Faber, through a narrow path amongst the -trees, only wide enough to admit the passage of one person at a time. It wound -in and out considerably; but the direct distance from the spot where they held -their conference, to the top of the bank, under which Chandos had found the old -tinker on the preceding night, could not be more than a hundred yards. I have -before mentioned that the top of the bank was thickly covered with trees and -underwood; but when the party reached the top, Chandos could perceive that the -path they were then following took a turn through the bushes, and then descended -in a sidelong manner to the road below. The cottage, with all the windows still -shut, was clearly to be seen through the branches; and pointing to it with her -hand, Sally Stanley whispered, "You will have to wait a while. Keep quite still -and silent till you see the door opened; then down like lightning, and in."</p> - -<p class="normal">"She will shut the door as soon as she sees us," answered Chandos, in the -same tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will provide for that," replied the woman; and after cautioning Lockwood -and Faber to be still, she left them on their watch.</p> - -<p class="normal">For nearly half-an-hour they remained without seeing any movement of human -life upon the road or in the cottage; and Faber asked Chandos, in a nervous -whisper, if what they were about was legal. The only reply was an injunction to -silence; and the moment after the two upper windows of the cottage were opened, -and then the two lower ones. The maid next put her head out, and looked round on -every side, then drew it in again, and pulled down the sash. Two or three -minutes after a boy was seen coming along the road, dressed in a blue -smock-frock and leathern leggings, with a white jug full of milk in his hand. -For some moments, so complete was the disguise, that Chandos himself did not -recognise Tim Stanley; but the boy at length gave a glance up towards the top of -the bank, and then approached the little gate of the cottage garden. He tried it -with his hand, apparently to see if it was open, then put his shoulder to it and -pushed it in. The instant he had done so the door of the house was thrown -violently open, and the woman, rushing out, began to abuse him for breaking the -gate, at the same time snatching the jug of milk out of his hand. Chandos sprang -forward and darted down the bank, followed by Lockwood. Their sudden apparition -instantly changed the tactics of the woman, who ran towards the house and -endeavoured to shut the door; but little Tim was before her, and setting his -back stoutly against it, he resisted all her efforts. Another force, however, -seemed to be suddenly applied from within; for the door was pushed forward, -catching the boy between it and the wall; and as he resolutely maintained his -place, he was in danger of being seriously injured, when Chandos came up, and by -his superior strength drove it open.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Run, run!" cried the woman servant; and as the young gentleman forced his -way into the passage; a man's figure disappeared at the other end. Pushing the -woman aside, he pursued without pause, and found a door leading out at once to -the top of the high and precipitous bank, at the edge of which the house was -situated; and a rapid glance down showed him a stout figure running along a -narrow, ledge-like path on the face of the cliff. Chandos took a few hurried -steps down, fearing that amongst the trees at the bottom he might still lose the -object of his pursuit; but no sooner did the fugitive reach the comparatively -level ground below, than a tall man, starting out from the bushes, caught him by -the collar, and threw him rudely back upon the ground.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here he is. Come and take him," cried the man, beckoning to Chandos; and in -another minute the young gentleman had his hand upon the shoulder of Mr. -Scriptolemus Bond. Lockwood was also by his side; and between them, they raised -the worthy gentleman from the ground, and made him walk up the bank again. There -is, certainly, something very ludicrous in fear; and the expression of the -rogue's countenance, as he silently rolled his sharp black eyes from the face of -Chandos to that of Lockwood, had well nigh made the young gentleman laugh, -notwithstanding all the grave thoughts that were in his bosom.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Walk in there, Sir," said Chandos, when they reached the door of the little -parlour; and then, turning to the maid who stood crying beside Faber and little -Tim, in the passage, he added, "If you have hurt the boy by your brutality, my -good woman, you shall not go without punishment."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh I am not hurt!" cried Tim; "she's not so bad as a bull."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now," said Chandos, entering the parlour, of which Lockwood already had -possession, "I think I have at length the pleasure of seeing Mr. Scriptolemus -Bond, alias Wilson, &c.; and I have to inform him that he must immediately -produce all the scrip, bonds, and papers of all kinds belonging to Mr. Arthur -Tracy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Who are you, Sir?" exclaimed Mr. Scriptolemus Bond, recovering himself a -little. "What authority have you to force your way into my house? Where is your -warrant or your staff? Do you suppose that without authority I--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"You ask for authority, do you, Sir," said Chandos. "By so doing you will -force me to seek it, and convey yourself to prison and to Van-Diemen's-Land. I -was willing to spare you, if you thought fit to make restitution of that which -you have wrongly taken from Mr. Tracy; but let me tell you that you have no -choice but to do so instantly, and without hesitation, or go before a magistrate -on a charge of robbery."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, stay," said Mr. Scriptolemus Bond; "let us talk about the matter -quietly. Perhaps we can arrange it.--Betty, Betty, give me a glass of brandy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not a drop," said Chandos, sternly: "the matter needs no arrangement. You -have heard what I demand, and what are my intentions, and you have but to answer -'Yes,' or 'No,' to this plain question--Will you deliver up the papers?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"But you are so hasty, so hasty," cried Mr. Bond. "For Heaven's sake, shut -the door, and let us speak two words. First of all, I must know who you are, -Sir; for one does not trust papers of consequence to a stranger. I have been -very ill, Sir; or I should have seen Mr. Tracy before, and given the papers to -himself. Very ill, indeed, I have been, with a nasty affection of the throat."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You are likely to be troubled with a still nastier one," said Lockwood, -drily.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Mr. Bond," replied Chandos, "none of these evasions will serve your turn in -the least. My name is Winslow, a friend of General Tracy and his brother. The -fact of your having absconded is well known to everyone: officers are in pursuit -of you; you have been publicly advertised in the newspapers; and I have nothing -to do but to take you before a magistrate, in order to send you to jail. Once -more, then, I ask you, Will you deliver the papers?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I don't see what good it would do me," said Mr. Scriptolemus Bond; "I must -see my way clearly, Sir. Pray, are you one of the Winslows of Elmsly?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos was provoked by the rapid return of his cool impudence; and he -replied, "You shall see your way clearly, but it shall be to prison."</p> - -<p class="normal">At the same time he laid his hand upon the worthy gentleman's collar again, -and turning to Lockwood, added, "You can pinion him with my handkerchief, -Lockwood. Then I and Faber can take him over to S----, while you remain here to -see that nothing is abstracted till a proper search can be made."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There, there, you are so very hasty," said the culprit; "now do be a little -reasonable. Can you expect me to give up such sums without some small -consideration for my pains."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The consideration which you will get," answered Chandos, "is an escape from -punishment."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I must have something more than that," said Mr. Bond. "And now, Sir, I will -tell you in one word how we stand; for you seem to think you can have it all -your own way; but you cannot. You have got the whip hand of me in one way, and I -have got the whip hand of Mr. Tracy in another. It is very lucky for him that -you are not an officer, as I thought at first; for if you had been, not one -shred of all his shares would he ever have seen in his life. You think it is in -this house, or perhaps in my pocket; but you may search the premises and the -pockets too, and if you find a single share you may eat me. Now, Mr. Winslow, I -tell you there is nobody knows where the whole amount is but myself, and there -it shall lie till it rots, unless I have ten thousand pounds for giving it up. -That is my last word upon the subject."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then perhaps you will have the goodness to walk with me," said Chandos; -"only just a little way, till we can get a post-chaise to carry you before a -magistrate; for ten thousand pounds you certainly will not have, or anything the -least like it. If it had been a fifty pound note you demanded, just to help you -into some foreign country, I might have given it to you on receiving the -shares."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But what am I to do when I get to a foreign country?" said Mr. Bond, coolly. -"You forget, my dear Sir, that a man must live. And if I am not to live -comfortably, I might as well go to Van-Diemen's-Land, and let Mr. Tracy do -without his shares."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You had better give him something, Mr. Winslow," said Faber; "the poor devil -must have something to start with."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Thank you, thank you, Mr. Faber," said Mr. Bond; "that is the right view of -the case. I wonder if you are any relation of Faber, my old college chum--a -wonderfully clever fellow he was."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos could have knocked him down; but the negotiation was renewed by Faber -and Lockwood; and, after a great deal of haggling and resistance, the rogue's -demand was reduced to the sum of fifty pounds in hand, and a draft for five -hundred pounds at seven days' date, to be drawn by him and accepted by Chandos -on the spot. He moreover exacted from the young gentleman, acting as agent for -Mr. Tracy, a receipt in full of all demands; and when these points were -conceded, he drew the draft and the receipt with his own hand, and even made an -effort to get them both signed by Chandos, before he produced the papers.</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos, however, declined; and Lockwood laughed aloud, not without being -joined in his merriment by Mr. Bond himself; for there is a point of roguery -where all shame dies, and a man becomes vain of his very impudence.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well now, gentlemen," he said, at length, "just have the kindness to lock -the door, that we may not be interrupted, and then we will see what can be -done."</p> - -<p class="normal">There was a rosewood table in the middle of the room, with a drawer in it; -and, to the surprise of Chandos, it was to that drawer that the knave applied a -key which he drew from his breeches-pocket.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, I thought you told me I might search the house for these papers in -vain," said Chandos, indignant at having been cheated.</p> - -<p class="normal">"So you might," answered Mr. Bond, coolly, and drew open the drawer, which -presented nothing but a void.</p> - -<p class="normal">The next instant, however, Mr. Bond pressed his thumbs tight on the two sides -of the drawer, and with a sudden click the bottom started up. Removing the thin -piece of wood thus displaced, the worthy gentleman exhibited to the eyes of the -bystanders some fifteen or twenty bundles of papers, neatly tied up and -ticketed.