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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..fef7784 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66581 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66581) diff --git a/old/66581-0.txt b/old/66581-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index c333854..0000000 --- a/old/66581-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5945 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Colville of the Guards, Volume II (of 3), by -James Grant - -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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Colville of the Guards, Volume II (of 3) - -Author: James Grant - -Release Date: October 20, 2021 [eBook #66581] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Al Haines - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COLVILLE OF THE GUARDS, VOLUME II -(OF 3) *** - - - - - - - COLVILLE OF THE GUARDS - - - BY - - JAMES GRANT - - AUTHOR OF - "THE ROMANCE OF WAR," "THE CAMERONIANS," - "THE SCOTTISH CAVALIER," - ETC., ETC. - - - - IN THREE VOLUMES. - - VOL. II. - - - - LONDON: - HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, - 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. - 1885. - - _All rights reserved._ - - - - - CONTENTS - - I. The Queen's Shilling - II. In London - III. No. 60, Park Lane - IV. 'So Near and Yet So Far!' - V. 'Some Day.' - VI. Jack Shows His Teeth - VII. The Daughter of Nox - VIII. Mrs. Deroubigne - IX. Was It Not a Dream? - X. Going to the Front - XI. At Jellalabad - XII. The Hadji - XIII. A Fight with the Mohmunds - XIV. In the Lughman Valley - XV. The Fancy Ball - XVI. The 10th Hussars - XVII. Lost - XVIII. The Sequel - XIX. The Hakim Abou Ayoub - XX. At Cabul - - - - -COLVILLE OF THE GUARDS. - - - -CHAPTER I. - -THE QUEEN'S SHILLING. - -Robert Wodrow, we have stated, had disappeared from his home. - -Ellinor had apparently passed out of his life, and he felt as if he -had nothing more to hope for in it; but the influence of her memory -hung over him still. - -Even the love he bore his poor old mother failed to restrain his wild -impulse, his craving, to begone, he cared not where; thus her -influence also failed in getting him to resume those medical studies -which he once pursued with enthusiasm, but now relinquished with -indifference or disgust; and, under the disappointment and mental -worry produced by Ellinor's falsehood to himself, he failed to -graduate at the expected time. - -'My poor boy!' his mother said again and again, while stroking his -dark brown hair caressingly with her now shrivelled hand; 'that -cold-blooded girl has come between you and your wits.' - -'Don't call her so, mother. Perhaps I did not deserve her,' said he, -humbly. - -'I used to sit and watch you both when children many a time and oft, -and think what a winsome couple you would be in the days to come. Ah -me, Robert, your one ewe lamb, and that stranger took it from you, to -be but a plaything for his idle hours too probably!' - -'Mother, you torture me by all this kind of thing!' exclaimed Robert. - -'It is perhaps but a sudden girlish fancy hers for that man Sleath. -It may pass away and all yet be well.' - -'Never for me, mother. And you think so meanly of me as to take that -view of the matter? I would not and could not with my knowledge of -the present seek to have the past over again, and never more can I -look upon Ellinor Wellwood or think of her save as I would of the -dead. The charm is broken, the flower has lost its fragrance, and -the peach its bloom.' - -'Why should the weakness or falsehood of one person--one person -only--wreck the whole life of another?' asked his father, with some -asperity. 'It should not be so.' - -'The old and the young view these matters differently, father,' said -Robert, gently. - -'True. I have read that "in youth grief is a tempest which makes you -ill; in old age it is only like a cold wind which adds a wrinkle to -your face and one more white lock to the others. Yet there are -people who can feed themselves on their grief till they grow fat on -it."' - -But arguments proved unavailing. The vicinity of Birkwoodbrae had -become intolerable to Robert now, and he resolved that he would go -far away from them and the pleasant birks of Invermay; and he openly -announced his intention of becoming a soldier, adding that nothing -would make him swerve from his purpose, as by that means he would be -taken to other scenes and be under other influences. - -'Most evil ones, I fear!' exclaimed the doctor, striking his hands -together. - -'Oh, my poor infatuated boy!' added his mother, while her tears fell -hotly and fast, and his father started from the table on which the -untasted dinner was spread, tore open his waistcoat as if he was -suffocating, and paced about the room with impatient strides, his -whole form agitated with a kind of convulsive agony that cut Robert -to the soul, but did not make him swerve from his bitter purpose. - -'Consider the society and profligacy you have to encounter--yea, such -as even our ancestor, in the third volume of his _Analecta_, details -when describing the schools of profanity in 1726.' - -Then, after a time, finding that all his opposition was vain, he -said, in a very broken voice, - -'God bless and protect you, Robert, and may He forgive you for all -the sorrow you are causing us, as by such a course you will be lost -to us and to yourself, after all our care and affection, after all -your painful anxieties at college, and after all your good training -and religious education.' - -'In three years I shall be an officer,' exclaimed Robert, -confidently, 'and won't you and the dear old mother be proud of me -then?' - -But the minister shook his silver head. - -'Your future----' he began, and paused. 'Who can see the future?' - -'One above, Robert. And may He give you the grace to think overall -this terrible purpose again.' - -Robert did think again, as he had thought before, deeply and -decidedly, and, to avoid more painful scenes and partings, he quitted -his bed next morning while the sky was dark, and no ray of light -gilded as yet the Ochil peaks. He dressed himself in haste, took a -few necessaries in a handbag, and after kneeling softly and saying a -prayer at the door of the room in which his parents were asleep, he -tore himself as it were out of the house and set forth on his new -path in life, the path by which there might be no returning. - -In that time of supreme bitterness little could the poor fellow see -all that was before him. - -The morning was still dark, but the sky was clear and starry; the -great hills and tall silver birches in the foreground stood blackly -up against it, and he could hear that sound so familiar to his -ears--the rush of the May over its rocky bed. - -He gave a lingering farewell glance at the roof of the old house -which had been his home since first he saw the light there--the -abode, with all its old-fashioned but substantial furniture, to which -his mother had come a smiling and blushing bride in the past -time--the abode, till now, of so much peace, frugality, and -happiness--and with a bitter sigh he turned his eyes resolutely away. - -Then, if aught was required to nerve him, it was the next feature in -the still and sombre landscape; the smokeless chimneys and darkened -windows of Birkwoodbrae--the now empty shrine where so long his idol -had been. - -'Oh, all I have ever loved!' he exclaimed, and, wringing his hands, -set out with all speed upon his way, haunted, however, by the coming -grief of those he was leaving behind when his place was found empty; -when his mother's eyes would have a vacant chair to contemplate and -his father's reverend head was bent with sorrow, as it would be in -the separation that was to come; and what is separation to the loving -but a living death? - -The next day found him among the wide and stately streets of the -Modern Athens, willing to enlist in the first regiment any member of -which came in his way, for he was drawing a chance in the lottery of -life now, and to him all regiments were alike; so, as Fortune had it, -he met a hussar, to whom he expressed his wishes, and from whom he -soon receiyed, with all due formality, that magic coin _the Queen's -Shilling_, and became what is termed 'a Headquarter Recruit,' -enlisting for 'short service'--i.e., six years with the colours. - -Six years! In these days of steam the progress of events is so -rapid, what might not happen in that brief space? - -He had answered all the usual questions by those entitled to make -them as to his age, name, parish, and calling, with others that were -less pleasant, as to whether he had ever served before, or been -marked D. or B.C.; this formality over, and oath of attestation taken -before a bailie of the city--the oath to 'be faithful and bear true -allegiance to Her Majesty, her heirs and successors; obey all orders -of Her Majesty, her heirs and successors; and of all the generals and -officers, &c.,' set over him--being concluded, a night intervening -between enlistment and attestation, nothing remained, as his new -friend, Sam Surcingle, said, 'but to have a drink over it.' - -This opinion was concurred in by several smart but long-legged -fellows in braided trousers, and tight jackets, with caps like -scarlet muffins, jangling jack-spurs, and riding switches, who seemed -all opportunely at hand, and suffering from chronic thirst, all the -more so as the new recruit seemed to have some loose cash; and a -suitable tavern (the 'Scots Grey') being at hand, Robert Wodrow soon -found himself acting as host to a military circle which made up in -heedless jollity and noise what it might lack in rank and distinction. - -Yet among the half-dozen or so of his new friends were, at least, two -of those ill-starred fellows so frequently to be found in our cavalry -regiments at all times, but more especially just now, those who by -extravagance and dissipation or failing to achieve the insane -'cramming' of the present day, had lost their chance of commissions, -and taken 'the shilling' from sheer love of the service, and the -desperate hope of rising in it. - -One of these was a mere youth, who, as Sam Surcingle said, 'had a -long pedigree behind and a long minority before him;' the other, Toby -Chase, the heir to an ancient baronetcy, was older, and drank fast to -drown care, shouting, with a laugh, - -'To-day--to-day is for me; to-morrow is the paradise of the fool! -Your health and promotion, Wodrow, old fellow!' - -Glass succeeded glass; toasts and anecdotes--some of the latter not -very classical--followed each other fast, till the sharp trumpets -blew 'the last post' in the adjoining barrack square of Piershill, -and the hussars had to hurry to quarters, and we are sorry to admit -that for perhaps the first time in his life--even during his college -career--Robert Wodrow had contrived to get disreputably tipsy. - -He had no care for the present and no anticipation of the headache -and shame of the morrow, with the disgusts of the rough riding and -'barrack fatigue,' such as carrying coals or refilling mattresses -with fresh straw; neither was he troubled with the natural reflection -of what would be the emotions of his highly-principled and -purely-minded old father and mother could they have seen him then, -when he had spent the last of his cash on his new comrades, and was -voted the king of good fellows, and with one of the before-mentioned -scarlet muffins on his head, but cocked very much over the right ear, -he flourished a riding-whip, while joining, but with a somewhat -'feathery' voice, in the song, - - 'How happy's the soldier that lives on his pay, - And spends half-a-crown out of sixpence a day! - Little cares he for the bailiff or bum, - When he pays all his debts with a roll on the drum.' - - -And so, for a time, Robert Wodrow passes out of our story; but a time -only. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -IN LONDON. - -Ellinor was thinking of Redmond Sleath--when was she not thinking of -him!--during all that long, long journey from the North to London, -and Mary had been painfully struck by her alternate nervous anxiety -and dull, mechanical acceptance of her own attentions and care during -its progress. She seemed at times like a somnambulist--one moving in -her sleep rather than one to whom the journey should have been an -excitement and a novelty after the long years of quiet and seclusion -at Birkwoodbrae, hence the strain upon her overwrought nerves was ere -long to bring a serious illness upon her. - -A cab--a genuine London cab, one of those clumsy four-wheeled -'growlers,' peculiar to the modern Babylon and to no other -place--cramped, damp, frowsy, far from sweet-smelling, and sorely -perilous for ladies' dresses--had conveyed the sisters, both feeling -somewhat scared and disconsolate, from the Northern Railway to the -classic region of Paddington by day, and luckily for them not by -night. - -The long drive westward by the Euston and Mary-le-Bone Roads had -seemed apparently interminable, and most weary after a long journey -by rail; and then the architecture, construction, and material of the -houses--brick, always and for ever brick--looked strange and foreign -to their eyes, and so ere long they reached the Terrace, which -adjoins Paddington Church. They had read of and heard a deal about -the famous old Court suburb of Kensington, and thought the locality -to which a chance had taken them might prove something like it. - -Mrs. Fubsby, their landlady, whose address had been given to them by -her nephew, Joe Fubsby, guard of the northern train (the chance above -referred to), and hence their selection of such a singular place, -received the weary travellers kindly enough. She seemed a motherly, -well-disposed woman, but soured in disposition by past wrongs or -sorrows. - -She was about forty years of age, had some remains of beauty, and had -seen better days and had other hopes (as usual with her class), all -of which she was not long in hinting. - -The sitting-room into which she ushered them, though scrupulously -clean, had a mouldy odour, suggestive of the adjacent hideous -churchyard; it looked small, poor, and shabby. Gaudy artificial -flowers in vases of Derby spar were on the little mantelpiece, and -some highly-coloured prints in Oxford frames were hung upon the walls. - -The air felt close and heavy--oh, so heavy, the girls thought, after -the fresh, pure breezes of Invermay! In fact, there seemed to be no -air at all. - -Their sweetness and gentleness of manner, together with their -undeniable beauty, attracted and won the--at first -suspicious--landlady, who bustled about and prepared tea for them. -She, however, put great weight upon an introduction coming through -her nephew Joe; and her confidence grew apace when she found Mary -scrupulously correct in her weekly payments, and others of every -kind, and thus she complacently tolerated the presence of Jack in her -household. To have parted with him would have stricken Mary's heart. - -Ere the first day of their residence with her was past, they were in -full possession of Mrs. Fubsby's personal history, which she thrust -upon them with that loquacious communicativeness peculiar to the -English lower orders--at least so much of it as she cared to -tell--how her maiden name was Seraphina-Mary-Ann--how she had married -a gentleman, who, however, did not behave as such in the end, as he -had left her years ago, and she was now reduced to have lodgers or -boarders, and so forth. - -Coming from a secluded country place like their Perthshire parish, -Mary and Ellinor had no real idea of the world or of life, as it is -called--more than all, the bustling, busy, tearing, selfish, and -suspicious life of London, or the mighty and close race for existence -there. They knew not yet that without friends and introductions -employments in teaching music or drawing were all but unattainable. - -A few days passed on. Advertisements were studied daily and replied -to sedulously; but no answer came. They could not know that for each -of these employments there might be two thousand applicants! So -their poor hearts grew hopeless and weary--often sick with alarm as -money dwindled away; and day by day they looked out, either on the -frowsy churchyard, where not a blade of grass grew between the -closely packed tombstones, or the equally frowsy canal, with its -barges cleaving the muddy water and oozy slime; and as they were -totally ignorant of London, for a time, the poor girls supposed it -must be _all_ like their then sordid surroundings. - -Paddington, where Francois Thurot, the famous corsair, won the bride -in whose arms he died in battle, and where in the last century the -Guards coming from Hounslow were wont to halt for the night, prior to -marching for the little London of George II., was, some fifty years -ago, a kind of suburban village, a rural and pretty place, with its -grassy green and the old 'Wheatsheaf' Tavern, where Ben Jonson drank -his beer, even after its quaint Gothic church, where the Sheldons -were entombed by its solemn yew-tree, was replaced by the present -hideous square edifice, with its pillared portico and trumpery cupola -starting from amid that veritable stoneyard of graveslabs, among -which lie the remains of the beautiful Mrs. Siddons and of the -luckless painter Haydon--an odious and festering place, where, Dr. -Ashburner tells us in his work on 'The Dynamics,' his nervous -patients were wont to see nightly the pale and lambent dead-lights -rising from the corrupted soil. - -Whether it was the result of all she had undergone of late, or that -the atmosphere of the place affected Ellinor, Mary never knew; but -her colour faded out--the ruddy tint left her lips, and her dark -hazel eyes grew dull as she became prostrated by a nervous illness, -which added sorely to the cares, the troubles, and expenses of the -latter, for Ellinor required wine and many little luxuries. - -Energy seemed to have left her. Ellinor was but twenty, but already -her life seemed over and done with! - -And now that her secret love affair was apparently a thing completely -of the past, Ellinor showed Mary the gift of Sir Redmond, and -bursting into a flood of hysterical tears told her all--of the -baffled elopement; and then Mary, catching up Jack, covered the dog -with kisses. - -There were at least two reasons why no letters ever reached Dr. -Wodrow, and that, to him, the movements of the sisters seemed -involved in painful mystery. - -Two letters that Mary wrote to him had miscarried, and, as no answers -came to them, with over-sensitiveness and doubt, she misconstrued the -silence of her good old friend, and, believing that he resented -Ellinor's treatment of his son, would now ignore their existence. - -'I shall write no more,' said Mary. 'Can it be that Lady Dunkeld has -ruined us among those who knew us? If so, there is one use in -adversity--we can tell our friends from our enemies.' - -So in sorrowful doubt she did not write again; seeking for employment -and nursing Ellinor occupied all the thoughts of Mary, who became -almost distracted with a fear that the former might be sent by Mrs. -Fubsby to a common hospital. Nothing, perhaps, was further from the -good woman's thoughts; but Mary had heard, or read, of such things. -Thus, fully occupied, she wrote no more; and, as time went past, the -mystery grew at the manse of Kirktoun-Mailler, and in the mind of -Colville also. Everything painful, horrible, and disastrous was -fancied, and advertisements put by the latter in the _Times_, however -carefully yet pointedly worded, were never seen by Mary. So in these -our days of penny post and cheap telegrams, they remained lost, -untraced, and undiscovered by those who loved them best. - -She had both confidence and patience; and patience is mental strength -concentrated. Her religious education had also taught her -resignation, and she felt that 'let the sands drop through the glass -ever so slowly, there is a time when they end; there is a time for us -all; no matter the hour, for God thinks it the best.' - -Yet often as she sat, busy with crewel work for sale, by Ellinor's -bedside, the notes of the passing bell in the cupola of the adjacent -church--a toll unknown in Scotland--smote a gloom upon her heart with -every measured stroke. - -No pessimist was Mary Wellwood in temper or heart, and no -manufacturer of artificial sorrow; yet the idea occurred to her with -terror--what if she should lose Ellinor, and be left alone in this -bitter world? - -As petty trifles, like airs and scraps of frivolous songs, will haunt -the mind in times of dire calamity, even of death, Mary's thoughts -would run persistently on the feathered pets and flowers she had once -at home--even on the sparrows for which she was daily wont to spread -crumbs, where they would find none now; and she actually envied her -old owl; he, at least, was at home in his ivied ruin, that looked -down on Invermay. - -Thinking thus, Mary would sit in the evening twilight by the open -window, through which came the roar of mighty London; but not the -flower-scented air that hovered over their lost home; and while the -stars, dimly seen in the smoke-laden sky of London, stole into sight, -she thought of the green Ochil peaks, over which the same stars were -shining brightly, like vast diamonds set in azure. - -Ellinor recovered and gained strength, but still able to do little -with her pencil. - -Evening walks, as among the green lanes and shady paths in the glen -where the May flows, they could have no more now. They seldom saw -the sun set; and when evening fell the streets in their vicinity -became filled by people whose appearance appalled them. There were -vicious-looking men and more vicious-looking women from the adjacent -Edgware Road; vendors of carrion on wooden skewers, known as -'cat's-meat;' vendors of roasted potatoes and chestnuts; boiled -oranges; of plums, the bloom of which was due to clothes-blue; -vendors of milk, the component parts of which made one shudder; of -queerly-painted pugs and yellow-painted sparrows; of red pots of -earth, with rootless twigs of flowers stuck in them--another London -dodge--yet declared by the vendors to be 'all a-growing--all -a-blowing.' - -With such plants as these Mrs. Fubsby was not to be 'took in,' and so -preferred paper flowers. - -Ellinor contrived to finish one of her best landscapes--a view on the -May--and 'room' was given it by a kind of picture-dealer close by, -but it remained in his window unsold, and apparently unnoticed by -all--save the flies, who did not improve it. - -Mary's confidence at times began to desert her when she felt how hard -it would be for them, all unaided as they were, to win their daily -bread and add to the little pittance they had, among that vast human -tide of busy, cold, careless, and apparently unsympathising people -who poured past her in the streets. - -Her sweet face began to look anxious, sorrowful, and pale under the -ripples of golden brown hair that fell softly over her broad low -forehead; and ere long the two sisters began to want many things to -which they had been accustomed. - -'What is to be the end of it all?' Mary would think, as she came -slowly back to tell Ellinor of some fresh disappointment, or that her -picture was still unsold. Mary was growing paler, Ellinor could -see--yes, she looked older; her figure seemed less round, though -graceful as ever. Her street dress was beginning to look poor and -even shabby. Oh, how sad and horrible it was! - -Mrs. Fubsby pitied the girls for their want of success, while she -admired their perseverance. A well-meaning woman, she had some -suggestions to 'hoffer,' as she said, which made Mary's blood run -cold. - -Among these were two--that, as she was 'so 'andsome,' she might get a -situation in the mantle department of some great shop, or as a -species of lay-figure to show off the goods, and who knew but one of -the 'walkers' might take a fancy to her? or to work a sewing-machine -in the window in the gaze of all those men and boys who would be -certain to crowd thereat, and flatten their noses against the glass -while critically surveying her. Another suggestion was to sell poor -Jack, whom Joe Fubsby said was well worth 'a ten pun' note;' but Mary -would rather have starved than parted with her dog. - -With a burning cheek and a beating heart, and feeling certain that -she would be viewed with suspicion, and perhaps insulted, she -ventured into a shop in the Edgware Road, where an 'honest' dealer -gave her less than the third of the value for Sir Redmond's chain and -locket. This sum helped them on a little; but again finances began -to fall, and, clasping her slim white hands, Mary began to think it -was useless attempting to struggle any more. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -NO. 60, PARK LANE. - -In a work of fiction, says a writer, 'the reader will find a hundred -strange meetings and coincidences--old lovers coming face to face -after years of separation, friends thought dead rising up at the -corners of the streets, and the good characters appearing _ad -libitum_ to confound all the bad in the concluding chapters. -Critics,' he adds, 'laugh at all these wires which pull the Minerva -puppets, but _real life_ has often, more than one imagines, its -strange meetings and coincidences too--old lovers and friends do -start as from Hades into our presence sometimes, and if a good genius -in the shape of a father, or big brother, or a policeman did not come -to the rescue at times when the last hope was failing us, what a deal -more misery there would be in the world.' - -Thus it was, through this doctrine of strange chances, that Mary -Wellwood was soon fated to meet Colville on two occasions, and they -came to pass as follows. - -Mary had clever little hands, and had frequently made up _such_ caps -for Mrs. Fubsby, and arranged her ribbons and laces so nicely, that -she conceived the idea of obtaining some employment for her needle, -as Ellinor still required many little things that were procured for -her with difficulty. - -With high beating heart she one day entered a millinery -establishment, and timidly suggested that she was clever as a worker, -at trimming, cap and bonnet-making, and entreated a trial to be given -her. Her soft voice and pleading face went for nothing. She was -repelled coldly, even superciliously, and the door was pretty plainly -indicated to her; so she issued forth into the bustle of the Edgeware -Road again with a heavy, bitter, and irrepressible sigh. - -It was a dull and depressing day early in October, when what remains -to us of foliage and sunshine are held on a precarious tenure indeed, -and people become conscious of 'snow in the air;' when the gardener's -work consists chiefly of 'sweeping up' the leaves that come rustling -down and tidying borders after the blasts of wind. Frost, however, -had not come, and the parterres of Hyde Park, the phloxes and the -late gladioli, still continued to make a brave show, though the -dahlias drooped heavily when the dews fell. Overhead the sky was -dull and leaden, of the usual London tint, and no one could tell in -what quarter of it the sun was hidden. - -Mary peeped into the dealer's window, and another sigh escaped her. -Ellinor's landscape was still there, and, of course, unsold; so again -she thought to herself, 'what was to be the end of it all?' - -As a last effort she sought a music shop, where she had often given -specimens of her accomplishments on the piano, and where she had -frequently applied, without success, for pupils. - -The proprietors liked her voice, but her pale face, with its rare -charm of expression, and soft violet-blue eyes, was beginning to have -a sad and hunted look. They also (for they were judges) liked her -manner--who did not?--so faultless and graceful in its -self-possession even yet, and her tones so sweetly modulated and -pleasant; thus they were honestly anxious to help her if they could, -and had hinted if she took to the stage she might make a fortune in -'the profession.' - -They had heard of no pupils yet; but music--a musician--an -accomplished pianist was wanted for a dance, to be given on the -morrow night--two guineas were the honorarium--would she accept it? - -She thought what the sum might get for Ellinor, and accepted the -proposal at once. - -The money would be paid her at the house. - -'Where is it?' she asked. - -'No. 60, Park Lane.' - -And her informant added that she must go nicely--at least -neatly--dressed; and she hurried home with a lighter heart. -Distasteful though the position and occupation, it was at least a -beginning, and no one knew aught of her or her antecedents. - -Next night she attired herself with care, gracefully, and, perhaps, -artistically, in a soft and clinging lace-trimmed dress of creamy -Indian muslin. It was perhaps rather too much for the _rĂ´le_ she had -to play; but it was one of her best costumes, with lace at her white -slender throat, and shading her bare and very lovely arms, while her -only ornament was a single white rose in her breast. So, gloved, -shawled, and with her roll of music, she drove away in a 'growler,' -the last words she heard being expressions of admiration at her -appearance from Ellinor and Mrs. Fubsby. - -On past the Marble Arch, and into that aristocratic line of varied -and strange-looking houses, Park Lane, which, in the time of Queen -Anne, was generally known as 'the lane leading to Tyburn,' where the -gallows bore its ghastly freight. - -'Number sixty,' she again told her cabman, when he suddenly pulled -up, and she now remembered that she had omitted to ask to whose house -she was going. Though she ought to have been there among, or prior -to, the first arrivals, the position was so new to her that she was a -little late, and already several carriages were on the line before -her, 'setting down,' at a lighted portico, duly furnished with a -striped canopy and carpeted steps. Thus, during the brief pause that -ensued, she was enabled to see that it was a stately house she was -bound for. Though October, the night was fine, and the windows were -open. She obtained, through them, a glimpse of a -splendidly-furnished double drawing-room, with blue silk curtains -festooned within an arch; already several guests were gliding to and -fro, and the fragrance of flowers and perfumes was wafted outward on -the night air. - -A painted and partially curtained verandah overhung the garden--a -verandah made like a fairy abode by shrubs and flowers, by Chinese -lanterns, ottomans, and couches; and she felt a strange, spasmodic -tightening of the heart, for there was a figure that seemed familiar -to her hanging over a lovely girl, who was flirting languidly with -her fan. - -As one in a dream, she found herself deposited at the door, and -ascending with her music-roll the fast crowding staircase that led to -the dancing-room, attended by a footman as a guide; but the lady of -the house, whoever she was, did not condescend to receive her. And -her pretty bare arms were noticed as she seated herself at the -piano-stool. She had too much dress 'for one in her position,' some -matrons thought suspiciously, all the more so that many men remarked -and admired her; but she adjusted her music and programme, bent her -sweet face closely over the former, and played on, and on, and on, -till her little fingers ached, oh, so wearily, into the hours of the -night and the early hours of the morning. - -But ere the latter came one or two episodes occurred. - -She discovered, first, that she was in the house of Lord Dunkeld! -Parliament was sitting, and his lordship, as one of the precious -sixteen called 'Representative Peers,' was consequently in town; but -for all the good he ever did Scotland or her interests he might as -well have been at the North Pole. - -To Mary Wellwood, with her sensitive pride and memories of the past, -this was a sickening discovery to make! There was, however, no -retreating now. She resolutely kept her face from the guests, and -played on as one in a dream, with the soft patter of feet and -whirling of skirts in her ear. - -Once or twice she thought that the cold, calm eyes of Lady Dunkeld -recognised her, and then, flushing deep to the nape of her delicate -neck, she bent lower still over her music. If it was so, the pale -and handsome peeress made no sign, and gave not the slightest -evidence of recognition. - -The longing to be gone in Mary's heart was intense, and to her the -hours of that night seemed interminable. - -Though 'town was empty,' as she heard, she was thankful that the -rooms were crowded to excess; that the dancers had scarcely room to -move, and thus she had the less chance of recognition. - -Mouthing fools with lisping lips, parted hair, and a great display of -shirt-front were there, and men of brilliant intellect too, with many -stately women and lovely girls such as London alone can boast; and -Blanche Galloway moved among them like a bewitching little queen, -superbly dressed by all the care of Rosette. - -Suddenly Mary had another shock and tightening of the heart when two -familiar voices fell on her ear, and she discovered near her -Colville--Colville and Sir Redmond Sleath, the latter, as usual in -accurate evening costume, with his tawny moustache, _insouciant_ air, -and china-blue eyes. - -The sense of Colville's presence suffocated her, and memory went back -to that last interview in which he suddenly drew her towards him and -kissed her so tenderly and hurried away on their being interrupted, -leaving unsaid what he was bound in honour to say, but urging her to -do nothing rash until 'to-morrow'--the morrow that never came! - -'Hah, when did you come to town?' asked Sir Redmond. - -'More than a month ago,' replied Colville. - -'From Craigmhor?' - -'Yes; you left before I did, you remember?' - -'Sudden business called me to town. When you left how were our fair -friends at Birkwoodbrae?' - -It was terrible for Mary to sit there helplessly and overhear this -conversation; but there was a buzzing sound in her ears, and she -failed to catch Colville's answer; and Sleath spoke again-- - -'I knew you were deuced spooney on the eldest one. Got over it all -now, of course--_pour passer le temps_.' - -'Spooney? I do not choose to have this term applied either to myself -or the lady referred to.' - -'As you please. But surely you had no more intention of committing -yourself seriously with her than I had with her younger sister?' - -'What do you mean by talking of these young ladies in this style to -me?' asked Colville, in a voice that seemed to have suppressed -passion in it, for at that moment he was recalling some of Doctor -Wodrow's communications regarding the speaker. - -'Why, what on earth are they to you? demanded Sleath, focussing him -with his eyeglass. - -Mary did not hear the response, but was aware that Sleath started and -said, - -'What new dodge is this?' - -'I am thinking of going to India again,' said Colville, bluntly, to -change the subject. - -'Again--with all your wealth--what folly!' - -'I seem to have neither kith nor kin to care for, or aught to keep me -here now.' - -'Ah--that red-coat business!' - -'What do you mean?' - -'As some one says, "We all know that half a man's life is often spent -in wanting to put on the red-coat, and the other half in wanting to -put it off."' - -'No part of _your_ life is likely to be spent in either, Sir -Redmond,' said Colville, as he turned on his heel and left him. - -'To India again,' whispered Mary in her heart; 'he thinks of going to -India! Well--what is he to me--what am I to him?' - -Mary observed that he danced little, if at all, and that he certainly -looked grave--even sad and preoccupied, as he had never done at -Birkwoodbrae. - -Colville had never enlightened the Dunkeld family, even before -leaving Craigmhor, of his relationship to the missing sisters, or of -those views, intentions, and the little romantic plan between himself -and Dr. Wodrow, which had proved the cause of so much distress and -mischief. - -Blanche Galloway, her rival, as Mary began to deem her again, was the -gayest of the throng there, and, leaning on Colville's arm clingingly -after a long swinging waltz, was fanning herself, and laughing at -some remark that was, in her own parlance, 'quite too awfully funny.' - -Intent on Colville and on others too, smiling her brightest upon them -all, but on him in particular, and bestowing flowers with great -_empressement_ from her ample bouquet, as she sat with them in the -dimly-lighted conservatory, and flirted with a science born of her -partly French blood, she never bestowed a thought on the weary and -silent musician, any more than on the aiguletted valets who took -about the jellies and ices, etc. - -Mary saw that Colville sat out dances, often with pretty companions, -over whom his handsome head was bent low in confidential -conversation, while he fanned them with gallant assiduity. - -'You play most brilliantly, my dear!' said a soft, sweet voice -suddenly in Mary's ear. - -No one, as yet, had addressed her that night, and she looked up with -a startled air to see a very handsome and motherly-looking woman -regarding her with kindly interest. - -'You have a most exquisite touch,' she continued; 'how I should like -my youngest girl to have some lessons from you--even as a permanent -musical governess. May I speak to Lady Dunkeld about it?' - -'Do not--please do not!' replied Mary, imploringly; 'she knows -nothing about me; but I have another reason for declining----' - -'Indeed.' - -'Yes, madam.' - -'A serious one?' - -'Very--a sickly sister whom I cannot and would not leave to live -alone.' - -'A most creditable reason to give,' said the elderly lady, and was -about to add something more, when Lady Dunkeld suddenly drew near, -and in a hard, metallic voice said, - -'Dear Mrs. Deroubigne, a word with you before supper.' - -So, as the lady left her side, Mary learned that Deroubigne was her -name, and, with gratitude in her heart for the little bit of praise, -recognition, and sympathy, Mary thought she would never forget her. - -The guests filed off to the supper-room, whence ere long came the -murmur of voices, the sounds of laughter, the clink of plates and -glasses, and looking round the empty drawing-room, strewed with -fragments of flowers, lace, muslin, and so forth, Mary, like a hunted -creature, thought only of escape, but was informed that refreshment -for her was set apart from all the rest in a private apartment. - -It was a pretty place, with carved oak furniture, valuable pictures, -and the subdued light of a beautiful lamp was shed on the dainty -napery, silver and quaint blue and gold service of the repast set -before her; but Mary was incapable of eating--food would have choked -her. She held a glass of wine to her tremulous and dry lips, but so -tremulous too were her fingers by long playing that she had to set it -down untasted. - -She then told the valet who attended her that she was too ill to -remain longer, to make her apologies to Lady Dunkeld, and to get her -shawl and cloak from the women in charge of the cloak-room. - -He did so with some surprise, that increased when, on proffering her -two guineas on a silver salver as her fee, she said, sharply, - -'Thanks. Keep the money, or spend it in the servants' hall,' and -hurried away. - -'Off her blessed chump, by jingo!' muttered 'Jeames,' as he thrust -the money into the pocket of his yellow-plush breeches. - -Escaping recognition by Mademoiselle Rosette, who was having a -flirtation in the hall with John Gaiters (Sir Redmond's man), Mary, -in a tumult of distracting thoughts, cabbed it back to St. Mary's -Terrace, so called, though it is a narrow _street_; but that matters -nothing in London, where thoroughfares are called roads, that are -streets or squares, terraces or crescents, and even hills, such as -Ludgate, or vales, such as Maida, without being the slightest -approach to anything of the kind; but such are some of the many -idiosyncrasies of Babylon that puzzle the intelligent foreigner. - -Mary was a wise girl; she knew that the wounded heart of Ellinor, -suffering from certain remorse at her treatment of the loving Robert -Wodrow, and mortification at the conduct of Sleath in never -attempting to visit or seek an explanation, would not be healed by -telling _all_ that she had overheard, and more that she suspected, -now only said that she had recognised him and Colville at the ball -and nothing more. - -But this reticence proved rather a mistake eventually. - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -'SO NEAR AND YET SO FAR!' - -After that night at Number 60, Park Lane, a terrible sense of -humiliation oppressed Mary, and she knew not what to do next. Such -rencontres, she thought, were not likely to happen in the mighty -world of London; yet the next meeting she had with Colville occurred -very soon after, and gave her nearly as great a shock as that at the -ball. - -It was on a murky October Sunday afternoon when Mary, finding herself -near Westminster Abbey, entered the vast building, lured alike by -curiosity to see it and hear the service, for which the bells were -tolling. - -For a moment she looked about her and saw how the mighty cruciform -church towered skyward above the dingy houses, shops, and streets -that lie so near it on one side, and the handsome, open space, with -all its railings and statues, on the other, and, tripping lightly -over the flat gravestones, she entered by the gloomy northern door, -and, after a little timid doubt and hesitation, proceeded to an empty -pew in the north transept. - -The vast height of the shafted columns, the darkened roof that sprang -from them, the dusky depths and ghostly uncertainties of the edifice, -which was of a size and space beyond her conception; the faint, -leaden light of the London afternoon that stole through its lancet -windows, and the grim aspect of the tombs which crowd and disfigure -the long drawn aisles, were all solemn and oppressive to Mary, yet -curiosity detained her, and she was glad to see a few persons--but -how very few they seemed--gathering to hear the service, while the -black-robed vergers glided about, imparting, she thought, something -spectral to the vistas of the place; and to her unaccustomed eyes the -white floating surplices of the officiating clergymen and of the -choir-boys seemed something spectral too. - -A great sense of awe came over her as she thought of all the mighty -dead who lay there, the dead of ages, beneath her very -feet--politicians, warriors, judges, princes, and nobles, -philanthropists, actors, and physicians--the Pantheon of all the -English great--who in fighting the battle of life have added to the -renown of their country. For a time she was drawn from the constant -sense of herself, of her own sorrows, and the contemplation of -thinking how hard it was to win one's daily bread in a vast city. - -Her veil was up, and had any there regarded her face, they would have -seen how pale and sad it looked under the edge of her little hat, and -the ripples of her golden brown hair that fell over her forehead, and -how pathetic was the expression of her long-lashed, violet blue eyes. - -The bells had ceased to clash overhead, and a few people were seated -or kneeling on hassocks in the chancel seats, while some gas jets -began to flicker out as the afternoon light faded from the pointed -windows; and then the deep swell of the organ, and the sweet voices -of the choristers stirred Mary's heart, and moved her to tears, she -knew not why, for the solemnity of the scene soothed, while the music -comforted her, and to hide her emotion she drew down her veil closely. - -While the psalm was being chanted three ladies entered the pew before -her, and as there was not room in it for a gentleman who accompanied -them he took his seat behind them, in the pew occupied by Mary, and -close to her side. - -Her heart stood still, and again the sense of suffocation came with a -spasm into her slender throat, for he who sat beside her was -Colville, and the ladies were Blanche Galloway, Lady Dunkeld, and -Mrs. Deroubigne! - -She respired with difficulty, and then her heart beat fast; the -service was forgotten--unheard, all save the swelling of the organ, -which only seemed an element in the phantasmagoria around her now; -and she strove--but that was impossible--to forget who was by her -side, and almost touching her. - -She wondered if he would recognise her figure; he could scarcely fail -to do so, if he looked at her; but he never did so, and seemed wholly -intent on looking into the dusky obscurities of the church, or was -lost in his own thoughts. He had placed a hand ungloved, with a gold -signet ring thereon--a ring the crest of which Mary remembered -well--on the edge of the pew in which Blanche was seated; and making -a half turn round, with a bright and coquettish smile, she rested her -back against his fingers, as much as to say, she felt them there -caressingly. - -Mary observed this, and also that after a time he withdrew his hand, -with an air of unconsciousness, she thought. - -Blanche wore a magnificent sealskin paletot, which contrasted -powerfully with Mary's somewhat faded jacket and equally faded dress. -How happy and bright and well nourished she looked. There was no -care, no thought, no anxiety in her sparkling dark eyes. Unlike -Mary, she had no dark or dubious future looming far away before her. - -Mary remembered--when was she likely to forget?--that he said he had -no one to care for, and was going away to India; and yet he seemed to -be on remarkably intimate and pleasant terms with these Dunkeld -people. She fancied that Blanche had given him a conscious and -disappointed glance, when he left her to take his seat behind her, as -if she seemed to think his proper place was by her own side; and -perhaps Mary might have seen a disappointed look in his face, had she -seen it at the time. - -They might only be friends, but somehow Blanche gave the silent -watcher the bitter conviction that she was certainly something more. - -Mary knew that Colville had denied being engaged to Blanche, and -ridiculed the rumour as Mrs. Wodrow's gossip. True--but he might be -engaged to her _now_. - -'If he still cares for me,' she thought, 'what a different answer -would I give him now. If not engaged, why are they thus together, -and why does she give him these conscious and confident glances? Was -he deceiving me at--at Birkwoodbrae?' - -When Mary had taken her seat in that pew, she felt a sense of awful -loneliness; but she felt many, many degrees more lonely now. She -felt also far, far removed from him, and those whom he accompanied, -in her homely life and sordid surroundings at Paddington. A vast -gulf seemed thereby to have opened between her and Colville, such as -did not exist at Birkwoodbrae; and she thought of the day when they -fished together in the May, and other days of delicious walks and -rambles under the drooping birches by the sparkling linn, or among -the scented pine woods that were overlooked by the lovely green -hills, amid the bright sunshine and the odour of the purple -heather--of thoughts that came and went--of hopes that dawned, and of -words that were uttered, or left unuttered. At last the service was -over, and the few people who assembled to hear it--many of them -strangers only come to view the church from curiosity--were hastening -away. - -As Mary rose, Colville did so too that she might pass him. - -Still there was no recognition on his part; his eyes were on Blanche -Galloway, and Mary quickly glided out of the church. The rain was -beginning to fall in the chill October evening, and drawing her shawl -close about her she set out on her way homeward, feeling that she -would be thankful for a seat in an omnibus. - -When she looked back, with an impulse she could not resist, she saw -Colville come forth with Blanche, the other two ladies following, as -if the arrangement was a tacit one. They all entered the stately -Dunkeld carriage, the driver and servants of which wore ample fur -tippets. The door was closed with a bang, and they drove off, -passing Mary on the way, and bestowing on her a few spots of mud. - -'To be so near--and yet so far!' she thought, with a greater -bitterness of heart than she ever thought to feel--she was usually so -resigned and sweetly patient; but she seemed to know the worst now, -and that all was over at last. - -The very circumstance of her having to wander alone and unescorted -through the streets of London on such an evening seemed to impress -upon her still more the difference of position, and the gulf that lay -between her and those she had seen whirling away, as she doubted not, -to No. 60, Park Lane. - -That she had been recognised by some one there on the night of the -ball, she thought she had mortifying proof when next she presented -herself before the hitherto friendly proprietors of the music-shop in -quest of pupils or some employment. - -She found their manner curt, changed, and cold. - -'You need return no more,' she was told. - -'Why?' - -'You failed to give satisfaction when we found you employment last.' - -'In what way?' asked Mary, in a breathless voice. - -'Lady Dunkeld informed us that you left the house abruptly and in a -mysterious way.' - -Lady Dunkeld! So she in the plentitude of her wealth, power, and -position was following up with a vendetta poor Mary Wellwood. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -'SOME DAY.' - -The sale of Ellinor's landscape for a sum beyond what she had -expected for it, came like a gleam of hope to the two lonely girls, -and the place in the window where it had hung so long was now empty. - -'I wonder who bought it?' said she. - -'That matters little,' replied Mary; 'his fancy, however, will give -you encouragement, nevertheless.' - -Ellinor blushed with pleasure. Her picture was sold, but she little -knew to whom. - -She was now convalescent, able to go abroad, and, like Mary, she had -also the coincidence of a strange and unexpected meeting. - -One day, when the weather was clear and sunny for the season, she -went to Hyde Park with her sketch-book, encouraged to fresh efforts -by her success, to make another drawing. The subject was to be some -quaint old trees she had noticed, and which she hoped might find a -purchaser in some one who knew the locality. - -October had given these old oaks its choicest tints, and, while some -of their leaves were russet-green, others were like burnished bronze, -and were red of many hues; and, all the better for artistic purposes, -the chief of these venerable and gnarled trees had a story, for under -it Horace Walpole, as he tells us, was robbed in the winter of 1749 -by the fashionable footpad Maclean. - -'One night in the beginning of November,' he writes, 'as I was -returning from Holland House by moonlight, about ten o'clock, I was -attacked by two highwaymen in Hyde Park, and the pistol of one of -them, going off accidentally, razed the skin under my eye, left some -marks of shot on my face, and stunned me. The ball went through my -hat, and, if I had sat an inch nearer to the left side, it must have -gone through my head.' - -This event occurred within half-a-mile of Piccadilly, and Ellinor, -thinking how it would enhance the value of her little landscape, set -to work in sketching the group of trees. - -So intent was she with her pencil that for some time she was unaware -that she was observed, or that anyone was near her in that part of -the then usually deserted Park, till she suddenly saw a soldier--a -hussar--standing before her. - -'Robert--Robert Wodrow!' she exclaimed, in a strange voice all unlike -her own, as the pencil dropped from her nerveless hand. 'What does -this dress--what does all this mean?' - -'Ask yourself, Ellinor.' - -Tears started to her eyes at the familiar voice, and so glad was she -to see his familiar face that, but for his too probable misconception -of her feelings and the eyes of passers-by, she would have thrown her -arms round his neck and kissed him. - -All unaware that he was so near her, Robert Wodrow had been strolling -through the Park, thinking the while of a song that Ellinor had been -wont to sing to him often in past days-- - - 'Some day, some day I shall meet you-- - Love, I know not when or how-- - Only this, only this, that once you loved me: - Only this, I love you now, I love you now!' - - -The tender and passionate refrain was in his mind, and actually -hovering on his lips, when the face and form of Ellinor came suddenly -before him. - -'So you can amuse yourself thus,' said he, picking up her pencil, -'and in spite of all the misery that has fallen on me.' - -'I am working thus for daily bread, Robert; and, oh, I knew not that -you had taken this terrible step.' - -'Becoming a soldier?' - -'Yes.' - -Robert Wodrow was again face to face with the girl he loved with a -love so unselfish and passionate, and so ungrudgingly given in all -its fulness and tenderness, yet he made no attempt to take her hand. - -She thought that he never looked so handsome as he did then, in his -smart hussar tunic--blue, faced with red and braided with yellow. -Club drill and sword exercise had developed every muscle, while -setting-up drill and the riding-school had given him that air and -bearing our light cavalrymen alone possess. - -'Why cast away thus your prospects in life?' she asked, sadly. - -'I have none--I lost them with you.' - -'What dear friends we might have been--nay, were, if with friendship -you would have been content, Robert!' - -'A view you only adopted after Sir Redmond Sleath came.' - -Her pale face coloured deeply, and perhaps guiltily, at this -response, and he regarded her earnestly. She was pale certainly, and -her lips had a pathetic little droop in them, though their wonderful -sweetness of expression yet remained, but her cheeks had lost some of -their girlish roundness and bloom. - -The atmosphere of most unclassic Paddington, with its frowsy canal -and fÅ“tid churchyard, was truly somewhat different from the breeze -that swept the Ochil ranges and down through the Birks of Invermay. - -Robert realised at that moment how dear, how inexpressibly dear to -him, was the girl he had lost, and between whom and himself he had -now opened a complete social gulf, and how their past friendship and -love had crept into his heart and settled there, making her still -more precious to him than life itself. - -When he spoke again his voice was strained and husky, and the tones -of it were as those of a man in mortal pain. - -'How is dear Mary?' - -'Well--very well.' - -'From a remark you let fall about daily bread, Ellinor,' said he, -playing nervously with the lash of his riding-switch, 'I can gather -that you are not married to that man.' - -'Most certainly not. I have never seen him since we left home--for -to us home is not here.' - -'Thank God for your assertion! I have heard a good deal about him -among our fellows; he is a deuced bad lot, and may yet find you out. -If he does, I beg of you to pause, however brilliant his offers of -marriage may be. He dare have no other view; if he had, if he had,' -continued Robert Wodrow, with his teeth set under his dark moustache, -'and the grave had me, I would come back to have vengeance on him! -Remember my words, I implore you, Ellinor, by memory of the pleasant -past, when we were boy and girl together. It is the last favour I -can ask of you, and too probably this is the last time we shall meet -on earth!' - -'What do you mean, Robert?' she said, in an agitated voice. - -'I am only here for a day from Hounslow Barracks, and in about a week -the regiment embarks for India--for Afghanistan, thank God!' - -'How bitterly you speak!' - -'I gave up father, mother, home, peace, and profession when I lost -you; but, pardon me, I did not mean to upbraid.' - -'Forgive me for all I have made you suffer,' said Ellinor, humbly; 'I -feel how unworthy I am of all this great regard,' she added, taking -his hand caressingly between hers; and then, conscious of how her -touch thrilled through him, she withdrew her clasp, and both seemed -on the verge of tears, and might perhaps have indulged in them but -for the vicinity of one or two observant and inquisitive nursemaids, -who marvelled at the interest the young lady evidently took in the -handsome hussar. - -'And now I must go,' said the latter, but lingered still, and, cut to -the heart with sorrow for him, Ellinor pressed her hands upon her -breast, as she yielded to her better nature, but felt that now it was -impossible to retrace or reverse the past. - -'And you leave England for that far-away land so soon?' - -'The sooner the better.' - -'Won't you come and see Mary ere you go?' - -'I should indeed like to see dear Mary once again--she was always -true to me,' said Robert. - -'Do come, then,' urged Ellinor, heedless of the deduction. - -'Not now, for I am almost due at Hounslow; but when I come, I must -be--in uniform.' - -'That matters nothing; no one here knows us or cares for us. Oh, how -happy she will be to see you in one sense, and so sorry in another! -The uniform is but a trifle in one way.' - -'Moments make the year, and trifles life,' said Robert, with bitter -smile, quoting Young's satire. - -Ellinor gave him their address--they shook hands like friends, these -two who might have been all in the world to each other, though in the -world their paths in life would lie far apart now--there was a -minute's pause, and in a moment more Ellinor was alone. - -Her drawing was effectually marred for the day; her head swam and her -hand shook, and forgetting all about Horace Walpole's tree, she -slowly quitted the park. - -'Poor fellow!' she thought, as the hitherto restrained tears flowed -under her veil, 'I have used him ill--and yet how soft and gentle he -is with me!' - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -JACK SHOWS HIS TEETH. - -Fortune seemed to be looking kindly on Mary and Ellinor now, when the -former, through an advertisement, got a couple of pupils, little -girls, in the neighbourhood of Portman Square, and the latter had -actually sold her landscape, and started another. - -'The Linn on the May' had caught the eye of Sir Redmond Sleath when -passing the shop window, not that he particularly cared about -pictures or art of any kind, save the culinary one, but he thought he -recognised the subject--even the style and the landscape--and on -looking more closely, after adjusting his inevitable eyeglass, an -exclamation of surprise or satisfaction, perhaps both, escaped him on -discovering the initials 'E.W.' in one of the lower corners, and he -entered the shop at once to inspect the landscape more closely. - -'I think I know the artist,' said he to the bowing dealer, who was -not much accustomed to visitors of Sleath's style and bearing. 'A -young lady, is she not?' - -'Yes, sir--yes--Miss Ellinor Wellwood.' - -'I thought so. I'll take her work.' - -'Thank you, sir. Shall I send it to your address, your club, or -where, sir?' - -'Neither. I'll take it with me.' - -Cautious in his plans, Sleath was reluctant to give his address, but -the price was soon agreed upon, and the money paid. - -'I want a pair, and will order just such another,' said he. 'Perhaps -you can give me Miss Ellinor Wellwood's address?' - -'Certainly, sir. She lives very near this.' - -'Near this! By Jove!' - -He obtained the number and the street, and went off with the -landscape, and with curious emotions of hope and evil blended -exultantly in his heart. - -'Paddington?' he muttered, as he walked off towards the Marble Arch. -'D--nme, what a game! Are they so reduced, or so ignorant, as to -hang out there? Courage, Redmond, my boy, and that charming bit of -muslin may be your own yet.' - -Sleath had been told plainly enough, and sternly too, by Colville, at -Lady Dunkeld's ball, that Mary and Ellinor were his cousins, who were -ignorant of his identity; but the too-knowing baronet did not believe -a word of his assertions, and, seeing the matter through the medium -of his own evil mind, supposed the story was 'only a red herring -drawn across the scent'--a dodge for purposes of the Guardsman's -own--so he sought counsel of Mr. John Gaiters, while the latter -prepared for him some brandy and seltzer-water. - -'I am awfully spoony on a girl, Gaiters,' said he. - -'That is nothing new, Sir Redmond; but it won't last.' - -'It never does, I fear.' - -'Certainly not with you, sir,' was the flippant reply of the valet. - -'Here is her name and address. You will know her again when you see -her, but she must not know you. Find out all about her--who she is -living with, and all the rest of it--and you will do for me that -which nothing can repay.' - -'By jingo, sir, I would rather do something that could be repaid.' - -'Here is a fiver, anyway, and now be off.' - -Duly instructed, a couple of days afterwards, and disguised by a -false beard and moustache, and clad in a tolerably accurate morning -suit, Mr. John Gaiters, turning up his already tip-tilted nose at -having to traverse so unaristocratic a locality as Paddington, soon -found the terrace and the number, and after an external survey of the -house, by means of the knocker brought to the door a little -maid-of-all-work, on whose cheeks was the black smudge so usual to -her class. - -'Is your mistress at home?' he inquired, blandly. - -'Yes, sir.' - -'Ah, is she handsome? But I need not ask,' he added, insinuatingly. - -'Why, sir?' - -'Because, unless her beauty were not of a more than ordinary -character, she could not afford to have one so excelling as you by -her side.' - -This high-flown speech, which Gaiters copied from some of his -master's, caused the little housemaid to think he was mad or tipsy, -and she was about to close the door with some precipitation, when -Mrs. Fubsby appeared, and, on inquiring for Miss Ellinor Wellwood, he -was informed she was at home. - -The dealer had promptly informed Ellinor that a companion was wanted -for her landscape, and while intent among the many in her portfolio, -she was not surprised when Mrs. Fubsby announced a gentleman visitor, -who knew her face instantly, though she failed to recognise the -bearer of many gifts of flowers and game when at Birkwoodbrae. - -With all his vulgar assurance, the valet felt himself for a little -time daunted or abashed by the presence and bearing of Ellinor, to -whom with some hesitation he told the object of his visit--he had -bought her picture, and a friend of his wished one precisely like it; -and while he was speaking, Jack, the terrier, with a dog's strange -instincts, maintained a most unpleasant snarling under the sofa, and -Gaiters, remembering the episode of his master, felt correspondingly -uneasy. For 'though love be proverbially blind, hatred has a sharp -sight,' and so had Jack, who showed his white glittering teeth from -time to time. 'Human beings have their instinctive likes and -dislikes, and why not dogs?' asks a writer. 'We cannot tell what -expression of countenance they consider malevolent, or menacing, or -murderous; but certain it is that they often exhibit unaccountable -antipathy to some individual, while most affectionate and amicable -towards all the rest of the world.' - -So Jack's antipathy to Sleath now extended to his emissary Gaiters. - -The landscape was soon agreed about--money was no object to the -visitor, who quickly selected a subject from a rough sketch, which -Ellinor perceived with some surprise he held upside-down, a curious -fancy in a connoisseur and patron of art, and, in the interests of -his knavish master, Gaiters, anxious to learn the entire _carte du -pays_, said, - -'Do you live here alone, Miss Wellwood?' - -'I am not Miss Wellwood--my sister is,' replied Ellinor, with a -little hauteur of manner. - -'Is she, too, an artist?' - -'No.' - -'And you live together--so sorry I had not the pleasure of seeing -her.' - -Ellinor thought this evinced curiosity; but, thinking she might -advance the interests of Mary, she said, as Mr. Gaiters took up his -hat, - -'At this hour she is usually with her pupils at Portmore Square.' - -'Ah--at this hour; we must make a note of that,' thought Mr. John -Gaiters, and, forgetting again to refer to the landscape, he bowed -himself out, hailed a hansom, and drove away, having obtained all the -information his master wanted--to wit, that the sisters were living -together, unprotected, in somewhat humble lodgings, and that Ellinor, -at the particular time mentioned, was always alone. - -'Such a pleasant and haffable gentleman, and with such 'ansome -whiskers,' commented Mrs. Fubsby. 'Drat that dog--why did it worrit -so about him!' - -The report made to Sir Redmond by his subservient emissary piqued and -encouraged him in his nefarious schemes. - -'Every woman has her price,' thought he, as he sipped his wine that -evening after a cosy dinner at his club, and dreamily gazed down the -gas-lighted vista of Pall Mall; 'if not to me, this little one will -become the prize--the prey of some other fellow; so, with the basis I -have for future operations, why not to me? On some pretence or other -I snail get her wheedled over to the Continent, and then the game is -my own.' - -In his instance it could not be said that - - 'Evil is wrought by want of thought, - As well as want of heart,' - -for he gave his whole thoughts, and his heart too--such as the latter -was--to the consideration and perfection of his schemes, and exulted -in the idea of outwitting Colville, if he knew--as Sleath scarcely -doubted he did--the residence of the sisters. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -THE DAUGHTER OF NOX. - -'And you have actually found us out--here? How strange!' exclaimed -Ellinor, blushing deeply with pleasure and surprise. - -'Through my appreciative friend--appreciative in art, I mean--who -bought your charming landscape, the view of that dear old--what is -it?--Linn--Linn of the May--yes, darling,' replied Sleath--Sleath the -slimy, with the china-blue eyes and Mephistophelian smile, as he -twirled out his tawny moustache, and regarded the girl with a -passionate expression rippling over his face. '_Après moi le -deluge!_ you will think, perhaps; but now, darling Ellinor, that I -have found you at last, we must not part again.' - -Ere leaving Birkwoodbrae Ellinor had felt mortified, even insulted, -on finding that Sir Redmond, after the night of the frustrated -elopement, made no sign that he remembered her existence; but the -moment she saw him the barriers she had mentally raised between them -fell at once, and she no more sought, as she had done of late, to -erase him from her heart. - -Poor foolish Ellinor! - -'I had ever a hope,' said Sleath, caressing her, 'that I would come -upon you suddenly again, and take you by surprise with the -earnestness and passion of my love; and, Ellinor, the time has -come--thank heaven, the time has come!' - -And he cast his eyes upward and sighed sentimentally to the ceiling. - -'An age seems to have elapsed since that night,' he added. - -'I was at the appointed place,' said Ellinor, softly, and colouring -deeply. - -'So was I,' said Sir Redmond. - -'And why--why----' - -'Did I not appear, you would ask?' - -'Yes--though perhaps it was as well not now.' - -'I was pinned by the leg by that accursed brute of your sister's.' - -'Jack.' - -'D--n him--yes! Pardon me; but there was something grotesque, -humiliating, and exasperating in the whole episode.' - -'I was certain it was thus; but--but why did you never write to me?' - -'Never write to you!' exclaimed Sleath, with well-feigned surprise; -'you left--what's its name--Birkwoodbrae----' - -'Early in September.' - -'Exactly--that is the reason you did not get my letters.' - -'You wrote, then?' exclaimed Ellinor, her soft face brightening with -pleasure. - -'A score of letters, and they were all returned to me from the Post -Office,' replied Sleath, unblushingly. - -So Ellinor thought, 'I have wronged him; it was but a short time ago -since this man loved me passionately, and so he must love me still. -No love worthy of the name would die in a couple of months.' - -'I always wrote in fear, too, dearest Ellinor.' - -'Fear of whom?' - -'Of your sister--of that old devil-dodger Wodrow, that sly, spying -fellow Colville--my uncle, too, who is ailing still, but whose wealth -will all be ours--ours, Ellinor! In my heart of hearts I have ever -looked forward to the time when--on finding one who loved me truly--I -should settle down into a quiet life and be happy, in a cottage near -a wood, and all that sort of thing if necessary, my wants are so -few--so simple; but that is not required; we shall have a mansion in -Belgravia, a moor in the Highlands, a bog in Ireland for the snipe -shooting, a place in the Midlands, and a yacht at Cowes, and heaven -only knows all what more--when my uncle dies.' - -And as he folded her caressingly to his heart and nestled her face in -his neck, the poor little fool believed every word he uttered; and -then Sleath began to talk to her of that dangerous and fascinating -past--the days of their early meeting among the Birks of Invermay. - -Even while caressing and fondling her, his practised eye took in the -whole details of the room in which they were seated, with its -furniture and appurtenances. There was an air of poverty--even -meanness--he thought (for his eye was accustomed to luxury and -splendour) within the place, and this, with the ugly and sordid -prospect without, as seen through the windows, encouraged him greatly -in his insolent and daring projects. - -He would try again to carry off the girl somehow--anyhow and without -delay. Who was to punish him, or who was there to protect her? - -That 'cousin' story of Colville's was, of course, all bosh! The very -circumstance of her residence in such a place as Paddington proved it -to be so. - -By a man of his address and past experience in all manner of worldly -rascality, her timidity, coyness, or scruples must, he thought, be -eventually overcome. He had entered stakes on the race; he would not -readily drop out of the hunt--the pursuit of a helpless girl; if it -did not redound to his credit, it would at least afford him pleasure, -and if successful would flatter his vanity, for her beauty was -undoubted. - -Moreover, he strangely felt somewhat revengeful for the trouble she -had already given him, and to this sentiment the downfall of her -pride and the destruction, if possible, of her delicacy and purity of -nature would be soothing to his spirit. - -Even amid his caresses and love-making there was an easy insolence in -his manner, born of his innate and perverse vulgarity of race and -nature, and encouraged by the girl's unprotected condition, without -parents or brothers; but it was so veiled that poor Ellinor never -suspected it till he said, with something of irritation in his manner, - -'As for the old devil-dodger, we do not require his consent now, I -suppose?' - -'Who--what?' asked Ellinor, with perplexity. - -'Doctor Wodrow--the psalm-singing old beggar.' - -'Do not speak of him so irreverently,' said Ellinor, imploringly; 'he -made a pet of me from my infancy, and I love him as if he was my -father.' - -'Oh,' said Sir Redmond, jealously, 'and his son, too, I suppose?' - -'How can you speak to me thus?' asked Ellinor, as the agonised face -of the young hussar she had seen in the park came upbraidingly before -her. How little Sleath knew or appreciated the depth of her pure, -innocent, and dreamy nature, albeit that, through fanning her -ambition, he had taught her to be false to Robert Wodrow. - -After a pause, resuming his softest tone, he said, while holding her -hands in his, and looking fondly and admiringly down into her soft -hazel eyes, - -'Then, dearest, you will, as before, consent to a private marriage?' - -'If Mary will give me permission,' replied Ellinor, slowly and with -hesitation. - -'Mary--is she your keeper?' - -'She is my dear and only sister.' - -'But--but will she accord her permission?' - -'I can only hope so.' - -'If not?' - -'Then we can but wait.' - -'My uncle's death, for he will never consent.' - -'It is a sad event to look forward to.' - -'Very,' replied Sleath, with difficulty repressing a smile; 'but I -cannot wait.' - -'There must be no running away--no attempt at eloping again,' said -Ellinor, firmly. - -Sir Redmond thought of Jack's teeth, and looked nervously and -furtively about him. - -'Jack is with Mary,' said Ellinor, who detected the glance. - -'As you will--what you please, darling, so that you'll be mine. I'll -see a sky-pilot--I mean a clergyman--on the subject,' he added, -thinking that, after a little coaching, Gaiters might officiate in -that capacity; but then how about the registrar and a church? 