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now Sir," he said, "you have got my secret, be so good as to accept the -draft and sign the receipt." He turned towards Chandos as he spoke; but that -gentleman had suddenly seated himself at the other side of the table, and was -leaning his head upon his hand, lost in thought. The words of Mr. Bond roused -him, however, and he replied, "Not till I am sure, Sir, that all the shares are -there. Give them to Mr. Faber, he will count them, and I will compare the number -with the printed list which I have in my pocket-book."</p> - -<p class="normal">This was accordingly done, much to Mr. Bond's mortification; for there is -much reason to believe that it was his intention to lay claim to some part of -the spoil, in order to drive a second bargain at an after period. But Chandos's -precaution, in having cut out of a newspaper a full description of the shares -purloined, frustrated this last attempt, and all were restored. There still -remained in the drawer three bundles, similar to those which were given up, -belonging probably to some other unfortunate clients of the worthy Scriptolemus -Bond; but with these of course Chandos had no power to meddle, and he -accordingly signed the papers which had been drawn up.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now," cried Mr. Bond, snapping his fingers as soon as he had received them, -"I am a free man. This paper is as good as a passport; and to-morrow morning I -shall be safe in France."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I should think, Mr. Bond," said Chandos, with a somewhat contemptuous smile, -"that there are things in that drawer which will yet take the wind out of your -sail."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A very pretty figure, but not applicable," replied Mr. Bond. "All the other -gentlemen have trusted to Mr. Tracy's catching me, and so his passport is, as -the French say, <i>valable</i> for the present."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I shall take care, at all events," said Chandos, "to make this matter -generally known when I reach London."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Now that is not fair, that is not fair," said Mr. Bond. "But I will be -beforehand with you; and, as I think our business is concluded, I will go and -pack up my trunk. Good morning, Mr. Winslow; good morning, gentlemen all."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos did not deign to make any reply; but, taking the papers from Faber, -walked out of the house.</p> - -<p class="normal">The little boy, Tim, was found in the garden, near the gate, which he had -burst open; for the proximity of Mr. Bond's strapping maidservant did not seem -pleasant to him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Have you got it? have you got it?" cried the boy. And when Chandos, patting -him on the head, answered in the affirmative, he clapped his little hands with -joy, exclaiming, "I will run and tell my mother; she will be so glad!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will go with you, Tim," said Chandos; "for she must take you home to -Northferry. All my plans are altered by this morning's work, Lockwood; and I -must speed up to London without delay. I will be down, however, to-morrow or the -day after, for a new light has broken upon me in an instant, which I think may -lead to great results. I wish to Heaven I could see the memorandum which poor -Roberts found."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I can show it you, Sir," said Faber; "for by his direction I took a copy of -it, and have got it in my pocket-book."</p> - -<p class="normal">It was produced in a moment, and, still standing in the open space before the -cottage, Chandos read it attentively.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Were these initials at the end copied accurately?" he said, turning to -Faber, and pointing to some capital letters written under his father's name.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, Mr. Winslow," answered Faber; "as far as I could make them out, they -stood just so, in two lines. No. 2, I.S. B.E. No. 3, P.D.".</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then there is still a chance," said Chandos. "But come, I will away to -London, and take advice upon these points also."</p> - -<p class="normal">His companions could not at all make out what he meant; but the new light -which he said he had got, greatly accelerated all Chandos's movements. With a -quick step he led the way to the copse where he had left the gipsey woman; and -having given little Tim into her charge, he explained to her all that had -occurred; but in terms so brief that none but one of her rapid intelligence -could have comprehended what he meant. Then promising to see her again soon, he -hurried away towards the high-road to London, accompanied as before by Faber and -Lockwood. As they approached the little inn where Chandos had stopped on the -preceding day, but before they could see the road, the sound of rolling wheels -was heard; and with an impatient exclamation he said, "There is the coach gone!"</p> - -<p class="normal">But he was mistaken, for it still wanted a quarter of an hour of the time at -which the stage appeared. Faber would fain have gone with him to London; but -Chandos begged him to go over to Northferry, and wait for him, saying, "Sir -William will not come there, you may be very sure."</p> - -<p class="normal">In a few minutes after, the coach rolled up, the portmanteau was put in the -boot, Chandos sprang upon the top, and after a short delay, away the vehicle -rolled towards the great city.</p> - -<p class="normal">"He's in a vast hurry," said Lockwood; "what can have struck him?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I don't know, I am sure," replied Faber; and they turned away.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLIV.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">It was about half-past four in the afternoon, when a common street-cabriolet -drove up to a house in Berkeley Square, in the windows of which were exhibited -large bills, stating that the lease and furniture would be sold by auction, on a -certain day, then not far distant. Chandos Winslow sprang out of the vehicle, -and knocked at the door, which was opened almost immediately by a coarse-looking -woman, with her arms bare, and a wet cloth in her hand. In answer to the young -gentleman's inquiry for Mr. Tracy, the charwoman replied, that he was not there; -adding that he had left the house the day before with his family, but that she -did not know where he was gone. The next drive of the cabriolet was to Green -Street; but there Chandos paid the driver before he got out. He then knocked at -General Tracy's door, and the face of his old servant, who soon appeared, showed -him at once, that no favourable change had taken place in the circumstances of -the family.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My master and Mr. Tracy are both out, Sir," he said, even before he was -asked; "but Miss Rose is in the drawing-room."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Are they all well?" asked Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Pretty well; but very sad," replied the man. "Miss Emily, indeed, is not -very well; and has not been out of her room to-day."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I hope I bring them all good news," replied Chandos, willing to lighten the -grief even of an attached dependent. "I will, therefore, make bold, to go up at -once, my good friend, without being announced:" and walking rapidly up the -stairs, he opened the drawing-room door.</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose was seated at a table, writing; for she had not heard the sound of a -footfall on the well-carpeted stairs: but, the moment Chandos entered the room, -she looked up; and though there were still tears in her eyes, a low exclamation -of pleasure broke from her lips, when she saw him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, Chandos!" she said, "I was writing to you, by my uncle's permission; for -we thought you had left town yesterday--indeed, the people at the hotel said so."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I did, dearest Rose," he answered; "but I have come back to-day on business -of importance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am exceedingly glad of it," replied Rose, as Chandos seated himself beside -her; "not alone because I am glad to see you; but because you can answer in -person the questions which I was going to put;--and yet I do not know how I can -put them, now you are here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What!--between you and me, dear Rose?" said Chandos. "Can you have any -hesitation in asking Chandos Winslow anything? Tell me frankly, my beloved what -it is you wish to know; and I will answer at once."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why, the fact is this," said Rose, looking down at the letter she had been -writing, till the rich beautiful hair fell over her fair face, "the creditors -have, this morning, returned an unfavourable answer. They will not consent to my -uncle's proposal. They will not permit the reservation of ten thousand pounds -from the sale of his estate for Emily, and the same for myself; though they do -not object to the sum appropriated to purchase an annuity for my uncle and papa. -Emily at once begged that she might not be considered for a moment; and so did -I: but my uncle said, that, in my case, he was not a free agent; for that he had -promised that sum of ten thousand pounds to you: and that he could not even -propose to withdraw from his word. I took upon me, Chandos, to answer for you; -but he said that the proposal must come from yourself, if at all, when you knew -the whole circumstances; and I had even a difficulty in gaining permission to -write to you, though everything must be decided by half-past twelve the day -after to-morrow. Was I wrong, Chandos, in what I said on your behalf?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, dearest Rose, you were not wrong," answered Chandos; and then kissing -her fair hand, he gazed with a look of mingled gaiety and tenderness in her -face; adding, "and yet, my Rose, I do not think I shall consent after all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not consent!" she exclaimed; and then, shaking her head, as she saw the -bright look with which he regarded her, she said, "Nay, I know you better: you -are jesting, Chandos."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, my Rose," he answered, "I am not jesting. But I will not tease you with -suspense: what I mean, my love, is, that I do not think there will be any need -of my consent; for I trust the clouds are passing away, and that your father's -fortunes may be re-established, without the noble sacrifice your uncle proposes -to make."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The change must be soon, Chandos," said Rose, sadly; "for these people have -announced their intention of making him a bankrupt the day after to-morrow, if -their demands are not complied with."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The change has taken place, dear Rose," replied Chandos; "and I thank God -that I have been made the instrument of bringing good news and comfort to you -all. It is this which has brought me so suddenly back to town. But, hark! that -is the General's knock, or I am mistaken."</p> - -<p class="normal">"My father is with him," said Rose; "but tell me, dear Chandos, tell me the -news. Let me be the first to give it him."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is that I have recovered all the property carried off by that villain, -Bond," answered Chandos Winslow. "I have the whole of the shares with me now."</p> - -<p class="normal">Rose clasped her hands in joy, and at the same moment the door opened, and -the dejected face of Mr. Tracy appeared. He gazed for an instant sternly at the -laughing countenance of his daughter, and then made a movement as if to quit the -room; but Rose sprang up and cast her arms round him--whispered some words in his -ear, and then, in the excess of her joy, burst into tears.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What? what?" cried Mr. Tracy. "I did not hear. What does she say? What does -she mean?" and he turned towards Chandos with an eager and impatient look, while -the foot of General Tracy was heard ascending the stairs.