'Well, -that is agreed upon, and we shall soon be one.' - -To change the subject for a time, that he might consider the further -development of his nefarious scheme, - -'How on earth did you come to select such a queer locality as this to -reside in?' asked Sleath, looking with genuine surprise at the humble -but neat apartment, where, however, there were now many traces of -ladies' hands and work. - -'It was a chance. We were, and are, so ignorant of London.' - -'And your landlady--you have one, I suppose?' - -'Is the kindest, most attentive, and dearest old thing; not that she -is very old either. And she has seen better days, it would seem.' - -'Of course. I never knew a landlady who had not. And so she is kind -to you?' - -'And to Mary--unvaryingly so.' - -'Ah, I must thank her for all this.' - -'Here she comes to lay the tea things. Mrs. Fubsby,' said Ellinor, -as the latter entered the room, 'this is the gentleman who bought----' - -'Fubsby!' interrupted Sleath, in a dismayed tone. 'What the -devil--Seraphina Fubsby!' - -'Gentleman!' shrieked Mrs. Fubsby, letting her tray fall crash with -all its contents on the floor. 'Villain! double-dyed villain, do we -meet again--again after all these years?' - -'She is mad!' said he, starting to his feet and keeping the table -between herself and him. - -'This is Sir Redmond Sleath!' exclaimed Ellinor, in tones of terror -and explanation. - -'The same man who married me under the name of Redmond, and then -deserted me in France. My husband at last, after all these years of -cruel desertion.' - -'Your husband?' said Ellinor, in a voice like a husky whisper. - -'Yes; and look at the white-faced craven. He does not deny it. -Listen, Miss Ellinor, though what has brought him here I know not. -No good, you maybe assured. I was waiting-maid to Lady Dunkeld in -Paris when he and I became acquainted on the Boulevards, and he -married me under the name of Redmond.' - -'You married me, you mean, or thought you did, you artful and -accursed Jezebel,' exclaimed Sleath, choking with rage. - -'Oh, what is all this I hear?' moaned Ellinor, overwhelmed with -horror, dismay, and humiliation. - -'The bitter truth, young lady,' said Mrs. Fubsby, beginning partly to -take in the situation. - -'You have no proofs now of what you say, you infernal Jezebel, who in -your maturer years entrapped me in my boyhood!' thundered Sleath. - -'No proofs!' - -'No--the old devil-dodger--the curĂ© who performed the ceremony, as I -suppose you will call it, was shot in the days of the Commune.' - -'True, but the records of his chapel still exist.' - -'What is all this to me?' - -'You will soon learn to your cost, now that I have discovered you -under your true name.' - -As related, Mrs. Fubsby (who had resumed her maiden name) was not -without personal attraction; but she was wasted in aspect, though -only about forty--perhaps forty-five--years of age; and now her dark -eyes were ablaze with rage and grief. Thus she spoke the truth when -she said, - -'I was a pretty young woman, Miss Ellinor, when I first met this -wretch in human form; but disappointment, disgust, neglect, and -shame, too, have all made me what I seem now--old-looking, wasted, -and blasted!' - -At this crisis Robert Wodrow came upon the scene. Entering abruptly -and unannounced, he regarded the trio with extreme bewilderment. He -saw Mrs. Fubsby, whom he knew not, convulsed with just indignation; -Ellinor in tears on a sofa, her bowed face hidden in her hands, her -whole air that of one completely crushed, and sitting gathered in a -heap, as it were; while Sleath, pale with rage, spite, and baffled -knavery, was about to withdraw. - -Robert Wodrow never stopped to make any inquiry. He could only -conceive one thing--that Ellinor had been somehow insulted or -wronged. All the jealousy, fury, and hatred that had so long swelled -in his heart now gushed up in fiercer heat, and, endued with thrice -his usual strength thereby, he sprang upon Sleath, grasped him by the -collar behind, and, with many a kick and heavy lash of his -riding-switch thrust him from the room, down the stair, and headlong -into the street, where by one final impetus from his foot he flung -him in a half breathless heap by the kerbstone, and then closed the -house door. - -Gathering himself up quickly, Sleath hastened away, registering a -truly infernal vow of vengeance--a vow all the deeper that it was -unuttered. - -Thus had light been suddenly and luridly thrown on the great secret -of his life--the secret which prevented him from raising his eyes to -Blanche Galloway, as stated in the fifth chapter of our first -volume--which he dared not do as a married man. - -He was decidedly unfortunate in his views regarding Ellinor Wellwood; -and now the daughter of Nox--inevitable Nemesis--had overtaken him! - -Panting with exertion, and with something of a grim laugh, Robert -Wodrow returned to the room, muttering to himself, - -'He'll not forget that last kick with my regulation boot, in the -region of the _os coccygis_. By Jove, I haven't forgotten my Quain -and Turner! And now to find out what all this was about.' - -We need scarcely say that Ellinor's soul almost died within her at -the contemplation of the two narrow escapes she had from ruin and -despair! - -Robert Wodrow literally ground his teeth when he heard of all that -had just transpired. - -He looked worn and haggard, and amid her own mortification Ellinor's -heart bled for him, for she knew that his life had been crushed by -her; while she was ever to him - - 'His love that loved him so, - His love who loved him years ago.' - - -'I don't think, Ellinor, said he, 'that even in my dear old -governor's "Analecta" would he find a quotation suitable to this -fellow's rascality; but I agree with Calvin and Knox in their views -of some men.' - -'How?' - -'That they are born to be damned, and this fellow Sleath is one of -them.' - -'If men or women are bad they often become so through the faults of -each other,' said the landlady; 'but I'll bring my man to book if -there is law to be had in London.' - -And now Mary arrived, accompanied by her faithful four-footed friend, -who recognised Robert Wodrow, despite his hussar uniform, and was -profuse in his delight, leaping almost to his face at times. - -The minutes of this farewell interview sped like lightning! - -Robert Wodrow, without a thought of himself, had always loved Ellinor -in the past, and he loved her still, 'for true love can live even in -despair,' says a writer; but true love is scarce as the phÅ“nix; -and he had for Ellinor, despite her ill-usage of him, all the -reverence that went out with the age of chivalry. - -'I am going far away,' said he, while hot tears rolled over the -cheeks of both girls, and his own too; 'and when we meet again, if -ever--if ever, Ellinor--we shall both be old and cold perhaps--old in -experience, and--thank God--cold in heart--old and cold, and feeling -none of the bitterness of an hour like this!' - - -A few days after the public prints announced the departure of the -Hussars for India, and the sisters thought sadly that, too probably, -never would they see or hear of Robert Wodrow again. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -MRS. DEROUBIGNE. - -The advent of Sleath, and perhaps the influence she had upon the life -of Robert Wodrow, had a crushing effect upon the overwrought nervous -system of Ellinor. She was again ill--ailing with something mental -rather than bodily--and many little comforts were necessary for her, -thus taxing Mary's slender exchequer sorely, and adding to her -anxieties. - -Colville had passed out of the life of the latter, but not quite out -of her thoughts. He was going to India--she had heard him say so. - -Perhaps he was already gone. So far as the newspapers were -concerned, she had seen no notice of his marriage to Blanche -Galloway, an engagement with whom he had so distinctly disavowed. - -For a moment vanity whispered to Mary's heart, was he going far away -that he might forget herself? - -In this idea she was, perhaps, nearer the truth than she knew. Her -first and only love affair--if such it really was--had been a dream, -and she thought, - - 'Life and the world and mine own self are changed - For a dream's sake.' - - -And Colville might, to a great extent, have applied the quotation to -himself, as we may soon show. - -Times there were when Mary thought bitterly, 'Why did he teach me to -love him, and then neglect me so? It was cruel, cruel! I was so -happy and content till he came.' - -And often did this idea haunt her while she taught her little pupils -to play the sweet, low 'Birks of Invermay.' But ere long a shock -awaited her. - -On leaving the house of these pupils one day near Portman Square, she -incidentally saw, when taking her parasol off the hall table, the -visiting-cards of Lady Dunkeld and the Hon. Blanche Galloway lying -there, and a thrill, a presentiment of coming evil, filled her heart; -this emotion was verified when, on calling next day, a brief note was -handed to her, enclosing a little cheque, with the blunt information -that her services were dispensed with. - -Her name had by some means caught the ears of these malevolent ones, -and this, she knew, was the result of their influence and enmity; -and, gentle though her nature, a rush of anger and disgust, not -unmingled with dismay, filled her heart. - -How was she to break this new calamity to poor ailing Ellinor--the -tidings of her rude dismissal? And, loth to return to her home, she -wandered through the streets for a time in aimless misery. - -To add to the gloom of her spirit, it was a foggy November afternoon, -and she felt the most intense depression, all the more so that she -was as yet unaccustomed to the breathless atmosphere, or rather want -of atmosphere--peculiar to London generally, and never so much as in -that season--the month of death, as the French call it. - -Walking onward in the aimless way described, she found herself at the -end of Upper Brook Street, where it opens into Grosvenor Square, and -there a lady was stepping from her carriage before one of the stately -mansions. Mary, full of her own sad thoughts, nearly jostled her, -and, pausing, apologised. - -The lady, a tall and handsome woman, paused too, and Mary recognised -Mrs. Deroubigne, who had complimented her upon her playing, and -spoken so kindly to her at Lady Dunkeld's dance; and something -pleading and pathetic in Mary's whole air and face now made Mrs. -Deroubigne regard her attentively for a moment. - -'We have met before,' said she. 'You are the young lady I had the -pleasure of hearing play at Number 60, Park Lane?' - -'Yes, Mrs. Deroubigne,' replied Mary, in a low voice. - -'You know my name!' - -'I heard it mentioned incidentally, and the kindness of your manner -made it dwell in my memory.' - -'You look both pale and ill, my dear,' said the lady; 'come in, and -let me give you a glass of wine--it will do you good.' - -Mary thought of Lady Dunkeld, with whom she had last seen this lady, -and, pausing, muttered her thanks, and accepted the invitation, but -hesitatingly. - -Little could she foresee that her whole future life hinged--if we may -use the old parliamentary expression--upon that chance meeting with -Mrs. Deroubigne! - -The latter would not, we may be assured--for she was very -aristocratic in her tastes and proclivities--have noticed an ordinary -'person,' young or old, employed to furnish music for any dance she -had been at; but there was something so sweet and pathetic, as -stated, in Mary's face and manner--more than all, something so -perfectly ladylike in her bearing, that Mrs. Deroubigne felt -attracted towards her. - -Mary did not get the proffered wine a moment too late; so much was -she overcome, mentally and bodily, by the bitter mortification to -which she had that day been subjected, that the stately drawing-room -in which she found herself seemed to be whirling round her. - -'As you know my name, my dear,' said Mrs. Deroubigne, 'may I inquire -yours?' - -'Mary Wellwood.' - -The lady's colour changed a little. - -'Wellwood?' she repeated; 'that name was very familiar to me once. I -knew a captain--latterly he was colonel--Wellwood, who left the Army, -and went to reside near Invermay in Scotland. Perhaps he was a -relation?' - -'He was my dear father,' replied Mary, in a broken voice. - -'Indeed--your father! He was my dearest friend.' - -How very dear he had been to her once, the old lady did not say then; -but thereby hung a tale! - -'Your face seemed strangely familiar to me,' she said, while -regarding Mary with tender interest, and patting her hand as she held -it between her two. 'Your father is dead?' - -'And mamma too, otherwise I might not have been reduced to accept the -occupation in which you found me.' - -'This is sad--very sad!' said Mrs. Deroubigne, her eyes suffusing as -she spoke. 'Your father, I repeat, was the dearest friend of my -girlhood--how long, long it seems ago now--my dear girl, I might have -been your mother, and for his sake I should like to act as one to you -now.' - -Mary's heart went forth to the speaker, and then she thought of -Ellinor. The words of Mrs. Deroubigne came as a kind of revelation -to her; she had heard a rumour of some old and early love affair of -her father's, which had led to the bitter family quarrel referred to -in the first chapters of our story. - -'And you knew mamma?' asked Mary, wistfully. - -'Well, indeed; she was the queen of our regiment and the belle of -every town where it was quartered. I can say so now, when I am old -and widowed.' - -'Ellinor is thought very like her.' - -'Who is Ellinor?' - -'My only sister.' - -'If so, she must be very handsome. And are there only you two left -in the world?' - -'Yes,' replied Mary; and little by little Mrs. Deroubigne, with -growing commiseration, elicited from her some information about -herself and sister--their plans and hopes in coming to London; and on -hearing them she muttered something about her own 'two little girls,' -as if comparingly, and shook her head sorrowfully. - -Mrs. Deroubigne was evidently a very charming woman, who had seen -much of the world, and as a friend and companion was clever and -delightful. After a little pause, she said, suddenly, - -'Of course you know your cousin, Captain Wellwood, of the Scots -Guards?' - -'Only by name, and an unfortunate reputation.' - -'Oh, I forgot--there was a family quarrel. He is one of my dearest -friends--Leslie Wellwood Colville, as he calls himself now.' - -'Wellwood--Colville!' said Mary, inquiringly. 'I beg your pardon, -Mrs. Deroubigne, but are there _two_ officers of that name in the -Scots Guards?' - -'No, only one--Wellwood, who added Colville to his name as successor -to a large property--your cousin, in fact--and the peerage he claims, -Lord Colville of Ochiltree.' - -A light seemed to break on Mary; she knew not what to think; she had -no voice to reply. She felt that she changed colour, while a sudden -dryness came over her lips and tongue. - -She heard the door-bell ring, and knew that Mrs. Deroubigne was -speaking again, yet scarcely understood what she said. - -'He starts for India in a day or two, and is to lunch with me this -afternoon. To meet you--a cousin so charming--will be quite a little -surprise for him; and here he comes!' she added, as the door was -opened, and Colville--the identical Colville of Birkwoodbrae--was -ushered in! - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -WAS IT NOT A DREAM? - -He came forward through the long drawing-room with his usual easy -bearing, his head well set up, his military air, and calm, -unflinching eyes, which dilated on seeing Mary Wellwood, and then he -paused. - -For fully a minute there was dead silence--the silence of dumb -bewilderment, and Mary felt how loudly and painfully her heart was -beating; while to both Colville and Mrs. Deroubigne it was apparent -how much she was agitated, thereby involving a secret which the -latter was yet to learn. - -Mary had felt that she had cause to be indignant and to feign -indifference. As the lover who had trifled with her, as she thought, -and gone to the very verge of a declaration or proposal, and then -paused, and he--the obnoxious cousin, the heir of entail, one and the -same person--stood before her, in her eyes of deep violet blue there -came for a brief space the light of a sudden determination, with -something of a horrified stare; but ere Mrs. Deroubigne could -approach an explanation or introduction, Colville sprang towards the -pale and trembling girl, and took both her hands within his own. - -'Mary--Mary Wellwood!' he exclaimed, in a voice full of passion and -pathos; 'you here!--and do we meet again after all? What mystery is -this?' - -'Probably a portion of that which seems to have involved all your -actions of late,' replied Mary, with the slightest _soupçon_ of -hauteur in her manner, while with difficulty restraining her tears. - -'But are you not glad to see me again--you whom I loved, and love -with all my heart?' - -'Captain Colville,' said Mary, attempting, but in vain, to withdraw -her hands, 'this painful and degrading mode of treating me must not -to be resumed!' - -'Painful and degrading? Mary, you know that I love you.' - -'You never told me so. I wish I had never seen you, or that I were -dead!' exclaimed Mary, a little incoherently, while averting her -face, and feeling her determination giving way. - -'Never told you so--but you knew; and we were interrupted when we -parted last; and then I met with that accident, the wound in my right -hand, which prevented me from writing or going to Birkwoodbrae in -time to prevent you and Ellinor from vanishing, without trace, as you -did.' - -By this time she had wrenched her hands away, and, thinking with -alarm and dismay of how Mrs. Deroubigne might view this singular -scene, she covered her face with them. - -'Captain Colville!' she exclaimed, with a tone of expostulation, as -he gently pulled them down, while triumph and joy sparkled in his -eyes. - -'Now, don't look vexed with me any more,' said he, in a tone of -tender entreaty, while kissing her hands. 'My dear, dear -cousin--dearer than all the world to me,' he added, as the mingled -expression of indignation, perplexity, and doubt passed out of her -sweet, pale face; 'let me explain all, and tell you how I love you!' - -Mary was so shaken by all she had lately undergone that she could -only weep now; thus for a moment or two she yielded to him; he -pressed her to his heart, and covered her eyes and lips with -fast-falling kisses, forgetful of the presence of Mrs. Deroubigne, -who looked laughingly on. The good old lady seemed to like the -romance of the situation, and of the episode she had so unwittingly -brought about. - -'And how is Ellinor?' he asked, as Mary drew blushingly back towards -their hostess. - -'Far from well. Of late she has suffered much----' - -'Through my folly?' - -'And other matters too.' - -Mary felt her poor little head in a whirl, with some difficulty -recognising the whole situation. - -So the Colville she had learned to love and her cousin Wellwood were -one and the same person! Thus, much which had puzzled her on many -occasions in the bearing of Dr. Wodrow was accounted for now. They -had been in the plot together. Many things that had seemed -perplexing and strange were now clear as day. She recalled the -initials, and the mystery he made about the W that stood for the -middle name, and remembered that she had seen the Wellwood crest--a -demi-lion--on his signet ring; nay, it was on it now! She recalled, -with some shame and bewilderment, all her sharp and antagonistic -utterances about him and his father, and she cast down her long dark -lashes as these things came to memory. - -And so it was of himself he had spoken, and to himself he had -referred, as having been the worse for wine in the cantonments at -Lahore; himself he had referred to as being 'not a half bad fellow,' -and being wounded in action with the hill tribes; himself on whose -supposed coldness and selfishness he heard her descant; and it was -regard for her as a beautiful and friendless girl, with the charming -tie of cousinship hitherto unknown, that had inspired him as he stood -with her side by side at her parents' grave! - -'I knew not what love really was till I knew you, Mary,' said he, -caressing her again. 'In the world I live and move in, I never -thought it would touch me as it did, for there money seeks money or -rank. Out of novels and plays, I doubted its existence; but I have -learned the sweet lesson at last, and you--the dear cousin who -loathed my very name--were my preceptor, Mary!' - -'But why--oh, why all this mystery--this concealment of your real -position, name, and relationship?' - -'Can you ask me, after what I have said? I wanted to know you -thoroughly, after all Dr. Wodrow had told me about you and Ellinor. -I then wanted you to love me, not as the owner of a landed -estate--not as a lounging Guardsman--not for the pretty woods of -Birkwoodbrae, that I could perhaps give to you, and would have done -so had they not been entailed; but, like the hero of a romance, Mary, -for myself alone.' - -'And now to lunch, dears,' said Mrs. Deroubigne, as she laughingly -kissed Mary. 'I am tired of playing the part of Gooseberry.' - -How much they had to talk about, to describe, to explain to each -other, out of all the cross-purposes, confusion, and pain that had -arisen from her cousin's scheme, the little romance he had concocted, -and the end of which he had not foreseen; while, worse than all, but -for the doctrine of chances, they might never have met again! - -He heard with astonishment of the two episodes of Lady Dunkeld's -dance and Westminster Abbey. - -'To think that I should be so near you, and have no consciousness of -your presence!' he exclaimed. 'Where were my eyes--where was my -heart? My poor little Mary, had you only thought of looking in the -Army List, you would there have seen that your wicked cousin and -Leslie Colville were one and the same man!' - -The astonishment of the latter, on hearing of the recent cruel -conduct of Lady Dunkeld and her daughter, was only equalled by his -just indignation. - -'Oh, for the rarity of Christian charity!' he exclaimed. - -'I can forgive them _now_,' said Mary, in a tremulous voice, and with -a swift, bright glance at Leslie Colville. - -'I cannot,' said he; 'forgiveness is indifference, or nearly so, but -no one can quite forgive a wrong like this. But I see the origin of -this hostility to one who was helpless against it. When I think -how--as you know, my dear Mrs. Deroubigne--how that half-French brat, -Blanche Galloway, in her flirty, Continental way, has sung to me, -played at me, talked to me, and made Å“illades, I am disgusted.' - -'Come now, Captain Colville,' said Mrs. Deroubigne, 'that is scarcely -fair; did you not encourage her a little _Ă la soldat_?' - -'Not at all! She was ever admiring the rose or flower I had in my -button-hole, and when I begged her acceptance thereof, it duly -figured in her bosom or hair afterwards, while she flattered herself, -no doubt, in the depths of her French imaginings--but I shall teach -these Dunkelds a sharp lesson ere I go.' - -'Now that you talk of it--and now especially--I do not see why you -should go to the East at all,' said Mrs. Deroubigne, while Mary grew -paler than before, and felt as if roused from a startling dream. - -'True, true, but needs must now. In sorrow for the loss of Mary, I -volunteered for special service abroad; and so I find her but to lose -her again,' exclaimed Colville. - -'Special service!' she asked, in a strange voice. 'What is that?' - -'It means detached for staff work where--where operations are in -progress,' said he, evasively. - -'Speak to the point, Captain Colville,' said Mrs. Deroubigne. 'You -go to the north-west frontier of India.' - -'India!' repeated Mary, with whitening lips. 'Has life so little joy -for you?' - -'It had but little till within this hour, dearest Mary.' - -'Can you not withdraw your application?' said Mrs. Deroubigne. - -'As a soldier's widow, you should know that, unless overtaken by -illness, I could not do so with honour.' - -'You are right. How unfortunate it is!' - -'So, my darling and I have met but to part again.' - -Mary heard all this with more dismay than she dared exhibit just -then, or trust herself to speak about, and it was with a mingled -sense of joy she found herself pledged, before Mrs. Deroubigne, to be -Leslie Colville's future wife, and saw flashing on her engaged finger -the same diamond ring he had brought for her acceptance on that -eventful day at Birkwoodbrae, for then, as now, Mary Wellwood was the -one woman in the world for him. 'Whether our passion be prudent,' -says Hawley Smart, 'whether the woman we have asked to tread life's -path with us is likely to be approved in our maturer years, we reck -little. She is the one woman, so far as we are concerned just now, -and has she not pledged herself to be so always?' - -But no doubt of himself or of his choice came into the heart of -Colville. She had already been tried like gold in the fire; and he -was yet to be further tried to an extent he little expected. - -When the time came to depart, Mary left Mrs. Deroubigne with a heart -too full of regard and gratitude for utterance in words. She could -only sob on her ample and motherly breast; and Colville, when -conveying her in a cab to that home which he had resolved she must -change for one more suitable, heard of its locality with sorrow and -dismay, and with emotions very different from those of Sir Redmond -Sleath when he obtained the address of Ellinor. - -'Paddington--Paddington Green! My Heaven, how came you to select -such a place?' he exclaimed. - -'Through the guard of the train. We asked his advice,' replied Mary, -simply. - -'This is intolerable! Such a hole--such a den--such a locality! You -must quit it without delay,' he added, as the only homes he knew were -in Mayfair, Tyburnia, and Belgravia: and though his heart was full of -joy the first genuine laugh that escaped him was when he heard the -address he was to inquire for. - -'Mrs. Seraphina Fubsby! Good heavens, where did she pick up such a -name?' - -Mary had no time then to inform him that the good woman was fully -entitled to another. She was too full of her own thoughts, and, -though the fog of that horrible London November day had deepened and -darkened all around her, in her heart there seemed sunshine now! - -Could it be that so much had passed--that events to her so momentous -had occurred--since she had turned away in gloom and almost in -despair from the great door of that house near Portman Square, afraid -even to tell and crush poor Ellinor's heart by tidings of the new -misfortune that had overtaken them? - -Was it not all a dream, from which she would awake to a world of -bitterness? - -But, no. Leslie Colville's betrothal ring was on her finger; his -strong, firm and loving hand was clasping hers; and all about her was -truth and reality. - -'What tidings I bring, dear Ellinor!' she thought, as the cab stopped -at the door of their humble abode, and Leslie Colville sprang out to -assist her to alight as they heard Jack's bark of welcome. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -GOING TO THE FRONT. - -So they were solemnly engaged at last, plighted to each other, these -cousins, and to be married; but when? For Colville had now to face -the perils of the war in Afghanistan ere that event could come to -pass. - -He was going straight and almost immediately to the scene of strife -among the savage passes there, and for Mary to accompany him was -impossible just then, and as Ellinor could not be left alone she -would have to go too; so the idea was not considered for a moment. - -They could but wait the future in trust and hope, and amid the brief -joy of the present time was a dread of that future, for he who was -departing might never--_return_. - -'All is unchanged at Birkwoodbrae, and old Elspat is there in charge, -dearest Mary,' said Colville, 'so you and Ellinor may return if you -will, and live there till I come back from the East.' - -The temptation to do so was strong--the crave to be at home again, to -see the faces of old friends, the dear familiar hills, the silver -birks, and the fast-flowing May. But though understanding each other -fully as the cousins did now, and though their positions as such were -changed and strengthened, Mary in her independence of spirit and -character thought she would prefer to struggle on as they were, till -he could take her there as his wife. - -For her kindness to the sisters, Colville slipped quietly into Mrs. -Fubsby's hand a cheque for an ample sum, saying, after he had heard -her story, that it would help her in her plans to prove herself Lady -Sleath and punish her wrong-doer. - -This was on the following day, when Mary told him the simple story of -all their recent troubles, while he gazed down upon her with eyes -full of truth and tenderness, and her heart was beating tumultuously -with its new-found joy. She knew that he loved her now, he whom she -felt inclined to adore. - -Yet the future seemed to loom darkly before her. There was this -terrible campaign in Afghanistan, with its certain and far -separation, its remote and fearful contingencies to be faced, -endured, and undergone; so Fate seemed still to be cruel to her. - -When, in broken accents and with mingled emotions of anger and shame, -while her head reclined upon his breast, Mary told Colville of Sir -Redmond Sleath's systematic attempts, though secretly married, to -lure away her unsuspecting sister Ellinor, great was the wrath and -fury of her lover. - -Whip in hand, he would assuredly have taken condign vengeance on the -back and limbs of the parvenu baronet, but that the latter had to -quit London--even England--just about that time, in some haste and in -dire disgrace. - -At his club he had gambled deeply with Lord Dunkeld and others, from -whom he had won great sums of money--more than the peer especially -could well afford--and before it was discovered that his wonderful -success was due to the use of _marked_ cards. - -During a game of _quinze_ one of the players--a brother-Guardsman of -Colville's--noticed that several of the cards were in some way -indicated, and, after a careful examination, it was found that all -the fives and the court cards were marked by the prick of a needle at -the corners, and some in the centre, too. - -These marks, though almost invisible to the eye, were recognisable by -the sense of touch. A storm of indignation burst over Sleath. He -was flung down the club stairs, had to eat very 'humble pie' indeed, -and was now gone to the Continent, none knew or cared precisely -where, with a congenial friend, Mr. Adolphus Dewsnap (of whom more -anon); so whatever legal plans Mrs. Fubsby meant to adopt to -relinquish her maiden name and insist upon the adoption of that of -Lady Sleath, were partially frustrated or delayed for a time by the -baronet's disappearance. - -On the very day after the engagement, Mary and Ellinor bade her -farewell--it could scarcely be said with regret, though the good -woman shed abundance of tears on the occasion. - -Colville, who resented as absurd and _infra dig._ Mary's desire of -maintaining herself and adding to the slender patrimony their father -had left them, brought an invitation from Mrs. Deroubigne, in whose -care they were to be left for the future--certainly for a time at -least; and she received them with open arms, and a welcome all the -more warm that she was just then alone, her two little daughters -being absent at a boarding establishment; and, amid the new comforts -and ease that surrounded her in Grosvenor Square, Mary forgot for a -time the old wish of her heart to go 'home,' as she ever considered -Birkwoodbrae her home. - -At the commencement of the present century, Malcolm says 'that this -square is the very _focus_ of feudal grandeur, religion, fashion, -taste, and hospitality, and that the novel-reader must be intimately -acquainted with the description of residents within it, when the -words "Grosvenor Square" are to be found in almost every work of that -species written in the compass of fifty years past.' - -Before the house of Mrs. Deroubigne were still to be seen iron -link-extinguishers, a remnant of the past, when links were carried -before carriages at the West-End till 1807. Though old-fashioned, -the mansion was a lofty and stately one; and Mary, when she gazed -upon the tall windows on the spacious square and the landscape garden -in the centre, with its old trees planted by Kent, wondered if she -was the same Mary Wellwood who for so many weeks past had -contemplated the frowsy view from the windows of her late abode. - -In her regard for Colville, and inspired no doubt by memories of the -past and the dead, Mrs. Deroubigne, to do her justice, was unwavering -in her kindness and hospitality to her new friends; and times there -were when she actually, amid her dream-thoughts, seemed to forget her -own married life, and her heart yearned, warmly and strangely, to the -two orphan girls of her old lover--the girls who might, she averred -laughingly, have been her own daughters, had fate so arranged it. - -'Your face, Mary, always reminds me of your father,' she would say, -taking the girl's dimpled cheeks caressingly between her hands; 'but -yours, Ellinor, suggests to me more of your mamma--you have the same -dreamy hazel eyes. And you are romantic, no doubt?' she added, with -a fond smile. - -'Perhaps; every girl has, it is said, at least one romance in the -course of her life,' said Ellinor, thinking of poor Robert Wodrow and -the wretched Sleath. - -'And, certainly, I have had mine!' said Mrs. Deroubigne, kissing -Mary, while old memories floated through her mind, known and clear to -herself alone. - -Mary thought that though it might be delightful in summer to visit -Birkwoodbrae, with Mrs. Deroubigne as a chaperone, she would never go -back to it as a home on sufferance--on that she was resolved; and -until she was a wedded wife she could but wait in hope, love, and -confidence; besides, Mrs. Deroubigne, at Colville's suggestion, had a -plan for a little tour on the Continent to occupy some of the time of -his absence, and to make the sisters forget some of the -mortifications they had recently undergone. - -Though the temporary loss of Mary and the mystery involving her -movements--her very fate after leaving Perthshire--had so tortured -the heart of Colville that he had resolved to seek for change amid -the stirring scenes of Eastern war once more, he felt that he could -now leave England with emotions of comparative happiness and content. - -He knew that she was in safety--surrounded by every comfort, even by -splendour--and had been saved from much he could not quite foresee, -by the slender but blessed chance of her meeting with Mrs. Deroubigne! - -To him and Mary the few meetings before his departure seemed -heaven-sent--though a sorrowful separation was at hand--the happiest -of all their past existence. - -Neither seemed to question, as yet, how they would feel or could -exist during the months--perhaps the more than year--of separation -that had to come. - -Never, never would she forget the time when he placed the -engagement-ring upon her engaged finger, and when their eyes met in -one long and deep glance--a glance that, though no word was uttered, -proved the silent compact of his avowed and her accepted love. - -So the fatal day came inexorably at last; after a farewell dinner to -him at the Guards' Club in Pall Mall. - -'Good-bye, dear girls,' said he, cheerily; 'good-bye, love -Mary--another kiss and another. I'll bring you back such wonderful -things from India--tiger-skins, and tiger claws set in gold; Delhi -jewellery from Chandney Chowk; ivory carvings, and I know not what -more,' he added, and, in spite of himself, strove to be cheerful; -'and when I do come back, Mary, you will be my own darling little -wife till death parts us.' - -So the hour, the supreme moment, had come at last, and Leslie -Colville was gone! - -His letters were Mary's only solace after that; long letters full of -loving and passionate expression, to be read and re-read again; from -Suez, burning Aden, and beautiful Bombay; they came regularly, but -became fewer and further between as he proceeded up country by -railway, and his last, before they left London for the Continent, -informed her that he had been appointed to the staff at Jellalabad, -where Sir Samuel Browne was concentrating his forces prior to an -advance on Cabul. Thus he would soon be going to the Front. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -AT JELLALABAD. - -'Well, Colville, how do you like India from what you have seen of -it?' asked Colonel Spatterdash, as he sat smoking in his shirt and -pyjamas, for, though the month was March, the solar heat was already -considerable in that part of Afghanistan, and quite disagreeable by -eight in the morning. - -'I don't like it at all,' replied Colville; 'besides, I have been in -India before, and you forget, colonel, that this is not India, but -rather beyond it.' - -'True, I am not likely to forget that, when the rocks are bristling -with Afghan juzails! But, if you don't like it, what the deuce -brought you out now?' - -'To have a new sensation, to see a little more of the world again,' -said Colville, evasively, as he was not disposed to tell his -thoughtless listeners--some four or five officers--assembled for -tiffin (_i.e._, lunch) about his romance, and the temporary loss of -Mary Wellwood. - -'A new sensation!' exclaimed Algy Redhaven, a handsome young captain -of the 10th Hussars, who had just entered the bungalow; 'you are -likely to have it soon enough. Have you heard the news that has just -come in from the front, colonel?' he added to Spatterdash. - -'No--what the devil is up?' growled the old field-officer. - -'Fresh complications are likely at Cabul--the Ameer Shere Ali has -gone to visit the Russian general at Tashkend.' - -'Whew!' whistled old Spatterdash; 'that will likely precipitate -matters. I always thought the invasion of British India by Russia -would be as practicable a few years hence as that of Italy by -Austria, and now, by Jove, we seem close upon it.' - -And since the date we write of the Russians have pushed on to Merv in -Turkomania! - -The group of officers who were invited to the colonel's table were -all happy and heedless young fellows belonging to Sir Samuel Browne's -column, and high in anticipation of a protracted 'shindy' with the -Afghans, as a force was being concentrated at Jellalabad. - -A couple were on the staff, like Colville; one--Redhaven--belonged to -the Royal Hussars; two others to a native infantry regiment; all were -somewhat airily attired, and, till tiffin made its appearance, all -were smoking cheroots so industriously that clouds of their pale -smoke curled among the rough rafters and straw roof of the bungalow. - -Jellalabad, where the fortune of war had then cast them, the winter -residence of the Cabul monarchs since the consolidation of the -Dooranee Empire, is situated in an extensive valley of considerable -beauty and fertility, eight-and-twenty miles long by about four -broad, and the town had before this been rendered memorable by the -heroic stand which Sir Robert Sale, with a handful of British -soldiers, made in it against the Afghans some forty years before. - -In importance it was originally only next to Cabul and Candahar, but -its fortifications had been completely destroyed by General Pollock -after the war that ended in 1842. Like all Afghan cities of note, it -had its Balla Hissar, half palace and half citadel, with a poor -population estimated at from three to ten thousand. - -Many streams fertilise its valley--namely, the Cabul River, which -flows near the walls; the Surkh Rud, or Red River, and the Kara Su, -or Black River, while around it are numerous castles, and picturesque -villages, and groups of forest trees, though an arid desert spreads -in its immediate vicinity. - -Nearly four months had elapsed since Leslie Colville had parted from -Mary Wellwood, and already as many ages seemed to have elapsed since -the few brief days of reunion they had spent together at Grosvenor -Square; and now he knew that many more months must elapse, must be -faced and endured, ere he could hope to turn his steps towards -Europe; and even while sitting there, among these bantering and -somewhat noisy fellows, he looked around him as one in a dream, whose -thoughts were far away, while Mary's soft, sad features came vividly -before him in memory and in their beauty, though the latter, as some -old poet says, - - 'Is in no face, but in the lover's mind.' - - -'How silent you are, Colville!' exclaimed old Spatterdash, -relinquishing the mouthpiece of his hookah for a moment. 'Gad, I -believe the fellow's in love.' - -So full were his thoughts of Mary at that precise moment that he -almost coloured as if they had been read by the colonel, who -continued, in a tone of banter, - -'With you, I suppose, it is, - - "----to bid me not to love - Is to forbid my pulse to move, - My beard to grow, my ears to prick up; - Or, when I'm in the mood, to hiccup." - -Is it so? Well, anyway, stick to the _brandy pawnee_ till tiffin -comes.' - -Again the old familiar sound of the cantonment _ghurries_, or -gong-bells, as they were clanged for the change of sentries, was in -his ear, and the view from the open windows of the bungalow was -strange and striking. - -Far away above the misty horizon rose amid the clouds--and cloudlike -themselves, so bright and varied were their tints--the majestic -mountains that tower between the shallow valley of Jellalabad and the -ramparts of Cabul, and chief of them is the stupendous Suffaidh Koh, -fourteen thousand feet in height, then covered with dazzling white -snow; and if wondrously beautiful by day, it was perhaps still more -so by night, when the full moon lit up its chasms and peaks with its -Asiatic splendour. - -In the immediate foreground, just before the windows of the bungalow, -a curious scene--one illustrative of the distant region and the -manners of our Indian fellow-subjects--was in progress. - -The _Poojah_ of a battalion of H.M. Native Infantry, a Hindoo -regiment, was being celebrated towards evening. - -The battalion, in full marching order, with its colours, was drawn up -in a circle. At each cardinal point of the compass was a small clod -of earth, with barley and rice on it; and in the centre were the -attendant Brahmins with a beautiful young goat, which had been -sprinkled with pure water, barley, and rice. Then the sacrificer -drew a huge Ghoorkali knife, and, after muttering some prayers, by -one trenchant slash severed the head of the goat from its body. At -the moment of immolation twelve guns boomed through the air and drums -were beaten, after which the battalion was wheeled back into line, -and marched by fours into its lines, with band playing and colours -flying. - -Colonel Spatterdash, Colville's host, was a thorough Indian officer -of the old school, who had broiled for so many years in Bengal that -he had lost much of his European identity, all memory of home nearly, -and religion too, and had become so bronzed that evil-disposed -fellows used to hint--but not in his presence--that he had 'a dash of -the tar-brush in him--was fourteen annas to the rupee,' and so forth. - -The wags of the station at Chutneypore declared that he wore a gold -bangle given to him by the orange-visaged Rani of that place, who -liked him as 'a wicked old man,' that squeezed her brown paws when he -assisted her into the silk-curtained howdah of her great tusker -elephant, which had carried 'Colonel Wellesley's' baggage at the -battle of Assaye. - -He was full of old Indian memories of the Rangoon Rangers and -Bhurtpore Bulldogs, as he had heard of them when he came out from -Addiscombe a cadet and griffin; and had many a story to tell of the -pre-railway times, when, if not marching, people travelled by _dĂ¢k_, -night and day, in palanquins; when the old Bengal colonel was a -father to his regiment, the guide of his subalterns, and was never so -happy as when he had a dozen or so at his table, all eager for -_Kowab_, fresh eggs, with Phillibut rice, kedgere, &c., and _Bhola_ -in plenty. - -He was a captain when the mutiny occurred; and its horrors, with the -dismay that his beloved Sepoys--the _Spatterdash-ka-Pultan_, -so-called from his father--should prove untrue to their salt, nearly -broke his heart; and he thought the end of the world had come when -they flung him down a well at Gungawallah; but he was hard to kill. -A banyan-tree that grew half way down broke his fall, and to that he -clung till rescued by some Highlanders, after which he solaced -himself mightily by blowing whole batches of 'pandies' from his guns. - -And now tiffin came, curried chickens, rice, green chillis, mutton -and chutney, &c., &c., with plenty of wine and brandy, all laid out -by his faithful old Kitmutgar, wearing an enormous white turban. - -'Anything,' said the colonel, 'is better than bitter beer that has -been boiling on the dusty road between Peshawur and Jellalabad, till -the cask hoops grow hot in the sun.' - -So he took a huge beaker of _brandy pawnee_, as he reclined in the -cane easy-chair in his well tattied bungalow, with punkah wallahs -crouching in the verandah outside, and smoked his hookah, for he -preferred such a residence to a double-poled tent or a tumble-down -brick house in that city of earthquakes, till the troops marched. - -'I knew your uncle, Wellwood, thoroughly,' said the colonel to -Colville. 'He and I were great chums, and I once saw him do a plucky -thing--a very plucky thing, by Jove!--when we were giving a fellow a -tight flogging under fire.' - -'A flogging under fire--that was remarkable, surely?' - -'Not so in those days; we were never squeamish about anything then.' - -'And this plucky thing?' said Redhaven, the hussar. - -'Convinced me that Wellwood was pretty reckless of life. He had been -soured by some disappointment in love, we heard--the idea of such a -thing!' - -And, while old Splatterdash laughed a little contemptuously at the -thought of a tender passion, Colville, remembering the secret episode -of Mrs. Deroubigne's life, listened with some interest. - -'It came about in this way, you see,' said the colonel, after taking -a long pull at his hookah. 