</p> - -<p class="normal">"She has good news to give you, my dear Sir," replied Chandos; "the best that -you have received for some time; but I really must not take it from her lips. Be -calm, be calm, dear Rose, and tell your father."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh he has got them all!" cried Rose, still weeping; "all the shares--all that -the wretched man carried off."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You, you, Chandos?" cried Mr. Tracy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Got them all!" exclaimed General Tracy, pushing past his brother.</p> - -<p class="normal">"All," replied Chandos; "at least all that were advertised. They are here, my -dear Sir. I never was so loaded with riches before;" and he produced the various -packets from his pockets.</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Tracy sat quietly down on the sofa, in profound silence; he did not touch -the papers; he did not even look at them. His emotions were too strong, too -overpowering; and he remained with his eyes bent upon the floor, till Rose sat -down beside him, and took his hand in hers, when he threw his arms round her, -and kissed her tenderly, whispering, "Go and tell our dear Emily, my child."</p> - -<p class="normal">General Tracy in the meantime ran hastily over the shares, comparing them -with a memorandum in his pocket-book. Then laid them down upon the table; and -marching across to Chandos, shook both his hands heartily, but without a word. -Chandos understood him, however, and it was enough. The next minute the old -officer rang the bell; and on the servant appearing, said in a quiet tone, -"Bring me the paper out of my room, Joseph."</p> - -<p class="normal">As soon as he had got it, he set to work, with pencil in hand, upon the -prices of the share market; and after a rapid calculation, looked with a -triumphant smile to his brother, saying, "Twenty-three thousand pounds to spare, -Arthur. Tomorrow, please God, they all go, for I shall never have peace till the -cursed trash is out of the house. Now, Chandos, my dear boy, let us hear no -more--."</p> - -<p class="normal">But before Mr. Winslow could answer, Emily Tracy followed Rose into the room, -and cast herself into her father's arms. Her next movement was to hold out her -hand to Chandos, saying, "Oh, thank you, thank you! You have saved us from -horrors. But how has it been done?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Why I have now my confession to make," answered Chandos; "and if I had been -politic, I should have done it while the first pleasant surprise was upon you -all; for I have taken upon me, Mr. Tracy, to act for you very boldly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Whatever you have promised, I will perform," answered Mr. Tracy, "and that -with deep and heartfelt thanks; for you have saved me from disgrace which I -could never have survived."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If it be for twenty thousand pounds, it shall be paid gladly," said the -General.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, it is not so bad as that," replied Chandos; "the worse part of my case, -my dear Sir, is, that, unauthorised, I have taken upon me to act as your agent, -and in that quality to give the man a general release. As to the money, there -was not any great difficulty, for I gave the scoundrel fifty pounds in hand to -help him to France, and accepted his bill at seven days for the rest, to close -the whole transaction at once; as at all events if I acted wrong, I could but be -the loser of the sum. He demanded ten thousand pounds--."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, let him have it," said General Tracy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," answered Chandos, "I would not let him have it; but I engaged myself -for five hundred; and it is for you to judge whether I acted right in so doing, -knowing, as I did, that in this case time was of the greatest importance."</p> - -<p class="normal">"You acted admirably," said Mr. Tracy; "and I have to thank you for your -decision, as well as for your prudent management."</p> - -<p class="normal">"If it had been in my hands, I fear I should have given him whatever he -asked," said the old officer; "for the fearful idea of my brother being made a -bankrupt--a bankrupt, Chandos, like a mere trader--would have swallowed up all -cool prudence. But now tell us all about the how, the when, and the where you -found this pitiful knave."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Do you know, General," replied Chandos, "I fear I must leave that part of -the tale untold for to-night. I have some matters of much moment on which I wish -to have the best legal advice I can get; and I must seek it instantly. If I can -obtain the opinion and directions I want to-night, I shall leave town early -to-morrow. If not, I shall come in during the morning, and will tell you all."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But do give me a hint, however slight," said Mr. Tracy; "it seems to me like -a happy dream; and I fear I shall wake and find it unreal, unless I have some -confirmation."</p> - -<p class="normal">"All I can stop to say," replied Chandos, "is, that your little protégé, -General, the gipsey boy, acted a great part in the adventure; and gallantly did -he perform it, I assure you, at the hazard of life and limb."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will make a soldier of him," answered the old officer; "I will buy him a -commission. But there has been danger then, in this affair."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh no!" replied Chandos; "only danger to the poor boy. But now I will bid -you adieu. Farewell, dear Rose. The greatest happiness I have ever known in -life, has been to bring you news which took a heavy load from your kind warm -heart."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos Winslow shook hands with the rest of the party, and was then leaving -the room, when the General exclaimed, "Chandos, Chandos!" and followed him to -the top of the stairs.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My dear friend," said the officer, "you have done us the greatest service -that man could render us; but, in so doing, you have removed obstacles to your -own happiness. Rose and Emily, are, of course, my heiresses. I do not see why -they should not have now the greater part of their future fortunes: for I have -no expenses; and now, with changed circumstances, it would not, of course, be so -imprudent to marry, as it appeared some days ago. Poor Emily is sad; for she has -heard from your brother, announcing his return to England; and claiming the -completion of her engagement with him. I must take it in hand myself, I see; for -I will not have the dear girl's happiness thrown away. Now, however, farewell: -for I see you are in haste; but come in, whenever you return from your journey; -and remember, that the causes which induced me to exact a promise of you, to -refrain from pressing Rose to a speedy union have been removed. Only one word -more; and that on business. Are you at the same hotel where you were the other -day?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes," replied Chandos; "I left my baggage there as I came."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well then, I will send a cheque for the five hundred pounds there, this -evening," said the General.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Perhaps, it would be better," answered Chandos, "if you would have the -kindness to pay it into my account at Curtis's; as it is very possible, that I -may not be home till very late to-night. Any time within a week will do."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It shall be done to-morrow," replied the old officer; and they parted: -Chandos to seek his friend, Sir----, through courts and chambers; and the General, -to rejoice with his brother on a deliverance from that which had seemed an -inevitable disgrace not half-an-hour before. General Tracy was a good, kind man; -but, like everybody else in the world who fancies he has no prejudices, he had -several; and those he had were strong. He looked upon it undoubtedly as a -disgrace not to pay a just debt under any circumstances; but the sting of the -calamity which had menaced his brother, was to him that he might be "made a -bankrupt like a mere trader." There was the rub with General Tracy. If none but -"gentlemen and soldiers" could be made bankrupts, he would not have felt it half -as much, though he would have deplored it still. But to be put in the <i>Gazette</i> -like a ruined pork-butcher, that was terrible indeed! How strange it is, that in -estimating disgraces, we never look to the act, but to the consequences!</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLV.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">The ground-floor of Sir William Winslow's house at Elmsly, contained as -splendid a suite of rooms as any in England; and nothing that taste could do to -give grace to the decorations, or that skill could effect to afford that comfort -of which we are so fond, had been neglected by the last possessor, during a -period of three years before his death. Sir William Winslow, however, was in -some sort a stranger to the house, which was now his own: for, during several -years, great coldness had subsisted between himself and his father. He had spent -much of his time on the Continent; and had not, in fact, been at Elmsly for two -years, when he was summoned thither in haste, a few hours before Sir Harry's -death. The interview between himself and his brother Chandos at Winslow Abbey -took place on the Tuesday; and on the Thursday following, about nine o'clock at -night, he was seated in the large dining-room of the magnificent suite I have -mentioned, with the clergyman of the parish opposite to him.</p> - -<p class="normal">The table, looking like a little island, in the ocean of Turkey carpet which -flowed around, was covered with the desert, and with sundry decanters of choice -wines; and two servants handed the plates of fruit and preserves to their -master, and their master's guest. When this ceremony had been performed, the -attendants left the room; and a desultory conversation, mingled with wine took -place between Sir William and the clergyman. The latter was a stout, portly man, -with a good deal of the animal in his original composition; but rigidly and -pertinaciously kept down by a strong moral sense, and high religious feelings. -The motives which had produced so speedy an invitation on the part of Sir -William Winslow were various: but one was, that Sir William did not like to be -left alone. His own thoughts were unpleasant companions. Again, he was anxious -to retrieve some part of the good opinions he had lost. He felt that he had -undervalued character; and, of late, things had appeared important to him, which -he had looked upon with contempt before. Amongst others, some sort of religious -opinions began to be objects of desire. He did not much care what, for his -notions on the subject were very indefinite; but he felt a want, a craving for -something that could give him the support which he possessed not in his own -heart--for something that would afford him hope, when there was nought within him -but despair. He had heard--he knew, indeed--that the Christian religion promised -pardon for offences, hope to the sinner, peace to the repentant. And he sent to -the clergyman to seek a certain portion of religion, just as a thirsty labourer -would send to a public-house for a jug of beer.</p> - -<p class="normal">The conversation, as I have said, was of a desultory kind: the subject of -religion was approached in a timid, uncertain sort of way by Sir William -Winslow; more as an opening than anything else: and the clergyman answered in a -few brief, but very striking words; which produced a deep effect. He treated the -matter less doctrinally than philosophically, and in such a manner, that Sir -William Winslow was inclined to fancy what he said had a personal application to -himself; although the good man had no such intention.