'After we advanced upon Jhansi under Sir -Hugh Rose to crush the rebellious Sepoys who held the place (which -was a town and fortress of the Mahrattas of old), we bombarded it -heavily for four days, but not without resistance, for the shattered -remains of the Gwalior contingent, augmented to twenty-five thousand -bayonets and sabres, and eighteen pieces of cannon from Kalpee, came -marching along the right bank of the Jumna, hoping to raise the -siege, d--n them! - -'In that, however, the Pandies were disappointed. During the -bombardment, when we were pitching shot and shell into each other, a -great thirteen-inch bomb from an old mortar happened to fall close by -where the soldier of a European regiment was tied up to "the -halberts," as we still called the triangles, to receive a hundred and -fifty lashes for insubordination when mad with drink and heat. The -sudden appearance of this great missile, with its fuse burning and -hissing, caused such confusion and consternation that the companies, -formed in hollow square, fell back on all sides, even breaking their -ranks, for none could composedly await such an explosion under their -noses. - -'Instead of yielding to this natural impulse, Wellwood took from his -pocket a penknife, and, walking up to the helpless and terrified -creature who was bound to the triangles, he cut the cords that bound -his wrists and ankles, setting him free, and both had barely time to -retire a little way and throw themselves flat on the ground, when the -great shell burst, and a hurricane of iron swept over them and all -around. Thus did he save this poor fellow, who must inevitably have -perished from his inability to save himself; and Wellwood did more, -for, in consideration of the mental agony the man had undergone, he -remitted the remainder of the punishment; and, by a curious -coincidence, the culprit perished a few days after in the action of -Roohea when saving the life of Wellwood, whom some rebels were about -to bayonet as he lay wounded and helpless on the ground.' - -'This will be an episode in her father's life to tell Mary of when -next I write to her,' thought Colville. And now the conversation -drifted into the subject then uppermost in the minds of all--the -probability of serious complications if Russian intrigues proved -successful at Cabul, and none could expect them to be otherwise when -the Ameer Shere Ali had departed openly to visit General Kauffmann at -Tashkend, in Central Asia, which place, however, he was fated not to -reach. - -The subject that caused our dispute with him, and brought our troops -to Jellalabad and elsewhere upon his frontier, was the dispute known -then as the "Resident" question, because he rather favoured the -Russians, and thus refused to have any such British official at his -court for three reasons--firstly, the person of a Briton would not be -safe there; secondly, that European officers might make demands that -would occasion quarrels; and thirdly, that if Britain was -represented, Russia would expect to be represented also. But it was -known that he was in close correspondence with General Kauffman, and -only feared that a British Resident might, if present, throw some -light upon it; and in the end a convention was signed, by which -Russia bound herself to give at least moral support to the existing -Afghan dynasty. - -An envoy sent by our government to Cabul never reached it, being -forced back at a place called Ali Musjid. For this an apology was -demanded, and Afghanistan was entered by a British army in three -columns that won several victories, and the Ameer finding his case -hopeless started for Tashkend, but died on the way, and was succeeded -by his son, Yakoub Khan, who eventually showed a disposition to come -to terms with us; but in this we are a little anticipating the events -of our story, for, at the time Leslie Colville joined the staff at -Jellalabad, Sir Samuel Browne was, as stated, collecting a force -there, while General Maude relieved his post between that place and -Dakka, and the gallant Roberts, posted further forward at the Peiwar -Pass, was improving the difficult mountain road between that place -and Cabul for the passage of guns and baggage. - -So thus it was that our troops were now engaged in what was known as -the second Afghan War--to counteract Russian influences. - -As the evening advanced and darkness closed in, some yells and oaths -in Hindostanee and Pushtoo were heard at a little distance outside -the hedge of the colonel's compound, and Colville, who had been -looking from a window, now started to his feet. - -'I can't look on and permit that!' he exclaimed. - -'Can't permit what?' asked Spatterdash, tartly. - -'A lot of fellows----' - -'Budmashes, no doubt, by the row they make.' - -'Ill-using one man; and now, as it is time for me to go, colonel, I -shall interfere _en passant_.' - -'Don't think of it--don't bother!' - -'But they may kill him.' - -'What the devil does it matter? A nigger less in the world won't be -missed,' growled Spatterdash, who had lost all sympathy with the -natives since the Mutiny. - -'Call the nearest guard--the picket--or some chowkeydars,' said -Redhaven and others; 'but don't interfere in a row of this kind.' - -Colville, however, buckled on his sword and revolver, lit a fresh -cheroot, laughingly bowed himself out, and hurried away; for, sooth -to say, he was a little tired of old Spatterdash, and as no one -actually thought he would interfere in a native row, no one followed -or accompanied him. - -'The inlying pickets have been doubled to-night by order of the -general,' said the colonel. - -'Why?' asked some one. - -'Because rumour says that the Sirdir Mahmoud Shah, a tearing Afghan -devil, has come to lead the Mohmunds against us.' - -'With what object?' asked Redhaven of the Hussars. - -'A row, of course.' - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -THE HADJI. - -'The world is a small place, after all!' thought Colville, as he left -the Colonel's bungalow behind him. 'Think of hearing here that -anecdote of dear Mary's father from that old subadar! Well, well, -"life," as some one says, "is a perpetual enigma, to which no -theological system offers a satisfactory solution--against the reefs -of which all philosophies break into foam and empty bubbles." But -here are more than bubbles, by Jove! Now what is all this deuced row -about?' he added, drawing his sword, on seeing before him the authors -of the noise he had heard, engaged still in a wild and fierce _mĂªlĂ©e_. - -This was in a sequestered part of the town, and near some of the -ruins of houses shaken down by the earthquakes some forty years ago. -One man was contending single-handed against no less than five, and -in the clear starlight Colville could see the flash of their gleaming -eyes, their set teeth, their dark and infuriated faces. The man -assaulted wore an Afghan costume, a cloak, a kind of blouse with -loose sleeves, and on his head a _loonjee_. The others had flowing -garments and large turbans, and were armed with heavily-loaded clubs, -against which the stranger was defending himself with no small -dexterity with only a pilgrim's staff; for, by his wallet, gourd, and -beads, he was evidently a hadji, who had become involved in a quarrel -with some Wahabis, who, it seemed afterwards, had been mocking him -for praying at the tomb of a Santon, and told him he should call on -God, and on no imaginary saint, on which, he had proceeded at once to -lay about him with his pilgrim's staff. - -'To call a man a Wahabi,' says Sterndale, 'is, to nine-tenths of -Englishmen in India, to call him a fanatic, a rebel, a sort of -Mahometan fenian, one whom the police should take under special -surveillance, and whose every action is open to suspicion.' - -Like the English Puritans, they--in addition to deriding the -intercession of saints--despoiled the mosques of their lamps and -decorations, broke down all shrines, prohibited music and dancing, -and smoking was denounced as a mortal sin; and now those whom -Colville found himself opposed to would undoubtedly--but for his -sword and revolver--have made short work of it with the unfortunate -hadji. - -He drove them back a few paces, and the hadji, while panting for -breath, and streaming with blood from more than one contused wound, -continued to revile them bitterly. - -'Wahabis--accursed Wahabis!' he exclaimed, 'dare they speak to me? I -am a Soonee, not a dog! I am not a Shiah, the follower of Ali, but -an orthodox Soonee, like my forefathers, blessed be God and His -Prophet! Wretches,' he added, with all the ferocious rancour of -religion and race, 'your souls will yet defile hell!' - -'Begone, and leave the man to go on his way,' said Colville, -authoritatively, as he waved his sword, for he knew enough of Arabic -and Hindostanee to understand what was said and the nature of the -brawl. - -'Dogs!' resumed the irate hadji, encouraged by his presence and -succour; 'know ye not that the time is coming when the Wahabis shall -be judged according to their deserts, and each in passing a dead -man's grave shall say, "Would to God that I lay there!"' - -'Dog of a Soonee, when will that time come to pass?' asked one, -jeeringly. - -'When the sun rises in the west,' shrieked the hadji, frantic with -rage; 'when the beast shall rise out of the earth near Mecca; when a -smoke shall cover the earth, and the Mahdi shall come to everyone and -fill the earth with righteousness.' - -And much more to this effect did he vow with singular force and -fluency, for the hadji was an Afghan, and, so far as regards the -external forms of their religion, the Afghans are wonderfully devout, -and so much of their conversation, whatever the subject, is so tinged -with their religion and the Koran that one would imagine the whole -people, from the Ameer to the humblest camel-driver, were engaged in -holy reflections, and scarcely is a sentence uttered by them without -some reference to the Deity. - -One of the Wahabis now seemed to lose what little remains of sense or -temper he had left, and, uttering a savage yell, swung aloft his -ponderous _lohbunda_ or staff, which was heavily shod with iron--a -weapon one well-directed stroke from which would have spattered the -brains of the hadji on the street--but Colville, quick as lightning, -warded off the blow with his sword, in the process of which his right -arm tingled to the shoulder; and as at that moment the tramp of a -patrol from an inlying picquet was heard approaching, the brawlers -took to flight, and Colville was left face to face with the man whose -life he had saved. - -'Sahib, I have to thank you gratefully for this prompt and courageous -succour, but for which these dogs would no doubt have slain me,' said -the pilgrim in English; 'as it is, they have handled me so roughly -that I am barely able to stand.' - -'You speak English very fluently,' said Colville, with genuine -surprise. 'How is this?' - -'My uncle was a _muhafez dufter_, or keeper of the records, in the -office of the district magistrate, near Peshawur, who educated me to -work in his office; but at his death I went back to the hills and -became an Afghan soldier under Shere Ali.' - -'And now----' - -'I am a poor harmless hadji, Mahommed Shah, seeking but to save his -soul,' said he, lowering his keen and glittering eyes, as he looked -steadily around him. 'In saving me you have done a good action, and -what says the fourth chapter of the Koran? "Verily, God will not -wrong anyone, even the weight of an ant, and, if it be a good action, -He will double it, and recompense it in His sight with a great and -just reward." But these thrice accursed Wahabis,' he added, grinding -his teeth with rage, and making thereby a very unpleasant sound, 'may -be swallowed up by the earth as the accuser of Moses was.' - -Colville looked around him warily. In the dark, unlighted, and -tortuous streets of the city this poor man might easily be overtaken -and murdered by these fanatics, if they were--as Colville did not -doubt--still lurking watchfully about, so he said, - -'Come with me to the Balla Hissar; I am quartered there, and can keep -you in safety for the night; besides, your wounds must be dressed, -and in the morning I would advise your instantly quitting Jellalabad.' - -'As-taffur-ullah! that will I, sahib; and by the five keys of -knowledge, I will never forget your kindness.' - -The citadel was close by. There Colville took his new acquaintance -past the sentries to the rooms assigned as his quarters, quaint and -lofty apartments with marble floors, and walls covered with beautiful -arabesques, splendid but comfortless, and, summoning the soldier who -acted as his servant, with lights, some wine and bandages, he desired -him to bathe and bind up the wounds of the old Afghan wanderer, who -was on the point of sinking, and would have done so, but for some -water which he took, dashed with brandy, despite the precepts of the -Koran. - -'You have had a narrow escape!' said Colville, looking at some of his -bruises. - -'It is perhaps useless to bind these wounds.' - -'Why?' - -'Because if a man is to die he will die.' - -'But if a man is ailing surely he may be cured?' - -'Yes,' replied the hadji, 'through the Koran.' - -'Koran again!' thought Colville. 'You mean by faith in it?' - -'Yes; by writing therefrom some holy sentences on paper, and drinking -the water wherein that paper has been washed clean.' - -'You have heard, I suppose, that the Ameer has gone over to the -Russians?' said Colville to change the subject. - -'Yes, sahib,' replied the hadji, in whose eyes a strange light now -appeared, 'but he is dying of mortal disease, and will never reach -Tashkend.' - -'Then Yakoub Khan will succeed.' - -'Yes; the man who has already aspired to sit on a _musnud_ (throne) -is little likely to content himself with a carpet, especially if -supported by the bayonets of the _Ghora logue_. By the Prophet, no!' -added the hadji, referring to what was well known--that Yakoub Khan -had conspired against his father, who, in consequence, had kept him -for years imprisoned in a dungeon without light. - -The hadji seemed a genuine Afghan, and considerably past middle-age. -He was tall, spare, and muscular, with aquiline--almost -Jewish--features; high cheek bones, and strong, black, glittering -eyes, with an intensity and keenness in their expression that -reminded Colville of those of a mountain eagle. He was fairer -complexioned than most of his people, among whom even red hair is -sometimes met with; but his face had been cleft from temple to chin -by a tulwar stroke in some past battle or brawl; and now the livid -mark of that terrible slash could be seen distinctly as altering, and -in some measure distorting, features that were naturally very regular. - -After partaking of a little food of the plainest kind, he performed -the ablutions enjoined by his faith, spread a white cloth over his -kneeling-carpet, and, turning his face in the direction of Mecca, -said his _salat al Moghreb_, or evening prayer, while Colville took -himself off to the mess-room; and when he returned the hadji was -lying on the verandah outside, fast asleep, and cosily muffled up in -his dark-coloured choga, or camel-hair cloak. - -In the morning he had left the Bala Hissar, and gone, none knew -where, save that he had been seen going towards Cabul by the way of -the Ali Musjid Pass. - -It never occurred to Leslie Colville, in performing the acts of -kindness he had done to this stranger, whether there might be peril -or evil evolved from them in the future; or whether the man was--as -he ultimately proved to be--a keen and observant spy, come to watch -and note the strength, preparations, and object of Sir Samuel -Browne's column; and, poor though the hadji looked, Colville's -servant--a more than usually sharp example of Private Thomas -Atkins--had found him in the early morning reckoning over a quantity -of gold in his wallet, and one of these which he dropped was found to -be of the last Russian mintage. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -A FIGHT WITH THE MOHMUNDS. - -Save for flying rumours cantonment life at Jellalabad had been a -little monotonous for some time past. Paper hunts had been resorted -to, and polo was played every afternoon by officers of the 10th -Hussars, riding Cabul ponies upon a piece of ground cleared for them -by their men about two miles from the city. - -Other officers exercised their skill in 'potting,' with the -breechloader, quails, and the beautiful partridge, called the 'hill -chuckore' by the Afghans, wild sheep, and antelopes, while some of -the more adventurous brought down a wolf or hyena, but as these were -chiefly to be found at a distance some personal risk was incurred, -and one might be 'potted' in turn by the 'juzail' of some hill-man -lurking unseen behind a rock or tree. - -The counterbalance to these little amusements were visitations of -wind and dust, or torrents of rain, that pattered like a storm of dry -peas on the tents of the troops who were in camp near the city, so, -when the weather had become settled, all hailed with considerable -satisfaction the advent of the expedition under General Macpherson to -look after a gathering of the Mohmunds--a tribe of about fifty -thousand souls, whose fighting men were reported as mustering for -mischief on the other side of the Cabul river, in the south-west -corner of the Jellalabad Valley, opposite to Girdi Kas, where the -stream flows away towards Chardeh. - -The staff were in their saddles betimes, and on the ground in front -of the city. - -'Good morning, gentlemen,' said old Spatterdash, as he came cantering -up on his Arab in the dark. 'What is the hour?' - -Colville adroitly caught a firefly, and placing it for a moment on -the glass of his watch, saw the time. - -'Four o'clock, colonel.' - -'We have other work this morning than pig-sticking or potting jackals -and foxes; but there is time yet for a cup of coffee dashed with -brandy--a cheroot, and then away.' - -'The bugles are sounding, and there go the trumpets of the Hussars -and Lancers blowing "boot and saddle."' - -Disdaining the use of a regulation sword, which he stigmatised as an -'army tailor's blunt knife,' Colonel Spatterdash rode with an -enormous tulwar by his side--a weapon once wielded by the great rebel -Tantia Topee--one literally for slicing, and having such an edge that -he might have shaved with it. He was in high spirits, and being -still practically under the influence of his potations overnight, was -humming the song of 'The Sepoy Grenadiers'-- - - 'The spirits of our sires, - Who gathered such renown - From clouds of battle fires, - With stern delight look down, - - 'To Delhi and to Deeg they point, - Those stars of other years; - And bid us still uphold the fame - Of _the Sepoy Grenadiers_!' - - -'I'm not likely to die from "waste of nervous tissue," as the doctors -call it, whatever the devil it may be,' he added, as he unsheathed -his tulwar, that flashed in the paling starlight; 'we'll have a burra -khana' (_i.e._, big dinner) 'when we come back, after polishing off -these Mohmund fellows.' - -'At least all who are able to partake of it.' - -'Don't be gloomy, Colville; d--n it, I never am.' - -The force for this expedition was made up of detachments from the -column; there were some of the Rifles, with some of the Ghoorkas, 1st -Sikhs, and 20th Punjaub Infantry, one hundred of the 10th Hussars -under Captain St. Quintin, and one hundred of the 11th Bengal -Lancers, in blue uniforms faced with red, under Major Princep. De -Latour's Hazara Mountain Battery came clattering up, and two Royal -Horse Artillery guns, which latter, with a small force, proceeded at -once on observation down the right bank of the Cabul river, in case -any of the Mohmunds might have taken post in that direction. - -At half-past four in the morning the whole force--not much over a -thousand men--after forming in silence and as quickly as possible, -without further sound of drum or bugle, moved off, and, with St. -Quintin's hussars in the van, crossed the river by the new bridge -erected by our Royal Engineers, and advanced into the dark country -beyond, where the only sounds heard were the wails of an occasional -jackal, replied to by those of a pack of his fourfooted brethren. - -In galloping from point to point, when the troops were forming under -arms and then in columns of march, giving the general's last orders -or directions, Colville had not much time for abstract reflection, -yet a certain idea did occur to him, and he muttered, with a glow of -the purest satisfaction, - -'If I fall to-day or any other day, thank God I have made all square -for my dear girl and her sister, too.' - -This referred to a secret visit paid by him to Lincoln's Inn 'anent' -codicils to his will the day before he left London; and now he -recalled with astonishment the time when he either disliked these -unknown cousins or forgot that they existed. - -Though Mohammed, Khan of Lalpura and chief of the Mohmunds, had made -complete submission apparently to Sir Louis Cavagnari at Dakka, in -the preceding year, it did not prevent his people from opposing us -now in arms, like many other mountain tribes. - -After the hoofs of the cavalry and wheels of the artillery had made -the planks of the trestle-bridge resound, silence again fell on the -column; and when the moon came out in its oriental splendour, amid -some weird, windy, and fast-flying clouds, there was light enough to -see the column distinctly. - -The sheeny bayonets of the infantry and the spearheads of the lancers -(denuded _pro temp._ of their fluttering banneroles) glittered -brightly, as did the sword-blades of all the officers; and our -cavalry are generally so gaily appointed that, when the 10th Hussars -went cantering to the front, the flashes of light reflected from -their accoutrements, if they added to the picturesque, also added to -the peril of the occasion, if any scouting Mohmunds were about, as -this alone would have revealed the advance of the force, which from -its sombre costume would have been, otherwise, almost invisible--but -the tropical white helmets were always prominent objects amid the -gloom. - -At this time, all our troops in Afghanistan wore Cashmere putties, or -leg-bandages, made of strips of woollen cloth, two yards and a half -long, with a tape stitched on at the end. They were worn round the -calf of the leg from the ankle to the knee, where the tape secured -them. For cavalry and infantry alike they were a useful and warm -addition to the clothing in cold weather; and there was but one -objection--the time necessary for binding them on. - -Some natives acted as guides, and in the cold moonlight the cavalry -and artillery went clattering over rough stones, and more than one of -the former fell from his horse, and of the latter off the -limber-seats, as some sudden and deceitful ditch or water channel had -to be crossed. The enemy was in front; no one knew precisely when or -where he might be fallen on, and this added to the zest and -excitement of the time and occasion. - -The orders of the cavalry were to spur on in front; to get in between -the Mohmunds and the hills, for the purpose of cutting off their -retreat; and a picturesque sight were the Hussars and Lancers, as -they dashed through the Kunar River (which joins the Cabul about five -miles from Jellalabad), in its descent from Shigar, and flashes of -light came from their glancing accoutrements as they vanished away -from the sight of the infantry in the gloom ahead, when a cloud -passed over the face of the moon. - -Next came the infantry splashing through the Kunar, which rose to the -men's waist-belts, and was broad at the point where it was crossed; -and a bath such as it gave was not a desirable beginning in a cold -morning with the work they had in hand. - -At one place the route lay over what seemed to have been an old -Mohammedan burial-ground. Coffins are not used in the East, the body -being simply rolled up in a sheet, and placed in the grave with only -a foot or two of earth spread over it. Into these receptacles the -wheels