</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is beautifully and happily ordained," said the clergyman, in answer to -something which had preceded, "that the commission of crime, and the reproaches -of conscience, very frequently, by the desolation which they produce in worldly -things, should awaken in us the conviction of another state; give us a sense of -our immortality; and teach the man who has only known himself as a mere animal, -that he possesses a spirit, to be lost or saved, to live for ever to punishment -or felicity. That conviction once gained, and the question naturally follows: -'What can I do to be saved?' The Word of God replies 'Repent'; and repentance to -salvation is not unfrequently the consequence."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow mused; but after a time he replied, in a discursive -manner, "It is a curious consideration what this same spirit can be. I doubt not -its existence; for I feel a moving power within me, apart from, and independent -of, mere <i>will</i>. But what is it? I see it not. No one has ever seen it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hold, hold," cried the clergyman; "you must not say that. The records of -Scripture bear witness, that spirits have been seen; and it can be shown -philosophically, that there is no reason for supposing such a thing impossible."</p> - -<p class="normal">The worthy pastor had been set upon a subject which was a favourite one with -him, and he went on, citing history after history, and instance after instance, -to prove that, under certain circumstances, there were means of communication -established between the dead and the living. He even went so far as to argue -that it would be absurd to suppose it otherwise; that granting that there is -such a thing as spirit, and that spirit is immortal, all analogy would show that -there must be a power in the disembodied of producing certain influences upon -their brethren in the flesh. "You cannot point out any order of beings," he -said, "from the most imperfect to the most perfect, which has not some knowledge -and communication with those next to it in the great scale of animated nature."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow listened, but replied not, keeping his teeth tight shut, -and his lips compressed; and the clergyman proceeded in the same strain, till -the clock struck ten, when he suddenly rose to depart.</p> - -<p class="normal">His host would willingly have detained him a little longer; for, as I have -said, he loved not to be alone; but he was too haughty to press it beyond one -request; and the clergyman, who was a man of habits, always retired at ten.</p> - -<p class="normal">When he was gone Sir William walked into the drawing-room and ordered coffee. -He took it very strong, and that agitated rather than calmed his nerves. He -walked up and down for half-an-hour, and then he said to himself, "I will go and -look over those letters. There is no use in going to bed, I should not sleep." -He then ordered candles in the library; but he would not go thither till they -were lighted. When that was done he walked slowly in, and took up some of the -unopened letters with which the table was strewed. The second which he broke was -signed "Overton;" and after having run his eye down the page, he threw it away -with a look of anger. He would read no more, and sitting down in the large arm -chair, where so often his father had sat, he gnawed his lip, with his eyes bent -upon the ground.</p> - -<p class="normal">The clock struck eleven, and Sir William started in his seat and counted it. -A minute or two after, he took out his pocket-book, and drew from it a folded -piece of vellum. He did not then look at the contents, however, but thrust it -into a drawer of the table. Then, rising from his seat, he walked to the window -and looked out. It was a beautiful moonlight night, the soft, silvery rays -resting on the lawns and woods of the park, and the little stars, faint and -sleepy in the sky. He gazed for several minutes; but I know not whether he -beheld anything but the objects of his own fancy. Then he walked up and down the -room again, and twice stood for a moment or two opposite the drawer in the -library table. At length he suddenly pulled it open, took out the vellum, -unfolded it, and read the strange contents.</p> - -<p class="normal">"By--," he exclaimed, after thinking for a moment, "this is devilish strange! -it is the very day she drowned herself!" and the vellum trembled in his hand. "I -won't go. Why should I go?"</p> - -<p class="normal">He looked at the writing again: "She will come and fetch me!" he repeated, -with his lip curling; "I should like to see her;" and the proud spirit seemed to -rise up again in full force. But then he shook his head sadly, and murmured, -"Poor girl! she told me once before she would come, and she did--to her own -destruction."</p> - -<p class="normal">The clock struck the half hour, and in great agitation--agitation scarcely -sane--Sir William Winslow walked up and down the room again, with a wild, -irregular step, his eyes rolling in his head, as if he saw some strange sight, -and his hand frequently carried to his brow, and pressed tight upon his -forehead.</p> - -<p class="normal">At the end of about ten minutes, he stopped, gazed vacantly upon the floor, -and then, with a sudden start, exclaimed aloud, "I will go to her! She shall not -say that I feared her. She shall not come here--no, no--yet I believe, alive or -dead, she would do it, if she said it.--It is her hand too. That name, how often -have I seen it with different feelings! Poor Susan!" and walking out of the -library, and through the corridor, he took his hat and quitted the house.</p> - -<p class="normal">The moon lighted him on his way through the park. He could see every pebble -in the ground; but yet his step was as irregular as if the way had been rough -and rude. Nevertheless he went very quick; he seemed impatient; and when he -found the park-gates shut, he did not wait to awaken the people of the lodge, -but cut across to a stile which went over the paling; and there he issued forth -into the road. About two hundred yards before him rose the church, with its good -broad cemetery, encircled by a low wall. The moon shone full on the white -building, rising like a spectre amongst the dark trees and fields around.</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow stopped suddenly, crossed his arms upon his chest, and -thought. Then the heavy bell of the church clock began to strike the hour of -midnight; and walking rapidly on he reached the gate of the churchyard, while -the sound of the last stroke still swung trembling in the air. He passed through -the little turnstile, and walked up the path. There was a new tombstone close -upon the right, which he had never seen before; and his eyes fixed upon it. The -letters of the inscription were all plain in the moonlight, and the name -"Roberts" stared him in the face, with these words following, "Brutally -murdered, by some person unknown, on the fifth of February, one thousand eight -hundred and forty-five, in the sixtieth year of his age."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow trembled violently, and murmured, "Who has done this? Who -has done this?"</p> - -<p class="normal">His courage had well nigh deserted him entirely; and he paused, hardly able -to go on, when a voice from the farther side of the cemetery asked, "Are you -come?"</p> - -<p class="normal">He knew the tongue, though it had sounded sweeter in other days; and striding -forward, he answered, "I am here! Where are you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here," answered the voice from the direction of a tall mausoleum, over the -mouth of the Winslow vault: "Come on!"</p> - -<p class="normal">He advanced, but could perceive no one. He walked round the monument; the -space was quite clear around. "Where are you? What would you with me?" he cried.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am where I have a right to be," answered the voice from a spot apparently -below his feet. "I am amongst those from whom sprang a man who promised to make -me one of them, and broke his promise. I am amongst your dead, William Winslow! -Your father is on my right hand, and your mother on my left. Your place is here -beside me, and will not be long vacant, if your spirit does not bow itself to -repentance, your strong will does not yield to right."</p> - -<p class="normal">"God of Heaven!" he cried, laying his hand upon the gate in the iron railing -which surrounded the tomb, and shaking it violently; but instantly there was a -low laugh, and a voice said, "Poor fool!--You ask," continued the voice, "what I -would with you? For myself, I seek nothing. You can neither harm nor benefit me -more. The time is past. The hour is gone by; and what you could once have done, -is now beyond your power. But for our boy, you can do much; you can atone to the -mother, by love to the child. Take him to yourself; own him as yours; and oh! -above all things, teach him to avoid and to abhor such crimes as you yourself -have committed."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Our boy!" cried Sir William Winslow, "I knew not that you had one, Susan. -Oh, Susan, in mercy, in pity, tell me where he is?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ask your brother," answered the voice; "ask that kind, noble brother, whom -you have wronged, who has been a father to your child, when you were depriving -himself of his inheritance; who has taught him virtue, and honour, and the love -of God. He will give him to your arms, if you show yourself worthy of him. Thus -much for myself, William Winslow; but, oh that there were any power in prayers, -to make you grant that which is needful for another."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Speak, speak!" said he eagerly; "I will grant whatever you ask. I wronged -you basely, I know; I broke my plighted word; I forfeited my honour given. -Speak, Susan! Let me make atonement, as far as it can now be made."</p> - -<p class="normal">"The other for whom I prayed is yourself," answered the voice. "Oh, William -Winslow, beware. The cup is well nigh full. You cannot wake the dead; but you -can do justice to the living. Bend your knees to God, and implore mercy; humble -your heart even before men, and do not persist in evil. Restore what you have -wrongly taken, and all may go well; but hear the last words that ever you will -hear on earth, from her you wronged on earth: If you persist in the evil you can -by a word redress, the crime that you think is buried for ever in darkness, will -rise up into light by the consequences of your own acts. Such is judgment--such -is retribution--such is the will of God. Amen."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But of what particular wrong do you speak?" asked Sir William Winslow.</p> - -<p class="normal">There was no answer, and he exclaimed, "Speak, Susan! speak!"</p> - -<p class="normal">All was silent, and again and again he endeavoured to obtain a reply, but in -vain.</p> - -<p class="normal">At length, moving slowly away, he passed round the other side of the church, -to avoid the grave of the steward, and soon reached the park. He hurried -homeward; but he entered not his own house so speedily. For two long hours he -walked backwards and forwards upon the terrace, with his head bent down and his -eyes fixed upon the sand. Who shall undertake to detail the terrible turns of -the struggle then within him. It was a battle between the whole host of darkness -and the cherubim of the Lord. Fear, and Doubt, and Pride, and Vanity, and all -their tribes were arrayed against the small, bright legion which had gained one -small spot of vantage ground in his heart. Doubt and Fear he knew must remain -for ever on this side of the grave, to hold that part of the castle to which he -had given them admittance; but their very presence there made him anxious to -exclude them from the rest; and he repeated a thousand times in spirit, "Would -to God I had not burned that will! Would to God that aught would afford me a -fair excuse for acting as it dictated! What can I do? Where can I turn? Heaven -send me, light and help!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Still the internal strife lasted long; and when at length he re-entered the -house, body and mind felt worn and exhausted. His valet gazed at him with one of -his quiet, serpent looks, and said, "You seem ill, Sir. Had you not better have -some cordial?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no," answered Sir William Winslow, turning from him with a faint -shudder; "I want nothing but rest. It matters not."</p> - -<p class="normal">But that night he did not lie down to rest without bending the knee, and -imploring mercy and protection. It was the first time for many years. It was the -first night, too, that he had slept for more than an hour at a time for several -months; but now he remained in slumber undisturbed till ten o'clock, and when he -woke he felt the effect of repose. He rose, threw on his dressing-gown, and -approached the glass on his dressing-table. He hardly knew the face that it -reflected. He did not feel ill. Sleep had refreshed him; his limbs were strong -and vigorous, but all colour had fled from his cheek. He was thenceforth as pale -as the dead.</p> - -<p class="normal">He then went to the window for air, and the first thing his eye lighted upon -was his valet, advanced a step or two on the terrace, talking to a tall, stout -man, of a very sallow complexion, in a long, brown great coat. Sir William -Winslow's heart sunk, he knew not why. He did not like to see that Italian -talking with any one since he had mentioned the spots of blood upon his coat; -and he gazed for a moment at the servant as he stood with his back towards him, -with feelings of pain and alarm. Suddenly a change came over him. He raised his -head high, and his proud nostril expanded. "It matters not," he said to himself; -"I will be no man's slave long. I will do Chandos justice--I will provide for my -poor boy--see him--embrace him--and then that scoundrel shall go forth to do his -worst."</p> - -<p class="normal">With these thoughts he rang his bell sharply, and soon after descended to -breakfast. His meal was speedily concluded; and going into the library, he wrote -for some time. One paper which he covered seemed to be a mere note; but for the -other he consulted several times a law book, which he took down out of the -library.</p> - -<p class="normal">When that was done, he rang again, and ordered the servant who appeared to -send the butler, the bailiff, and the housekeeper to him, all together. Before -they could be collected he had folded the note and addressed it to "Chandos -Winslow, Esq.," and when the three persons he had sent for appeared, with some -surprise at their unusual summons, he said, I wish you to witness my signature -of this paper. Then taking the pen, he wrote his name at the bottom, saying, -"This is my last will and testament." The witnesses put their hands to the paper -and withdrew, each observing how ill their master looked, and arguing by the -sudden signature of his will that he felt more unwell than he appeared.</p> - -<p class="normal">The event became a matter of gossip in the housekeeper's room, and the -Italian valet rubbed his forehead and looked thoughtful; but he had not much -time for consideration before he was called to carry a note, which had just -arrived, to Sir William, who had gone to his dressing-room previous to going -out. The man looked at it somewhat wistfully as he took it up; but he dared not -finger the envelope, and it was delivered without the contents having escaped by -the way.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Countermand my horse," said his master; "I will write an answer directly. -Some one is waiting, of course."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, Sir William," replied the valet, and his master walked out at once, and -descended to the library. There, he again spread out the letter before him, and -read to the following effect:--</p> - - -<p style="margin-left: 60%; text-indent:-10%">"The Golden Bull, Elmsly,<br> -"May, 1845.</p> - -<p class="normal">"<span class="sc">Sir</span>,--I am directed by my client, Chandos Winslow, Esq., to inform you, that -from documents lately in the possession of Mr. Roberts, deceased, and from -private marks thereon, in the handwriting of the late Sir Harry Winslow, of the -true intent and meaning of which private marks the said Chandos Winslow is -cognizant, he has reason to believe, that an authentic copy of the last will and -testament of the aforesaid Sir Harry Winslow, Bart., signed with his name, and -dated, '25th June, 1840,' is still to be found in a certain depository, at -Elmsly House; hitherto unsearched by you: and, in consequence, I beg, in his -name, to request that you will cause search to be made in the said place or -depository, with all convenient speed, in the presence of myself, his attorney, -or any other person or persons whom he may select: or otherwise, that you will -sanction and permit the said search to be made by the said Chandos Winslow, -Esq., or myself, as his attorney, in presence of yourself, or any other person -or persons by yourself selected, as witnesses that the search or examination is -well and properly made, without fraud or favour, by, <span class="sc">Sir</span>,</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 60%; text-indent:-10%">"Your most obedient Servant,<br> - -"<span class="sc">Henry Miles,</span></p> - -<p style="margin-left: 50%; text-indent:-5%; font-size:10pt">"Attorney-at-Law and Solicitor to the firm -of<br> -Miles, Furlong, and Miles, S----."</p> - -<p class="normal">"P. S. Sir, I am directed by my client to inform you, that he has no desire -to be present in person at the proposed search, as he judges that, under -circumstances, his visit to Elmsly might not be agreeable."</p> -<br> - -<p class="normal">When he had read, Sir William Winslow held the letter up with a trembling -hand, and there was evidently a renewed struggle in his bosom. But his eye -rested on the note he had written to Chandos; and perhaps, he compared the -feelings with which he had spontaneously addressed his brother, with those which -were now excited by irritated pride, at what he conceived an attempt to drive -him to that which he had been willing to do undriven. At all events, he -smiled--very likely, at the first discovery of the secret springs of his own -actions; and sitting down again--for he had risen for a moment--he wrote the -following words:--</p> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"Sir William Winslow presents his compliments to Mr. Miles, and begs to -inform him that he is perfectly at liberty to make the proposed search at -Elmsly. Sir William, however, would prefer that it should be made in the -presence of his brother, Mr. Chandos Winslow, whom he will be happy to see at -Elmsly, as soon as possible, for that purpose. He sincerely hopes that the will -maybe found, as it may save some trouble; but, at the same time, he begs Mr. -Miles to forward, or present the inclosed note (written some hours ago) to Mr. -Winslow, begging him to understand that Sir William adheres to the contents, -irrespective of the result of the search now demanded.</p> - -<p class="normal"><span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Elmsly, &c."</span></p> -<br> - -<p class="normal">The note was immediately despatched, and the master of the house leaned his -head upon his hand in deep thought. He was disturbed by the entrance of the -valet, who advanced with a low and humble bow, saying, "Could I speak with you -for a moment, Sir?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," replied the baronet, sternly; "I am engaged."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But, Sir William," said the man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Leave the room, Sir!" thundered his master; "did you not hear me?"</p> - -<p class="normal">The man obeyed; but as he quitted the library, he muttered, "Oh! very well."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow felt he had gained something during the last few hours. -It was courage of a peculiar sort. The day before he would not have found -resolution so to answer a man, who, to a certain degree, had his life and honour -in his hands. Now he had no hesitation; and as he sat and thought, he asked -himself if it was the having taken the first step towards atonement which had -restored to him his long-lost firmness. He thought it was; and he resolved to go -on boldly. Perhaps he mistook the cause of the change in himself. His was one of -those quick and irritable dispositions which cannot bear suspense of any kind, -which will rather confront the utmost peril than wait an hour in fear; and the -very fact of having taken a strong resolution gave the power to execute it. But -still he fancied that the purpose of doing right, of making atonement, was the -result of his renewed vigour; and the mistake was salutary.</p> - -<p class="normal">In the meantime, the man whom he had dismissed from his presence so abruptly -went out to one of the several backdoors of the house, and looked about, casting -his eyes over the wood, which there came near the house. For a minute or two he -seemed to be looking for something and not discovering it; but then, he beckoned -with his finger, and a dark man, in a long great-coat, came across from under -the trees and joined him.</p> - -<p class="normal">They spoke in low tones, but eagerly, for about five minutes; and at last the -dark man said, "No; we had better work separate. I will manage it, you'll see; -and you can do the same if you do but frighten him enough. I must speak with the -woman first; but I'll be back in an hour, if you think he'll be alone then."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I dare say he will," answered the valet, "there are not many people come -here now; but if there should be any one, you can wait about till they are -gone."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very well," replied the other; and with a nod and a low laugh, he turned -away, and left the Italian standing at the door.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLVI.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">Chandos Winslow sat in the little village inn at Elmsly, with his keen old -solicitor from S----; who had, as the reader has seen, just mingled in a note to -Sir William Winslow, a certain degree of lawyer-like formality, with an -affection of commonplace ease, which he thought was masterly in its kind. They -were awaiting the reply; and the lawyer calculated upon either one or two -courses being adopted by the baronet to meet the pungent contents of his -missive. "Sir William," he said, addressing Chandos, "will, I imagine, either -beg to know where the will is supposed to be concealed, promising to cause -search to be made himself; or else he will roughly refer us to his solicitors in -London. Mark my words, if he does not. At all events, that last hit of our's -yesterday--coming in, and finding the rough draught of the will in Roberts's -handwriting, amongst the papers in the cabinet left to you with the other -things--was capital. Hang me, Mr. Winslow, if I did not think for a minute that -it was the will itself. However, as it is, we shall have an excellent case of -it; and I should not wonder if it were to go through every court in England, up -to the House of Lords."</p> - -<p class="normal">"A pleasant prospect," said Chandos, drily; and he fell into the silence of -expectation.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is Mr. Chandos Winslow here?" asked a good, clear, round voice, upon the -stairs about five minutes after; and starting up, Chandos opened the door, when, -to his surprise, he beheld Lockwood with the little boy, Tim Stanley.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I hope I've got him here in time," said Lockwood, "though I could not -get over by noon, as you wished; for you see, Chandos, it is a good long round -first to Northferry and then to Elmsly; and I did not receive the message till -five this morning."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos gazed on him in surprise, but shook him warmly, by the hand, and -caressed the boy, saying, at the same time, "I am glad to see you both, -Lockwood; but I certainly had no notion you were coming."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Didn't you send?" exclaimed Lockwood. "Then who the devil did, I wonder? I -had a message this morning shouted in at my window, at five, to bring the boy -over here by noon to-day to meet you. But now we must have some dinner; for I am -hungry enough, and the boy is ravenous. What have you done with Faber? Where's -Atra Cura, if he is no longer behind the horseman?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"We left him at S----," replied Chandos; "he was afraid to come within ten -miles of Elmsly."</p> - -<p class="normal">"He's a poor creature," cried Lockwood, "a very poor creature indeed. There -is something in such weakness that debases prosperity, and makes even misfortune -contemptible; though it is often an element of grandeur, as Seneca justly says: -'Nihil ćque magnam apud nos admirationem occupet, quam homo fortiter miser.'"</p> - -<p class="normal">"He's a little chicken-hearted," said the lawyer; "but he's very right to -keep out of harm's way when he is not paid for going into it. And now, Mr. -Winslow, I had better ring for something to eat for the nice little fellow--a son -of yours, I presume--we can take a bit of lunch at the same time. It is an -agreeable way of occupying time."</p> - -<p class="normal">The luncheon was ordered; and though Chandos denied the degree of -relationship to little Tim imputed, the lawyer remained in the same opinion. It -did not at all spoil Tim's appetite, however. He was not at all aware that he -had ever had a father, and would quite as soon have had Chandos in that capacity -as any one else. He set to heartily then; and so did Lockwood, and eke the -lawyer; but before the latter had eaten two mouthfuls, the messenger who had -been sent to Elmsly returned with a letter for him.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Soon decided!" said Mr. Miles; "he has not taken long to consider." And -after opening the cover containing the epistle addressed to himself, he held the -one enclosed in his hand, without looking at the direction, while he read the -other.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, this takes me by surprise!" said the lawyer; "remorse of conscience, -evidently! Read that, Mr. Winslow; the other is for you too."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos took the letters, and read first, with much wonder, the one which had -been opened; and then broke the seal of the other, which contained these words:--</p> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"Come to me, Chandos. Let us forget the past, and be really brothers for the -future. If you can show me, as I think you hinted, the particulars of the last -will, it shall be acted upon by me as if it were before me. If not, I will put -it in force as far as I recollect it; for I certainly did read it once; but that -is a long time ago, and I do not perfectly remember it. At all events, come to -me; for there is a sort of heavy presentiment upon me, that my life will not -last long; and I would fain die in friendship with my brother.</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 55%">"Yours,</p> -<p style="margin-left: 60%">"<span class="sc">William Winslow</span>."</p> -<br> - -<p class="normal">"It must be so, indeed!" said Chandos Winslow; "this change is too great, too -sudden to be in the ordinary course of events. Some severe illness must be -hanging over him. Come, Mr. Miles, let us go at once, Lockwood will stay with -the boy till we return."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Nay, I will go with you part of the way, at least," said Lockwood; "and you -shall tell me what is the drift of all this as you go; for I am in darkness. Tim -can take care of himself; can't you, Tim?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos threw Lockwood his brother's two letters; and, while he read them -over in silence, little Tim declared he could take care of himself very well. -Lockwood, however, took his hat and accompanied his half-brother and the lawyer -on their way, sometimes asking a question, sometimes falling into a fit of -thought.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I'll tell you what, Chandos," he said at length, "I cannot help thinking -there is some trick in all this. I never saw such a sudden change. Why it is -only three nights ago that he growled at you like a dog."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no, there is no trick," replied Mr. Winslow; "but I fear there is some -serious illness, either commenced or approaching, which has thus depressed his -spirits, and given conscience power to make her voice heard in the stillness of -the passions."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, I am not quite satisfied of that," answered Lockwood, "and shall be -glad to hear the result; but I will not go in with you. We were never friends, -and the sight of me might raise the devil again. I shall look out for you, -however, as you come back."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will lead you the shortest way," said Chandos, speaking to the lawyer, who -was approaching the great gates; "that path takes one half a mile round;" and -proceeding along the road, he did not enter the park till he reached a small -doorway, which stood open during the day.</p> - -<p class="normal">The path with which this doorway communicated, led through the depth of a -splendid wood of Spanish chestnuts, divided by somewhat formal alleys, which -crossed each other in various directions. When Chandos and his companions had -walked on not more than two hundred yards, they could hear the voices of two -persons speaking vehemently, and at the first traversing alley which they came -to, they all turned their heads to the right, whence the sounds proceeded. -Perhaps eighty or ninety yards from them, under the green shade of the wide -leafy trees, were standing a man and a woman. The man Chandos immediately -recognized as his companion in the stage-coach some days before, and in the -woman, whose face was turned towards them, he saw Sally Stanley. She was -throwing about her arms in wild and even fierce gesticulation, and in the -stillness of their footfalls over the turf, he could hear her exclaim, "If you -do, a curse will cleave to you and destroy you, which never failed yet--a curse -which will,"--but then her eyes lighted on the three persons who were passing, -and she darted in amongst the trees.</p> - -<p class="normal">The man followed her, after taking a look round; and Lockwood asked, "Do you -know who those are?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Tim's mother," answered Chandos; "and one of her tribe, I suppose."</p> - -<p class="normal">"One of the gipsies, if you mean that," replied Lockwood; "and the worst -fellow amongst them. If I catch him, I will break every bone in his skin. He -gave me a blow when I had my hands tied, and I will not forget him. But as to -Sally Stanley being one of the gipsies, Chandos, that is a mistake."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then my suspicions are correct;" said Mr. Winslow, with an inquiring look at -the other's face. "How was she saved from the river?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"That I don't know," replied Lockwood; "the gipsies pulled her out, I -suppose. But I thought you must have known all about it, from your fondness for -the boy. If you come to calculate, you will see whose son he must be."</p> - -<p class="normal">"How strange are the turns of fate!" said Chandos; and the whole party fell -into deep thought.</p> - -<p class="normal">Two or three minutes after, Lockwood halted, saying, "I will go out into the -open part of the park, and wait for you under a tree; for I am anxious to have -the first news:" and Chandos and the lawyer walked on to the house, which was -not more than a quarter of a mile in advance. When they were gone, Lockwood -sauntered up and down for about ten minutes--perhaps it might be a little more; -for he was a man accustomed to solitude and his own thoughts; so that lonely -time flew fast with him. At length, however, he thought he heard a light step -running; and the next moment Sally Stanley was by his side. Her face was eager, -and her eyes sparkling, but not with joy.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Lockwood," she said, in a low tone, "Lockwood, run up to the village; to the -inn."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Has anything happened to the boy?" cried Lockwood, with a look of -apprehension.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no!" answered the woman; "but run up--find out what the two men are doing -over here--the two men from S----. Listen to what they say-- and save him if they -are seeking him."</p> - -<p class="normal">Her meaning was not very clear; but there was so much apprehension and -impatience in her look, that Lockwood, saying, "Well, well, I suppose I shall -find out what you mean when I get there," turned away and left her.</p> - -<p class="normal">His long legs and his quick steps soon brought him to the door of the Golden -Bull, at Elmsly; but all seemed quiet on the outside of the house, at least. -There was a little sort of gig, with the horse taken out, standing in the road, -and no other thing to attract attention. Lockwood entered the house, and was -about to walk up to the room where the boy had been left, when in what was -called the parlour, on the left, he heard some men's voices speaking; and in he -went.</p> - -<p class="normal">The room contained two men and a servant girl, putting down some beer and -glasses before them; and Lockwood sat down and asked for a glass of ale. Two or -three sentences passed between the previous occupants of the room, which seemed -principally to refer to their own dinner; but there were words mingled with -their discourse which made the last comer lend an attentive ear; and before the -ale was brought to him, he rose, walked slowly out of the room with a careless -air, hurried up stairs, and spoke a few eager words to the boy Tim.</p> - -<p class="normal">He was answered only by a look of quick intelligence; and after receiving a -few words of clear direction as to the way to Elmsly House, Tim snatched up his -cap and ran off.</p> - -<p class="normal">Lockwood then descended to the parlour again, drunk his ale, and took up an -old newspaper that lay on one of the tables.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLVII.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">We must now turn to Sir William Winslow again. He remained for full a quarter -of an hour in thought; but then he rose, and walked backwards and forwards in -the library, with a quick step: there was a struggle within him. While he had -remained seated, old feelings, old habits of thought, old vices of the mind -began to return upon him. None of the devils which torture and tempt humanity -ever give up their prey without strife; and they wrestled with his spirit still; -but remorse, and wearing, constant apprehension had shaken their hold of him, -and he was strong enough to cast them off. There came too, in aid of better -feelings that longing for companionship, for the support of love or friendship, -which grows upon the heart when worldly enjoyments fail. He thought, what a pity -it was that he and Chandos had not lived together in affection; he knew that it -was his own fault, and he resolved it should be his own fault no longer. Yet he -doubted himself--yet he feared; and at length, after he had walked up and down at -the same hurried pace for full three-quarters of an hour, he started with a -feeling almost of irritation, when the servant opened the door, and announced -that Mr. Winslow and another gentleman were in the drawing-room.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Show them in," said Sir William Winslow, and he stood leaning on the library -table, watching the door.</p> - -<p class="normal">The expression of his brother's countenance at once did away all that was -painful in his feelings. It was full of kindness and tenderness, and advancing -with a quick step, Chandos took Sir William's proffered hand in both his own, -and pressed it warmly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"This is very kind of you, William," he said. "But, good God! how ill you -look! In Heaven's name send for some physician."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, no, Chandos," said Sir William Winslow; "there is no need. I have gone -through much mental pain since I saw you--but of that no more: let us for the -future be brothers indeed--but now to business: you may search where you please -for the will you mention; and I trust in God you may find it."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, William," said Chandos, frankly. "I will tell you where I think it is. -Search for it yourself; I trust you fully."</p> - -<p class="normal">Mr. Miles pulled him by the sleeve, saying, "But my dear Sir, my dear Sir--"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Hush," said Chandos, sternly.--"I think, William," he continued, "from a -memorandum I have found, that the will is in the drawer of that table; and I and -my solicitor will quit the room, if you please, while you search."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Not for the world," replied Sir William Winslow. "But you are mistaken, -Chandos; the will is not there, as you may see;" and he drew out the drawer with -a sharp pull. There appeared nothing but a small piece of vellum, folded like a -letter, and the lawyer immediately exclaimed, "There it is!"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, Sir, it is not," answered Sir William Winslow, sharply; "that is a -letter addressed to me, nothing more."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos smiled, saying, "That is only a part of the contents of the drawer. -Press your thumb tightly on the right side at the back, William. The memorandum -is marked with the initials, S. D. E. which I interpret 'Secret Drawer, Elmsly.' -Now, I know of no secret drawer but the one in that table, which I have once or -twice seen my father open."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William instantly pressed on the inside, as he was directed, but without -effect; and he turned towards the bell, saying, "I will have it broken open; for -I feel it yield under my hand."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Stay, stay," said Chandos, "let me try;" and coming round to that side of -the table, he put his hand into the drawer, and pressed hard. At the first touch -the piece of wood which formed the false back flew out, and an inner drawer was -pushed forward by a spring from behind. It contained a considerable number of -papers, and a small basket full of gold coin. At the top of the papers, however, -was a packet, sealed with black, and marked, in a lawyer's hand, "Last will and -testament of Sir Harry Graves Winslow, Bart." Underneath was written, in Sir -Harry's own handwriting, "For Chandos Winslow, Esq. To be opened before the -funeral."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos did not touch the will; but Sir William took it out and put it into -his hands, saying, "Stay! We had better have more witnesses before you open it;" -and ringing the bell, he ordered the butler to be sent.</p> - -<p class="normal">"My brother, Mr. Winslow," he said, when the man appeared, "has pointed out -to me this secret drawer, which I had not before discovered; and in it we have -found this paper, which seems to be a later will of my father's than that -already read. I wish you to be present while it is examined. Now, Chandos, let -us hear the contents."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos opened it, and placed the paper which he found within the cover in -the hands of Mr. Miles, who, with spectacles on nose, proceeded to read it -aloud, having first ascertained that it was duly signed and attested.</p> - -<p class="normal">The purport of the will was precisely that which Faber had stated. Winslow -Abbey, and the estates attached, with all the furniture, books, and pictures in -the house, were left to Chandos Winslow; but the property was charged with an -annuity of four hundred a year to Faber. A few legacies were given to servants. -Five thousand pounds, in lieu of all other demands, was assigned to Lockwood; -and all other property, real and personal, including a large sum in public -securities, of the existence of which Sir William had been hitherto ignorant, -was left to the deceased baronet's eldest son. The clergyman of the village, and -a gentleman in London, were named as executors, together with Mr. Roberts, whom -Sir Harry probably expected to act for all.</p> - -<p class="normal">When the will had been read, Sir William took his brother's hand, and pressed -it in his own; and nodding his head to the butler, he said, "You may go. Now, my -good Sir," he continued, turning to Mr. Miles, "the best thing you can do is to -take that paper down to the gentleman there named, in the village of Elmsly; -tell him how we found it, and ask him if he is prepared to act. In fact, take -all the necessary steps for substituting this will for the other. I shall of -course consent to all that is required. There may be some difficulty indeed as -to the Abbey property, in regard to which I have acted rashly; but that I must -settle as I can. My brother will join you in a little, at the inn. At present I -wish to speak to him for a few minutes."</p> - -<p class="normal">He spoke in somewhat of his old imperious tone; and the little lawyer took -the hint, and departed rapidly.</p> - -<p class="normal">"And now, Chandos," said Sir William Winslow, in a voice that trembled with -emotion, "tell me one thing. Have you not a boy under your charge, a boy of -about seven or eight years old?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have, William," answered Chandos, with a faint smile; "and as fine and -brave a boy he is as ever lived."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Is he not my son?" demanded Sir William Winslow, in a low tone.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have every reason to think he is," answered Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where is he? where is he?" exclaimed his brother. "I must see him, Chandos; -I must have him here."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That you can have in half-an-hour," answered Chandos: "I left him at the -village inn."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh, send him to me!" cried Sir William: "I knew not she had had a child. -Yet, stay one moment; promise me, Chandos, as a man of honour, if anything -befalls to take me hence, that you will be a father to my boy."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Be you sure I will, William," answered Chandos Winslow. "Is there anything -more?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Yes, one thing more," replied his brother, taking up the paper he had -written in the morning; "I have there put down my wishes--informally perhaps--in -the shape of a will. I have named you my executor; and I am sure that, whether -the will be valid or not, you will carry it out."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Upon my honour," answered Chandos Winslow, "if you have left the boy your -whole property, it shall be his."</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, I have not done that," said Sir William; "I have not wronged you, -Chandos, in this at least: and now send me my boy as soon as may be; but come -yourself afterwards. Take the will with you. No one can tell what may happen -from hour to hour in this life."</p> - -<p class="normal">"That is true, William;" answered Chandos; "but yet I trust there is no such -imminent danger, though it is evident you are far from well. If you would see a -physician, you would really greatly oblige me; but I will speak with you more on -that subject, when I return, which shall be ere long."</p> - -<p class="normal">The moment his brother was gone, Sir William Winslow rang the bell, and sent -for his valet. The man entered with a peculiarly placable and even smiling look; -a visitation with which his countenance was seldom troubled. But it was soon -changed into one of dark malevolence; for the first words of his master were:--"I -sent for you, Benini, to tell you that I shall have no further need of your -services after the end of a month. You have warning to that effect. You may go."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Very well, Sir William," replied the man; "but it might be better for you to -think."</p> - -<p class="normal">"I have thought," answered Sir William, sternly; "you may retire, I say."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man bowed, and left the room; and Sir Winslow murmured, "That is done--I -will not live in fear. Death is better."</p> - -<p class="normal">"There is a man at the hall-door wishes to speak with you, Sir;" said a -footman, entering.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I am busy," said his master; "I cannot be disturbed--Who is he?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I do not know, Sir," answered the servant; "a tall, strong man, well dressed -enough; but with a face like a gipsey, or a mulatto--he said he must and would -see you, as he had business of importance to speak about."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Well, if he must and will see me, send him in," said the baronet; "I think I -will soon dispatch his business."</p> - -<p class="normal">The man retired, and soon returned with the same personage whom Chandos had -seen speaking with her whom we have called hitherto Sally Stanley, in the park.</p> - -<p class="normal">"What do you want with me?" asked Sir William Winslow, fiercely.</p> - -<p class="normal">His visitor paused till the door was shut, and then replied, in a rude, -familiar tone, "I want a little money, Sir William; that's the truth. But if I -get money, I can give money's worth."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow's heart sunk. "Indeed!" he said; "pray, what can you -give?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Silence," answered the man.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Silence!" repeated the baronet in a low voice; "silence about what?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"I will tell you a little story, Sir," was the answer; "I am a poor man, who -get my living how I can. On the fifth of last February, I was in the grounds of -Northferry-house, from a little before five till an hour or two after. Now, I -want a thousand pounds. When I have got it, I will go abroad and join some of my -own people in another country."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow had fallen into a deep fit of thought, and his lips were -very white. Though conscience had cowed him, at first, even with the valet; yet, -on further consideration, his courage had revived; and he had argued that the -Italian could prove little or nothing unsupported by the evidence of others. But -this case was different. He dared not grapple with it. His brain seemed to reel. -His heart felt as if the blood stood still in it. The man had been on the spot -at the time; he had evidently seen all. His testimony joined to that of the -Italian was death. Would he brave it? Would he dare him to do his worst? Would -he undergo trial--risk condemnation. He thought of his son, of his brother, of -his family, of the honour of his name and race: and when the man went away, the -basket, full of gold pieces, which had been found in the secret drawer, was -empty.</p> - -<p class="normal">The unhappy man he left sat for a few minutes with his hands covering his -eyes. Who shall tell the agony of his thoughts? He was roused by some one -tapping at one of the windows which descended to the ground; and starting up, he -beheld a beautiful boy, with a sun-burned face, plainly, but well dressed, -gazing in.</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William strode forward, threw the window open, and gazed at the boy with -strange and new sensations: "Who are you, my dear?" he said, taking his hand, -and leading him in. "Did Mr. Winslow send you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No," answered the boy; "I came to seek him: Mr. Lockwood sent me."</p> - -<p class="normal">"But do you not live with Mr. Winslow?" asked Sir William; "is he not kind to -you?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh! that he is," replied the boy, warmly. "But is he here?"</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William Winslow cast his arms round him, held him to his heart, and wept, -without reply.</p> - -<p class="normal">"No harm has happened to him?" asked the boy, anxiously.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Oh no!" said his father; "no. He promised to send you down to me; but he -must have taken a different road from you. What did you want with him? Do you -know who I am?"</p> - -<p class="normal">"No, I do not," replied the boy; "but if you are Sir William Winslow, his -brother, I was to tell you, in case he was gone"--</p> - -<p class="normal">"And what were you to tell?" demanded the baronet. "I am Sir William -Winslow."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Then put down your ear, and I will whisper it," said the boy; "for I was not -to let any one else hear. Mr. Lockwood said that you were to mount your horse -and ride over to Winslow Abbey as fast as possible, by the east gates of the -park; because there are two constables come over from S----, drinking at the inn; -and we heard them say that they would have you in gaol in an hour, as they had -your brother; but that they would dine first."</p> - -<p class="normal">Sir William gazed at the boy with straining eyes, but without reply; and the -sweet young voice added, "Oh go, go! It is a horrible place a gaol. Any place is -better than that."</p> - -<p class="normal">"It is!" said Sir William Winslow, solemnly; "It is!"</p> - -<p class="normal">Again he held the boy to his heart; he pressed a warm and eager kiss upon his -broad forehead; laid his hand upon his bead, and said aloud, "May God bless -thee, my child!" He then turned abruptly, and quitted the room by a door which -led to a small cabinet beyond. The boy gazed over all the fine things the -library contained for a minute or two; and then asked himself if he should go or -stay. The next moment there was a report of fire-arms, a heavy fall, and a low -groan. The boy was terrified; he knew not at what. He crept towards the door and -listened; but the moment after he heard the voice of Chandos in the hall; and -running out, he caught him by the hand as he was speaking to one of the old -footmen, and said, in a low voice, "Some one has been shooting in the house; and -there is a groaning in that room."</p> - -<p class="normal">"What does he mean?" cried Chandos, addressing the old man in much agitation.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I thought I heard a shot too, Sir, when I was coming to answer your bell," -said the servant, with a white face; "I hope nothing has happened. Master has -been very odd all day."</p> - -<p class="normal">"Where is it, Tim? Where is it?" cried Chandos.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Here!" said the boy, leading the way to the library, and then pointing to -the door.</p> - -<p class="normal">They opened it; and found what had been Sir William Winslow on the floor, -with a pistol firmly clenched in his right hand, and the barrel grasped between -his teeth. A powder-flask and bag of balls lay on a chair; and the carpet was -drenched with blood.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>CHAPTER XLVIII.</h4> - - -<p class="normal">Crowds came and went to and from Elmsly House. For a long week the little -world of the neighbourhood was kept in agitation by facts and falsehoods. -Coroner's juries sat, and returned a verdict as much opposed to common sense as -usual. The constables from S---- went back to their own place unaccompanied, and -lost their labour. The Great Devourer had swallowed up the destined prey of -judges and juries. Sir William Winslow was pronounced to have destroyed himself -in a moment of temporary insanity; and there is no trying the dead for murder. -The people viewed the plain and unostentatious funeral with feelings of greater -awe than is usually felt; for crime, by its happy rarity, has a greater effect -than common death. Wild tales were told; some near to, some far from, the truth; -and the nine days' wonder subsided, leaving the sky clear, and the waters smooth -again.</p> - -<p class="normal">So much for the outside of Elmsly House. In the inside, other scenes were -taking place. Chandos did not quit the house, but, with his solicitor, remained -in possession of that which was now his own; but the second night after the -fatal event, when the coroner had sat and his jury had returned their verdict, -the old servant Jacob came to his young master in the library, to tell him that -there was a woman walking round and round the house, and weeping. "I saw her -just now, Sir," said the man; "and she seems flesh and blood; but were it not -for that, I could almost swear that it was poor Susan Grey, of the mill, who -drowned herself, you may remember."</p> - -<p class="normal">"She was saved, my good friend," answered Chandos. "I will go and speak to -her."</p> - -<p class="normal">He went, and what took place he did not ever care to repeat; but on his -return he ordered the hall door to be left open night and day, and no one to -oppose the entrance of that woman at any time, or to speak to her if they saw -her. Each night she visited the room where the body of Sir William Winslow lay, -and sat beside it from the hour of midnight till the east grew gray. On the -night before the funeral she covered the coffin with ivy-leaves, and lingered -till it was quite light ere she departed. Chandos Winslow was already up; and a -servant, who watched at the door, instantly gave him notice that she was going -forth. He followed her at once, and spoke to her both long and earnestly. The -servants from the windows saw him show her a paper too; but she did not return -with him to the house, which they judged by his gestures that he asked her to -do.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the following day, he and the boy Tim went out on foot, in deep mourning, -and remained away for several hours; and in the evening they set out for London.</p> - -<p class="normal">The first visit of Chandos was, as might be expected to the house of General -Tracy; but he had little more to tell than the party there already knew, for his -letters had been frequent during the last week. He thought Rose looked more -lovely than ever; and though all that she had gone through, and the dark events -which had connected themselves with the rise and progress of their love, had -cast a saddening shade over the sparkling brightness of her face, yet there -seemed to the eyes of Chandos more gained than lost by that softening -melancholy. When Emily appeared, she was in mourning, not very deep, yet -sufficient to mark a sense of the painful circumstances under which she had been -freed from her ill-starred engagement to his brother. She greeted him warmly and -affectionately; and gazed at him and Rose as they sat together on the sofa, as -if she fancied, in her desponding mood, that in their happiness would consist -her future. A brighter fate, however, was reserved for her at last.</p> - -<p class="normal">A good deal of business remained for Chandos to transact. His brother's will, -by which a thousand per annum was bequeathed to "the boy, now under the charge -of Chandos Winslow, Esq.," was proved; and, to avoid all doubt or cavil which -such vague expressions might cause at a future period, Chandos at once secured -the annuity to his little protégé by deed. With Lord Overton, he found no -difficulty. The production of his father's second will showed at once that Sir -William Winslow had no power to sell the Winslow Abbey estate; and the money to -repay the sum which had been received as part payment was easily raised upon the -Elmsly property. The remainder of the rents of that portion of his land the -young baronet set aside as a sinking-fund to pay off the encumbrance; and from -that source, with the money in the public funds, the property was cleared in a -few years. When all the necessary arrangements were complete in London, Chandos -left the little boy at the house of General Tracy, and went down again to -prepare Winslow Abbey for the reception of a bride. Much was wanting; but skill, -and taste, and ample means accomplished with great speed the reparation of all -that many years of neglect had done to dilapidate the building, and desolate the -grounds.</p> - -<p class="normal">It was one day while thus employed that he was joined in the park by -Lockwood, who came to tell him that a young gipsey had been to his house to ask -where Chandos was, and to request him to come down to the wood on the other side -of the river.</p> - -<p class="normal">"I fear," said Lockwood, "that poor girl is very ill, from what the lad told -me."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos went instantly to the spot pointed out, and found the apprehensions -of Lockwood fully verified. Under a coarse, dingy blanket, hung between two -trees, to give more air than one of the ordinary gipsey tents afforded, with -dimmed eyes and sunken cheeks, lay the once lovely Susan Grey. Her mind was -wandering very much; but she knew Chandos at once; and from time to time the -troubled stream of her thoughts seemed to become suddenly clear. The young -gentleman remained by her side for more than two hours with several of the -gipsies, both male and female, looking on. In the course of her rambling and -broken conversation, much of her preceding history was told. It seemed that when -she had cast herself headlong from the bank into the river, near Elmsly, some -gipsies had been passing by; and an old man, the head of the tribe, had rescued -her. It was an exploit of his old age, and he was proud of it; and loving her -because he had saved her from destruction, he adopted her as his daughter. Her -superior knowledge, for she had been carefully educated, and even the occasional -aberration of her intellect, and the quick decision of character which bitter -misfortune sometimes gives, soon obtained for her great consideration in the -tribe, which was confirmed by the accidental fulfilment of many of her fortunate -guesses. So of course we must call them; but it is to be remarked that she -herself, even in her last hour, maintained that her predictions proceeded from a -real foresight of coming events. Although she had eagerly sought to see Chandos, -he could only discover that she had one request to make, and that referred to -her interment.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Let me have Christian burial," she said more than once; "for I die a -Christian; and lay me beside him who should have been my husband."</p> - -<p class="normal">Chandos promised, and he kept his word; for, much to the scandal of some, the -poor miller's erring daughter, the wandering gipsey woman, lies in the vault of -the Winslow family.</p> - -<p class="normal">"Ay, she came to choose her place more than a month ago," said the old -sexton, after the funeral: "she gave me two golden sovereigns one night, to let -her have the keys of the vault for two hours; and I knew very well what she came -for, so I didn't disturb her."</p> - -<p class="normal">It was in the brown autumn time that Rose Tracy gave her hand to Chandos -Winslow; and at Christmas the whole party assembled round the fire at -Northferry. By the side of Emily, whose cheek had regained the rose, and whose -lip had won back its smiles, sat Horace Fleming. He looked very happy. Something -was whispered to Emily, while the rest were busy with other things. "No Horace," -she said; "yet three months, and then if you will."</p> - -<p class="normal">A few other characters remain to be disposed of; but as no great length of -time has passed since the events just detailed took place, the fate of several -of our people is still hanging in the balance where we weigh till death. Little -Tim is now, I believe, at Eton; and is a remarkably intelligent and amiable boy. -The young gentleman will excuse my not mentioning the name he now goes by. It is -neither Winslow nor Stanley. Lockwood is precisely the same being as when -Chandos first met with him--down to the leather gaiters. One satisfactory thing -has occurred within my own knowledge. The Italian, Benini, is working in chains -at Leghorn. He went into the service of a Russian nobleman, who, to Benini's -great grief, was cruelly assassinated at Sienna. The police of Tuscany, however, -did not like Benini to be so much afflicted; and they tried him for murder. He -persisted in declaring his innocence; but the incredulous brutes would not -believe him; and under the mild laws of that mild government, he was condemned -to hard labour for life.</p> - -<p class="normal">One word more: Mr. Scriptolemus Bond is a Valet de Place, in Paris, where he -exercises his abilities in the same direction as before, though in a narrower -sphere. He, however, is contented with his fate, although repinings will -sometimes visit him, especially when a share list meets his eyes.</p> - -<p class="normal">On the contrary, Chandos Winslow, and Rose his wife, are contented, without -repining. They may have to suffer some evils, as a healthy man will have a cold -now and then; but if we were to look into all hearts, the grand secret which -they would display is this, that, balance the account of life how we will, the -sum of happiness is in favour of virtue. Without it, there is no contentment; -and with it, the peace of God which passes all understanding, surpasses -everything that earth can give.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>THE END.</h4> -<br> -<br> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Whim, and Its Consequences, by -G. P. R. 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