of the guns stuck fast in succession, compelling the gunners -to quit the limber-seats and drag them out, crushing and grinding the -human bones beneath, and causing an expression of much rough language -unfitted for ears polite. If the superstition of the Afghans, who -greatly venerate burial places, which they call 'Cities of the -Silent,' be true, that the ghosts of the dead sit at the head of -their own graves, invisible to mortal eyes, enjoying the odours of -the flowers planted there, the said ghosts must have been somewhat -scared by the row Her Majesty's gunners made till they got their -seven-pounders free from this succession of traps, and once more on -solid ground; and also by old Spatterdash, who was impatient to get -his Sepoys forward, and swore in English and Hindostanee. - -Though the Kunar river, which takes its rise near the great Pamir -Steppe and Bam-i-Duniah, or 'the Roof of the World,' was left in the -rear, the troops had to splash through several tributaries of it ere -they obtained higher ground, and then they began to look upon scenery -wild and mighty, rugged and uncultured, where wolves peopled the -forest, the elk and deer haunted the brook, and the crane and the -stork hovered about the watercourses, and over all, desolate and -savage, towered the mountains of Shigar, many thousands of feet in -height. - -Sometimes the route lay between groves of dark poplars, of pale green -willows, or dwarf palm, sunk amid which the tributaries of the Kunar -flowed like streaks of silver; and sometimes between vegetation -familiar to the British eye--the ash, the oak, the chestnut, and -hawthorn, though mingling with the cedar, the olive, and fig. - -Major Louis Cavaguari, a handsome dark-complexioned man, whom -Colville now saw for the first time, came riding up and joined the -staff, accompanied by a brilliantly attired and accoutred Afghan -horseman, whom he introduced as the Khan of Besoot, from whom much -useful information could be gathered, among others that a range of -hills in front was full of the enemy under a fanatic named Moollah -Khalil. - -The Ghoorkas, who were leading, were now ordered to seek cover as -soon as they had left in rear a village near these hills, while the -cavalry swung round to take these in flank or cut off the retreat of -the enemy, and with that force went Colville with a message from the -general. - -While galloping on to overtake them he could see the files who were -to skirmish dart out in extended order with unslung carbines, and -soon the cracking of exchanged shots quickened every pulse as they -were heard among the hills. - -'Push forward the mountain battery!' was now the general's order. - -It was galloped to the south side of a projecting ridge, while old -Spatterdash, with some of the Punjaub infantry, began to scale its -rocky crest. There the Mohmunds were in position, but so dingily were -they attired, or so much did the colour of their costume blend with -that of the rocks and trees, that, though not a single man of them -could as yet be separately distinguished, the existence of their -masses was known by the flashing of their arms in the sunshine, or by -the fluttering out of a red or green village banner against the -sky-line. - -While measures were thus being taken to have them on the flank and an -attack was delivered in front, De Latour got his mountain guns ready -for action, and sent a shell at a thousand yards' range whistling -through the air. Curving in its course, it fell and burst among them -high up on the ridge, scattering death and mutilation. Another and -another fell, and then, as the arms ceased to glitter, it was known -that the Mohmunds were falling back. - -Again the flashing of their weapons in the sunshine, and the jets of -white smoke from their long juzails, levelled over bank and rock, but -fired at long and almost useless distances, announced a rally or -pause in their retreat, the line of which lay along a plain that -extended away to the eastward, and onward through that space and -clouds of rising dust swept the cavalry, followed by the infantry at -the double. - -The skirmishers of Redhaven's troop having, in the ardour of pursuit, -advanced too far into a dell, became suddenly exposed to a galling -fire, which emptied more than one saddle; and Colville dashed forward -with orders for their recall. - -The trumpet sounded the 'retire,' and it was obeyed by all but one -hussar, who continued to load and fire, while the juzail balls -whistled about him, and knocked up jets of sand about his horse's -hoofs. - -'Sound again!' said Lieutenant Redhaven to the trumpeter, who sat -with the bell of the trumpet planted on his thigh. - -Again he blew, but in vain. - -'He is too far--he does not hear it--the fellow will be lost!' - -'Oh, he hears it well enough, sir,' replied the trumpeter; 'but just -now he pretends to be deaf.' - -'Deaf!--what the devil does he mean? To throw his life away?' - -'Looks like it, from what I have seen of him more than once.' - -'He is a brave but reckless fool!' exclaimed Redhaven, impetuously, -as he was now seen engaged with four Afghan horsemen, after having -slung his carbine, and drawn his sword; and by this time Colville, -full of pity and admiration, inspired also by the passing remarks of -the trumpeter, was already on the spur to succour him. - -'Allow me, sir, that officer can't go alone; besides, the poor fellow -is my own comrade,' said a hussar, who, without waiting for -Redhaven's consent, dashed the spurs into his horse, settled himself -well down on the saddle, and in less than a minute was among the -cloud of dust, where Colville and the other hussar were in close -_mĂªlĂ©e_ with the four Afghans, one of whom was the Moollah Khalil, -who was armed, not with a tulwar, but an enormous maul, furnished -with a round knob of gilt metal. - -'Allah Ackbar, Mohammed resool illa,' he was shrieking, with blazing -eyes, as he goaded his horse in the fray, and laid about him like a -madman, and by one blow brained or stunned the horse of the -skirmisher whose rashness had brought this combat about, and during -which the juzailchees had ceased firing, lest they might hit their -own leader. - -Ere the hussar could free himself from his stirrups the maul was -about to descend on his head, when a thrust from Colville's sword, -delivered under the right arm, pierced the lungs of Moollah Khalil, -who fell to rise no more, and, protecting the hussar by a great -circular sweep of his sword, Colville dragged him up by his bridle -hand, and mounted him on the Moollah's horse. His follower had now -disposed of a second Afghan just as his horse was shot under him, and -the two others, terrified by the fall of the Moollah, fled at a -gallop, on which the _juzailchees_ resumed firing, and the shot -whistled and whirred past Colville and his companions. - -'Quick--run as best you can,' said he, putting his horse to a trot, -but loth to leave the two soldiers behind. - -A wailing cry escaped one as a shot evidently struck him, and -Colville paused by checking his bridle. The man was mortally wounded -and ghastly pale, yet he walked on for some thirty paces, erect and -steadily, his eyes fixed on vacancy; then he paused, and fell dead on -his face. - -'Poor Sam Surcingle!' exclaimed the other, and at that moment -Colville also dropped from his saddle, struck by a ball in the left -ribs. - -Luckily it was a spent one, and only knocked the breath out of him; -but not a moment was to be lost, as a few of the Mohmund -_juzailchees_ were creeping back, filled with the maddest rage at the -death of their fanatic leader, who had believed his life to be -charmed. - -The hussar dragged Colville up, and almost lifted him into the -saddle, and taking the bridle applied one spur to both horses, and -brought the officer into the lines faint, worn, and with his mouth -full of blood. - -When safe out of fire Colville dismounted near a pool covered with -crimson water-lilies--the sacred lotus of Brahma--and then the hussar -whose life he had saved, and who had succoured him in return, opened -his blue patrol jacket and proceeded, after bathing his face and -giving him a draught from the pool, to examine his hurts with a -skilful hand. - -'Not a rib broken, sir, thank God' said he; 'only a contusion, and -the consequent discolouration will pass away in a few days. I -haven't forgotten my Quain and Turner.' - -'Robert Wodrow!' exclaimed Colville, recognising for the first time -the ex-medical student. - -'Yes, Captain Colville--Robert Wodrow it is,' replied the other, with -a sad smile, as he proffered his brandy-flask. - -'Thanks--I have my own,' said Colville, struggling into a sitting -position. 'Mary and Ellinor Wellwood told me of the step you had -taken--a very rash one I think it--when you failed in your studies -through the mischief wrought you by that scoundrel Sleath.' - -'So you met them?' - -'Yes--and left them well and every way, I hope, happy.' - -'It is an unexpected pleasure to see you here, sir.' - -'My poor fellow, if I can befriend you, I shall, believe me,' said -Colville, shaking Robert's hand. - -'Thank you, Captain Colville; my officers and comrades like me -already, thank God; and I am now a corporal.' - -'They are right who assert that there is nothing certain but the -unexpected,' said Colville, laughing, yet wincing the while with -pain; 'and this meeting with you has been most unexpected by me.' - -'But not by me, sir.' - -'How so?' - -'I have seen you in and about Jellalabad for days and weeks past.' - -'And why did you not speak to me?' - -'I am not now what I was--when hoping to be a graduate of the -Edinburgh University, but a poor hussar--_un simple soldat_.' - -'Simple, indeed, to throw your chances in life away thus--and even -your life too, as you so nearly did a few minutes ago.' - -'I had none left--none that I cared for,' said Robert, hoarsely. - -While this conversation was taking place, the infantry and artillery -had halted, and the brigadier, with all the cavalry, had pushed on in -pursuit of the fugitive Mohmunds as far as a place called Gurdao, in -a gorge, where the Cabul river flows out of the valley of Jellalabad. - -On an islet in the river there are the remains of an old Buddhist -monastery, surrounded by a tope of hoary trees. For here had once -been the worship of Buddha--a worship which, though now almost -banished from India, has spread over countries of an almost wider -area, and is usually ranked as the ninth avatar of Vishnu. - -Here a few of the Mohmunds made their last stand, till the best -cavalry marksmen picked them off with their carbines, and the whole -troops began a retrograde movement towards Jellalabad. - -Colville was once more in his saddle, and, by Redhaven's permission, -Robert Wodrow attended to him on the march. - -'I wish I understood the law of crises,' says the author of _Altiora -Peto_. 'I suppose it has an intimate connection with that other -mysterious problem, the law of chances ... I have always had a -theory,' he adds, 'that from time to time our lives culminate to -crises. Then the crisis bursts, and we begin again, and slowly or -rapidly, as the case may be, culminate to another crisis.' - -Well, here was a crisis and something more in connection with the law -of chances. The two men who loved the two sisters, Mary and Ellinor -Wellwood, under circumstances and with success so different, by the -birks of Invermay, were now face to face and together in that -far-away land of peril. - -After hearing Colville's little narrative of what had transpired -before he left London, Robert Wodrow looked at him for a time in -silence, and thought how different were their fates and probable -future in the world. - -Colville had hope and wealth, he (Wodrow) neither, and life seemed so -valueless; yet a couple of Afghan bullets might solve all -difficulties for both of them! - -While the artillery made a detour to avoid the pitfalls of the -Mohammedan burial-place, Wodrow was remarking to the officer by whose -side he rode, - -'It would seem, Captain Colville, that, as some writer says of the -romance of life, ours seems to be overtaking us pretty quickly.' - -'Romance, do you call it?' - -'Bitterness, in my case, would be nearer the truth. I am a broken -and ruined man,' said the other, after a pause. 'Ellinor took the -last ray of sunshine out of my life. She told me plainly that she -could not marry a poor man for the world, nor wait till he became -rich--a knowledge that only came to her after Sir Redmond Sleath -found his way to Birkwoodbrae. She was wiser, perhaps, but her -wisdom, poor girl, brought her nothing--nothing! My love was only an -ideal after all, Captain Colville; and though life does not seem to -me worth living, it must be lived--till ended--after all.' - -Colville made no reply, but proffered his cigar-case to the speaker, -who accepted a cigar with a courteous bow and blush of pleasure; the -very act was a kindly recognition that they had once been equals, and -were still friends. - -'You must quit this sort of thing, Wodrow, and go back to your -studies at Edinburgh,' said Colville; 'back to Quain and Turner, to -Balfour's Botany, Jackson's Materia Medica, and all the rest of it. -If you want money for that or anything else, consider me your banker.' - -But Robert Wodrow shook his head with an air of decision. 'Sir, I -thank you from my heart's core, but no, Captain Colville--never -again.' - -'Tuts; we'll talk about all this another time,' said Colville, -kindly, hoping to bring him to a right way of thinking and acting. - -Yet while he declined all proffers of assistance, Robert Wodrow's -mind was full of thoughts--soft, subduing, and kindly thoughts--of -his reverend father, his mother so sweet and meek, so abiding and -confiding in the will and goodness of God, and the old sequestered -manse embowered among the bonnie birks of Invermay--the manse of -Kirktoun-Mailler. - -By midnight the returned expedition marched into the lines of the -camp at Jellalabad. - -'You have acted bravely to-day, Captain Colville,' said the -brigadier, shaking his hand as the troops were dismissed to their -tents; 'and so sure as the stars look down on us you shall have your -V.C. for saving the rash hussar and killing the Moollah Khalil. I -wish you had polished off Mohammed Shah, too, while you were about -it.' - -'Who is he?' asked Colville, to whom the name seemed somehow familiar. - -'One of the sirdars of the Ameer, and a very distinguished one, now -with the Mohmunds.' - -'By Jove! that was the fellow who pretended to be a hadji, and whom I -had for a night in the Bala Hissar--in the citadel actually.' - -'A lesson for you to be more careful and less hospitable in future,' -said the brigadier, laughing. - -Colville was duly complimented in general orders, and weeks after the -latter was read and duly appreciated by one who then was--far, far -away! - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -IN THE LUGHMAN VALLEY. - -The death of the Ameer, and succession of his son, Yakoub Khan, were -now confirmed beyond all doubt at Jellalabad; but troubles and -skirmishes seemed to be on the increase, and no man's life was safe. - -In the country of the Shinwarris, a district on the Afghan frontier, -a surveying party was attacked near Maidonak, though escorted by old -Spatterdash and his Punjaub Infantry. To the natives it seemed that -knocking little pegs into the ground, sticking up little flags, and -taking the altitude of heights by a theodolite could only be the -blackest sorcery. Other instruments which were looked through in a -mysterious manner, with the notes made on paper, were all deemed -damnable charms, and indications of talismanic power, and the sirdar -named Mahmoud Shah, who was roving in that quarter, together with -Abdullah Mir, another adherent of Yakoub Khan, reminded the -people--as all Muslims believe firmly in magic--of the evil wrought -by the wicked genie Sacar, the inveterate foe of Solomon, of Eblis or -Degial, who, according to the Koran, was that enemy of the human race -who accomplished the downfall of Adam, and much more nonsense to the -same purpose; so the surveying party were furiously attacked by a -band of fanatics, armed with tulwar, dagger, and juzail, in a -solitary place near the base of the Suffaidh Koh. - -In the conflict that ensued a non-commissioned officer was killed, a -captain of the Royal Engineers wounded perilously by the blade of a -charah, a subaltern of native infantry received a ball through his -shoulder, and several Sikhs were killed; but Spatterdash laid about -him vigorously with his tulwar, split one or two heads through the -long floating loongees like pumpkins, and brought the party off; -after which General Tytler, at Maidonak and Girda, burned the two -villages, blew up seven fortified towers, and seized hostages, to be -kept in irons till a heavy fine was paid. - -In due time Colville got his V.C. for the affair with the Mohmunds, -and Robert Wodrow was recommended for promotion, and, as the coming -general war in the heart of Afghanistan was likely to make many a -vacancy, if spared, he was sure to get it. - -In consequence of the skirmish at Maidonak and threatened attacks by -the hostile tribesmen in the vicinity of Jellalabad and the Lughman -Valley, early in March an expedition was ordered into the latter -quarter, under Major-General Jenkins, and with it Colville went on -the staff. It proved a very successful movement, with many important -political consequences. - -The first news he heard of it was after a supper in old Spatterdash's -bungalow. - -'Turn in if you can, lads,' said he, when the cantonment ghurries -clanged midnight; 'and I must have a nap, too. We get under arms -before daylight to-morrow.' - -'For what?' asked Colville. - -'To fight, of course. Have you not seen the general orders?' - -'No--I was at polo all afternoon with the 10th. But to fight--where?' - -'That depends upon where we find the enemy, who are gathering as -usual for mischief; so let us have a nightcap of _brandy-pawnee_, and -then to roost.' - -Colville stretched himself in a corner of the bungalow, and was soon -in the Land of Nod. 'The soldier off duty and the sailor when his -watch is over have the faculty for getting snatches of sleep at a -moment's notice, which is denied to most other mortals, and a blessed -gift it is.' - -An hour before dawn the bugles sounded, and the troops detailed for -the expedition fell in. - -It was then known that the destination of the force was the Lughman -Valley, where the sirdar Mahmoud Shah was the active and ruling -spirit. - -Considerable annoyance and mortification were felt by Colville at the -frequently recurring mention of this personage's name, the Hadji spy -in Jellalabad whom he had succoured and protected, a circumstance for -which he had been much quizzed and 'chaffed,' for, as Lever has it, -'a little bit of fun goes a long way in the army.' - -'A fine fellow to have fostered, Colville,' said Colonel Spatterdash, -as he mounted; 'd--n him, he is worse than a Peshawur scorpion, and -we all know what it is, for size and venom.' - -While the infantry rolls were called, the companies proved, and the -battalions formed, the battery of artillery were also getting in -order; the horses were champing their bits, pawing the ground, and -laying back their ears as if impatient for the trumpet call. The -gunners stood by them--one examining the harness finally to see that -all was right, another altering his stirrup-leathers by a hole or -two, a third adjusting a comrade's accoutrements, a fourth grasping -the bow of his saddle ready to mount at the blast of the trumpet, -after which he knew his horse would no longer remain still; while the -trumpeter stood near the commanding officer, breathing into the -mouthpiece of his brass instrument, occasionally as if to keep it -ready for sounding. - -Anon the men are mounted or on the limber-seats; the trumpet rings -out, the word _march_ is given; the drivers ease the reins and close -their legs to the riding horses, throwing their whips gently over the -necks of the off-horses so as to ensure their starting together; and -it is a rule in artillery that the spurs are for the ridden horse, -the whip for the off one, and to be applied over the shoulder or -neck, but never in the rear of the pad. - -So the guns went clattering to the front, and the infantry broke into -columns of march, with a cavalry advance-guard, just as the sun began -to lighten the summit of the Suffaidh Koh and other snow-clad -mountains. - -The Lughman Valley lies north of Jellalabad, and is overlooked by the -Himalayas, though extending to the lower ridges of the Hindoo Koosh, -while Kaffiristan borders it on the east. - -Colville, of course, rode with the staff, and the ill-fated Louis -Cavagnari accompanied it. - -Many narrow valleys, with torrents traversing their boulder-strewn -beds, and sides covered with beautiful vegetation, were passed in -succession, with several villages, each marked by an enormous chunar -or Oriental plane--perhaps by two or three placed near each other for -shade, where the Moollah might bring forth his Koran, and recite it -for the information of others. - -As the troops proceeded the rocks around them seemed to grow darker -and darker, owing to the lead ore among them, while enormous boulders -of every kind of stone were strewn about far away from their original -beds out of which the torrents of ages past had torn them. - -Shaggy goats and broad-tailed doombas, or Persian sheep, were seen -grazing near the villages, where at first the people came forth -peacefully to gaze with wonder upon the Feringhees. No untoward -event occurred, till a tribesman drew near where a party of hussars -were halted, carrying a sharp axe concealed behind his back, and -evidently bent on mischief, as he was known by his white dress to be -a Ghazi, or fanatic devoted to death. - -With his weapon, he was about to aim a blow that must have proved a -deadly one on an unsuspecting corporal, when, quick as thought, -Robert Wodrow, who had his sword drawn, clove his head to the teeth. - -This was a signal for strife. Alarm fires soon began to shoot up -redly on several eminences; yells and shouts came upon the mountain -wind from armed parties mustering fast among the rocks and eyries and -ere long a sputtering fire of juzails, or native rifles, was opened -on the column, and men began to drop dead or limp about wounded. - -Out of these lofty places the tribesmen were shelled, but not without -difficulty, and ultimately driven by the rifle-fire of our -skirmishers into a narrow, rocky defile, which proved a kind of -natural cul-de-sac, out of which there was little or no exit; and -there into the wedged mass, shell after shell at a thousand yards -went smoking and whistling till it plumped and exploded among them -with terrible effect; but it was necessary to teach these treacherous -people a lesson, and a severe one it proved. - -Four days the expedition remained in the Lughman Valley, and on the -fourth, when passing on the downward route the place where the -conflict had ensued, and where rifle and shell fire had decimated the -enemy, Colville, who for a considerable time past had been somewhat -unused to strife and slaughter, looked with a kind of horror upon the -scene around him. - -Save the vultures and carrion crows no living creature had ventured -to approach the gorge where the dead, and dying yet lay--a picture of -human anguish and human passions indescribable. - -The bodies of the torn and mutilated lay thickly there, either stark -and stiff in the refuge of death, or writhing and struggling, as if -to escape the doom of those beside them. - -If this scene seemed dreadful by day, more dreadful and ghastly did -it seem to those in the rear of the column, who passed it after -nightfall, and the moon shed its cold light over the Katcha -mountains, and the rear-guard of Hussars, under Redhaven, had to pick -their way amid bodies lying half-naked, in every conceivable -position, with dark and bloody faces on the broad and ghastly grin, -distorted and battered limbs, with clenched hands and staring open -eyes; while some of the dead sat bolt upright against rocks and -boulders, with jaws dropped, and stiffened fingers grimly pointing at -vacancy. - -The next expedition towards the Lughman Valley was marked by a -terrible disaster, the story of which went through the length and -breadth of the British Isles. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -THE FANCY BALL. - -From such a scene as that in the Lughman Valley we gladly turn to one -of a very different kind. - -It was an evening of the early days of April, when the elms begin to -show their half-developed foliage, the buds of the oak are red, and -the sprays of the beech gleam like emeralds against the blue sky, and -the laburnum is clothed in green and gold, that Mary and Ellinor -Wellwood sat in a beautiful flower garden while idling over some -'crewel work,' and watching a glorious sunset as it shone on the -broad waters of the Elbe. - -We have said that for change of air and of scene Mrs. Deroubigne, who -acted to them as a second mother, had taken them with her to the -Continent, and, after wandering through France and Holland, they now -found themselves installed in a pretty villa near Altona, about two -miles from the gay, busy, and hospitable city of Hamburg, whose -merchants are so famous for the excellence of their dinners, and the -splendour of their entertainments. - -It was a lovely spring evening; the Elbe, studded with shipping under -sail or steam, was rolling in light, its blue blending into crimson; -and beyond it lay the low, green hills of Hanover, now no longer a -petty kingdom, but an integral portion of the great German empire. - -The sun was setting, and such a sunset! - -Separated from Hamburg only by a space called the Field of the Holy -Ghost, where daily the spike-helmeted Prussian troops could be seen -at drill, the wharves and warehouses of Altona join those of the -city, as they stretch along the waterside with stately rows of pale -green poplars behind them. - -Beyond the last of these, in a little wooded creek, and on the summit -of a green bank overlooking the river, stood the charming little -villa occupied temporarily by Mrs. Deroubigne, from the windows of -which the great panorama of the Hansetown was visible, with the lofty -red-brick tower of St. Michael's Kirk (a hundred feet higher than the -dome of St. Paul's at London), bathed in ruddy gold, and casting its -mighty shadow half-way to Altona; and, as the evening sky grew -redder, the spires of St. Katharine and St. Nicholai grew redder too; -and now, impressed by the beauty of the evening and of the scene, the -influence of the season and the soft purity of the ambient air, the -two girls, in the new happiness of their hearts, sang together a duet -from 'Il Flauto Magico,' of Mozart, all unaware that a young Prussian -officer--a smart uhlan, in bright green uniform--was lingering -admiringly near them. - -We need scarcely mention, though Hamburg is famous for the beauty of -its women, the officers of the garrison, the uhlans, and the -Hanoverian infantry in the Dammthor Barracks always welcomed the -appearance of the two 'charming English meeses' and their handsome -chaperone at the consul's balls, the opera, the _fĂªtes_ in the -Botanischer Garten, or when the bands played in the fashionable -Jungfernstieg (or Maiden's Walk), the beautiful tree-shaded promenade -by the side of the Alster, which is always covered with gaily-painted -pleasure-boats. - -These amusements, with fancy work, music, and novels--Tauchnitz -editions, of course--made the sweet spring days pass quickly with -Mary and Ellinor in that gay city, where, it is said, that in summer -the inhabitants appear to work all day and amuse themselves all night. - -Before their departure to the Continent, great had been the -astonishment of Lady Dunkeld and the fair Blanche Galloway when they -heard of the near relationship of Colville to the sisters, of his -engagement to Mary, and that they were to be chaperoned by Mrs. -Deroubigne till the marriage came to pass. - -'The marriage!' How Blanche elevated her eyebrows and shrugged her -shoulders. It was bitter to lose thus the future Lord Colville of -Ochiltree. - -Both those aristocratic ladies would fain have extended their -patronage and countenance to the sisters now; but, aware of their -past malevolence, Mary and Ellinor, though far from revengeful, -steadily declined all intercourse with them. Nor did Mrs. Deroubigne -attempt to control their actions or wishes in the matter. Thus a -coldness amounting almost to a 'cut' ensued between her and the -Dunkeld family. - -Leslie Colville's last letter to Mary from Jellalabad had narrated -the episode of his meeting with Robert Wodrow, and the mutual good -services they had done each other; and Mary, who had read of the -personal conflict in the war correspondent's news, felt her heart -sink within her at the contemplation of the many and incessant perils -her lover--her affianced husband--had to encounter. - -And how often did Mary recall their parting, when he had held her -face tenderly and caressingly between his hands while he gazed down -into her tear-blinded eyes, so sweetly and so passionately, posed as -they both were like the pair in 'the Huguenot' of Millais's picture; -while she looked up to him as sweetly and as passionately too. - -His departure had seemed to Mary but the beginning of the end. Yet -who could foresee amid the terrible contingencies of war and climate -what that end might be? - -Thankful she felt as each day passed, and with it a portion of the -time of separation; but who might know what that day had seen or -brought forth far, far away among the wild mountains of Afghanistan? -And so, with curious and persistent ingenuity, thoughtful and anxious -fancy often tormented her. - -Yet under different influences and happier auspices, and amid new -scenes, both sisters regained the old glow of health and beauty they -had possessed each in her own degree in former days at pleasant -Birkwoodbrae. - -Meanwhile with Ellinor, as the conviction of her own sudden -selfishness and folly grew strong in her heart, and the now odious -image of Sir Redmond Sleath faded out of it, the memory of Robert -Wodrow and of other days took their place there; but what would that -avail either of them now? - -The sisters ceased their duet suddenly, when Jack the fox-terrier, -who had been nestling against Mary's skirts, started up to greet with -many a yelp of delight the young officer who fed him so often with -biscuits and chocolate creams. - -'Pardon my interrupting a song so sweet,' said he, in good English, -'but my purpose must be my excuse,' he added, with a military salute, -for the Baron Rolandsburg--a visitor of Mrs. Deroubigne's--belonged -to the Uhlans, and, like all Prussian officers, was seldom or never -seen out of uniform, the green laced with gold of the dashing Lancers. - -He was a fair-haired and handsome man, barely thirty years of age, -and in his fifteenth year had the glory of being the first Prussian -to enter Paris, for he it was who galloped his horse amid scowling -and assembled thousands through the Arc de Triomphe after winning the -iron cross at Sedan; and now he had brought 'for Madame Deroubigne' -and her two young ladies, tickets for a most exclusive fancy ball, to -be given in the Theatre of Hamburg, which is one of the largest in -Germany; for, though there are many public ball-rooms in that -pleasure-loving city, they are never patronised by the upper classes. - -The baron had been the sisters' escort to all 'the lions' of -Hamburg--to the churches, the stately and crowded _Börse_, to -RÅ“dings Museum, the tomb of Klopstock, the great garden kept by a -Scotsman at Wandsbeck, overlooked by the house of Tycho Brahe, and -they had lingered again and again on the summit of the Stintfang, -from whence there is such an extensive view of the harbour, the Elbe, -and the opposite coast of Hanover, and his hand had often assisted -Ellinor in her sketches of the Vierlanders in their picturesque -costume and of their boats laden with glowing fruit, flowers, and -vegetables. - -Mrs. Deroubigne deemed there was no harm in all this. It amused the -girls, drew them from their own sad thoughts, and so far as she could -see the admiration and attention of the young baron were pretty -equally divided between them, or if he had a preference it was for -Mary, as it seemed ere long. - -But the tickets for the fancy ball--a ball of a kind so peculiarly -flattering to female vanity and taste in costume and so forth--seemed -to crown all his previous good offices and kindness, and they -accepted them with a genuine delight that quite flattered him. - -Bouquets (selected by those pretty Vierlander flower girls, whose -picturesque caps and embroidered bodices make them quite a feature in -Hamburg), gloves, music, even a fan or two, had come from the Baron -Rolandsburg, but always at appropriate times, with reference to a -stall at the opera or an afternoon dance. - -There was no reason why Mary should not accept such gifts; yet she -would rather that they did not come, as their acceptance seemed a -kind of treason to him who was then so far, far away. - -For some days their fancy dresses were an all engrossing source of -thought and topic with the girls and their chaperone; but, after many -changes of mind, costumes of the reign of Mary Stuart were selected -by them, Mary choosing blue, slashed and trimmed with white, as -suited to her blonde complexion, and Ellinor rose colour, trimmed and -slashed with black, as suited to her dark hair and hazel eyes, and -wonderfully handsome and piquante they looked. - -On the forenoon of the ball the baron arrived with three magnificent -bouquets and two beautiful fans for the sisters--the best that could -be obtained in the Neuer Wall. - -'How charming--how kind!' exclaimed both, blushing with pleasure. - -'For our dance to-night,' said Rolandsburg, in his most insinuating -tone, to Mary, 'how many waltzes are you to give me?' he asked, in a -lower voice. - -'How many do you want?' asked Mary, coquettishly. - -'I would like them all of course--save those I may have with Miss -Ellinor; but that is too much to expect.' - -As all this implied more than words, Mary appeared not to hear, and -addressed Mrs. Deroubigne. - -In due time they were attired, and drove through the brilliantly -lighted streets to the Stadt Theatre in the Dammthor Strasse, where -the Burgher Guard, in quaint uniforms, were under arms to receive the -burgomasters and four Syndics of the city, who wear on state -occasions high-crowned hats and black velvet cloaks, with ruffs and -swords; and there, about the entrances, were a crowd of blooming -Vierlander flower-girls, selling bouquets and button-holes, their -quaint hats or gold-embroidered caps, their bodices of crimson or -black, covered with gold-broidery, and their short blue skirts, -making each a picture. - -'I shall dance with no one else but you to-night,' said the uhlan, in -his softest tone, to Mary. - -'No one else?' said she. - -'Save your sister.' - -'Our poor uhlan is evidently playing with edged tools, Mary,' said -Mrs. Deroubigne, with a smile, while the baron was intently -pencilling on their programmes and his own. - -The stage and floored pit of the theatre, which had been converted -into one vast, brilliantly lighted and gaily decorated hall, was -filling fast with guests in every real and fanciful costume that can -be conceived, and already the great orchestra in their places were -playing a kind of overture; but their music was to be alternated by -the great brass band of the uhlans; and, though many handsome, even -rarely beautiful girls were present, Mary and Ellinor Wellwood were -remarked amid them all. - -'Schön! schön!' (beautiful, beautiful) muttered many, as they passed -to their appointed place with Mrs. Deroubigne. - -'En veritĂ©!' exclaimed a gallant little French consul; 'ces dames -sont charmantes!' - -But the ball itself has less to do with our story than what it -preluded. - -Many of the dresses were gorgeous in texture and decoration--silk, -velvet, gold and silver jewellery, and the richest lace, fairy-like -in delicacy of fashion and tint, and when the dancers in hundreds -flew round in the waltz it seemed a glimpse of the land of Elphin. - -The music was divine, and Mary felt every nerve and fibre of her -frame respond to it as she sped round with slippered feet over the -well-waxed floor on the arm of Rolandsburg, whose step and time -suited hers to perfection. - -There were beautiful Jewish matrons from the fashionable mansions on -the Alster Damm, with broods of black-eyed and equally beautiful -daughters; for the Jewish ladies of Hamburg, in style, beauty, and -delicacy of feature, excel all others of their race; but the blonde -beauties of Holstein and North Germany far exceeded them in numbers -and glow of complexion. - -Off the dancing-hall were artificial conservatories and -refreshment-rooms for ice-cream, jelly, and flirtation, where -servants were in attendance clad like Turks, with turbans and -slippers, pistols and yataghans, and where, with a sound like -file-firing, the champagne corks flew up to the gilded ceilings. - -Amid the dazzling scene, as Mary paused in a waltz, panting, -palpitating, and blushing to see her own reflection in a mirror, as -she almost clung to the arm of the baron in his green uhlan uniform, -and found herself the object of so much attention and admiration, her -mind reverted with a kind of dull and painful wonder to the past days -of their obscure abode in frowsy Paddington; to her struggles for -employment, and her lonely wanderings in unfamiliar streets, where -often her beauty subjected her to such observation and insolent -annoyance that often she longed to be old and ugly; and when her -chief hope had been to fill the place of governess to some one's -children--well-bred or ill-bred, yet not without a faint vision of -future good fortune, position, and admiration--perhaps even riches; -she was too young to be without such fancies and hopes. - -Ellinor thought she would never forget the splendours and enjoyments -of the fancy dress ball; in all its features and details it was so -new to her, and from a subsequent event she was fated to remember it -long. - -The baron, always attentive and full of _empressement_, was enchanted -to be the privileged cavalier to two such English belles. - -Mary, in her piquant Mary Stuart cap, with a little ruff round her -delicate neck, her sleeves puffed and slashed, her peaked bodice, all -blue satin, with seed pearls, quite dazzled him, and matured the -passion for her that was growing in his heart; and at last, in the -intervals of the dances, though he yielded her with undisguised -reluctance to other uhlans, dragoons, and gunners, who crowded about -her, programme in hand, he ventured to speak on the subject--not to -her, but to Mrs. Deroubigne, and thus spared her some pain and -confusion. - -'Madame,' said he, while conducting her to a refreshment-room, 'you -evidently love these two young ladies as if they were your own -daughters!' - -'I do indeed--and they might have been,' was the somewhat enigmatical -reply of Mrs. Deroubigne, with one of her bright sweet smiles. - -'Ah! who would not love them, the blue-eyed one especially.' - -'Mary?' - -'Yes, madame. I thought generally that love only existed in plays -and novels.' - -'And when were you undeceived?' - -'When first I knew _her_.' - -'Baron, you must dismiss such thoughts,' said Mrs. Deroubigne, with -some dismay. - -'Why, madame?' he asked, smiling. - -'The young lady is engaged.' - -'Engaged--is that betrothed?' - -'Yes.' - -His countenance changed instantly. - -'To an officer--a dear friend of mine--now in Afghanistan.' - -'In Afghanistan!' he repeated, angrily; 'a _fiancĂ©_ there is next to -no _fiancĂ©_ at all, for a bullet may--nay,' said he, pausing, 'this -thought is ungenerous of me, and I would not like another to think -thus of Rolandsburg. Gott in Himmel, how unlucky I am!' - -'I am so sorry to hear all this.' - -'So am I--so am I,' exclaimed the baron, pulling his long fair -moustaches, for a betrothal in Germany gives a young girl a kind of -wife-like sanctity among the homely and domestic Teutonic people; and -Mrs. Deroubigne, who dearly loved the romantic, felt for him; the -young man's hopes had been cruelly crushed at the very moment when he -thought them brightest. - -'One cannot have everything they want--it is not given to anyone on -earth to be perfectly happy, I suppose,' said he, with a sigh, and -there was a sadness, with a ring of sincerity, in his voice that -certainly touched Mrs. Deroubigne. - -'Have you spoken of love to her?' whispered she, behind her fan; 'but -I hope not!' - -'No--I have never spoken--but she must have inferred what I felt,' -replied the baron, who, like most German officers, spoke English well. - -'Inferred it--I scarcely think so, with her mind so occupied with the -thoughts of another.' - -'But, any way, I think it does a girl good to know that a man loves -her; and then, if the proverb be true about one love begetting -another, she may incline her heart to him.' - -'Not in this instance, baron.' - -For Rolandsburg now the charm of the ball was over; the music sounded -faint, the lights seemed dim, and he was glad when the great -festivity ended, and he, after escorting the ladies to their -carriage, took his way slowly through the streets to his barracks -near the Dammthor Wall. - -For his disappointment--and it was a sudden and sore one--he had no -one but himself to blame, he felt, as Mary Wellwood had never given -him the least encouragement to fling his heart away as he had done. - -And now for the sequel to the night's adventures. - -Talking gaily, as girls will talk after a ball, criticising costumes -and partners, and comparing notes, Mary, Ellinor, and Mrs. Deroubigne -reached home when day was beginning to dawn, and the blue waters of -the Elbe were beginning to brighten. Ellinor, teasing and quizzing -Mary about the baron, had been singing to her-- - - 'Ilka lassie has her laddie, - But ne'er a one have I;' - -and Mary, in hot haste, anxious to see the very latest news, threw -open a London paper which had come over night, but, as she eagerly -scanned it, a cry of dismay escaped her as she read a brief telegram: - - -'_Terrible disaster to the 10th Hussars.--A whole squadron drowned in -the Cabul River, and two officers, when attempting to save the life -of Corporal Wodrow._' - - -The hearts of the sisters stood still as they read and re-read this -startling notice. - -The attempt to save Robert Wodrow had evidently been a failure--so he -was gone! - -Who had made the attempt and perished with him? Mary's agitated mind -at once suggested Colville. Both girls felt completely stunned. - -The returning and growing love--a love blended with great pity--that -had been developing itself in Ellinor's heart for poor Robert Wodrow -was now absorbed and swallowed up in a gush of bitterness and intense -remorse at being the cause of his sorrowful and untimely fate. - -How true it is that 'suffering is our most faithful friend; it is -always returning. Often has it changed its dress, and even its face; -but we can easily recognise it by its cordial and intimate embrace.' - - -And how was it, then, at the old ivy-clad manse of Kirktown-Mailler, -where the same terrible telegram had gone like the dart of death? - -There the blinds were drawn down, as if the hussar who had found his -grave in the Cabul River was lying dead in the bed he had slept on in -boyhood and manhood, and across which his mother now lay stretched in -hopeless grief. - -And a sad-eyed and sympathetic congregation watched the venerable -minister when, with bent eyes, and slow, unsteady steps, he entered -his pulpit next Sunday. - -All knew the dire calamity that had befallen him, and one and all -their kindly Scottish hearts bled for him, when his voice failed, his -sermon escaped him, and stretching out his trembling hands on the -pulpit cushion, he bent down his handsome old head upon them--a head -now white as the thistledown--and begged his people to excuse him, -'as all night long he had been in the Valley of the Shadow of Death!' - -Then his elders led him into the vestry, and those who saw him -descending the stair of that pulpit, wherein he had ministered unto -them faithfully for more than thirty years, never forgot the painful -episode. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -THE 10TH HUSSARS. - -And now to detail how the catastrophe referred to came about. - -The evening of Monday, the 31st of March, saw Leslie Colville in his -saddle, and busy conveying orders in the camp and cantonments of -Jellalabad, where drum and bugle gave the notes of preparation for -the field. - -This was between five and six o'clock, when two columns were suddenly -ordered out for another expedition towards the Lughman Valley. - -One, to be led by Brigadier Gough, was to consist of seven hundred -men furnished by the 17th and 27th regiments, three hundred native -infantry, four Royal Horse Artillery guns under Major Stewart, and -two squadrons of the dashing Guide Cavalry. - -This column, according to the orders repeated by Colville, was to -march out at one o'clock next morning. - -'In what direction?' asked old Spatterdash and others. - -'I know not,' replied Colville; 'but Lughman, I suppose, is the -object in view with it, as well as the other column, under Brigadier -Macpherson.' - -The command of the latter consisted of three hundred Rifles, six -hundred Ghoorkas and Punjaubees, with a mountain battery under -Lieutenant E. J. de Lautour, of the Royal Artillery, who had served -in the expedition of 1863 against the tribes on the North-West -Frontier, some sappers, and a squadron each from the 10th Hussars and -11th Bengal Lancers, who, like the former corps, wear blue uniforms -faced with red and laced with gold. - -The latter column was to be in readiness to march at nine that -evening, with four days' provisions in the haversacks. - -The moon, in a sky flecked with clouds, was gleaming brightly on the -Balla Hissar, the domes and walls of Jellalabad, though it was little -more than a quarter old, as Macpherson's column got under arms; and -the rolls were called, the ammunition served out, the inspection of -saddlery and accoutrements was proceeded with. - -Our soldiers always muster merrily for work such as they had in hand -that night; and, before they were called to attention. Redhaven had -on more than one occasion to speak almost sharply to Robert Wodrow, -who was--for him, at least--unusually noisy and jubilant. - -'Eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we die!' he heard him say. - -'Can't make that countryman of yours out, Colville,' said the -hussar-officer, as he scraped a vesta and lit a cigar. 'He is -usually the most silent and taciturn fellow in the troop, and -to-night he makes as much noise as all the Ghoorkas put together.' - -'And that puzzles you?' - -'Yes; he looks like a man with a past.' - -'He has indeed a past history, poor fellow, a sorrowful and not a -happy one.' - -'Every broken-down fellow takes to the cavalry now,' grumbled -Redhaven; 'but I was certain he has some secret by the expression of -his eyes, and the inflections of his modulated voice at times.' - -'Poor fellow!' said Colville again. - -He knew, what Redhaven did not, that Robert Wodrow was often a prey -to sad and bitter thoughts; that in the dreams of the night and of -the day when asleep in the wet-flapping tent or the comfortless -bivouac--when on solitary vidette duty, under the blazing Afghan sun, -he saw oftener before him--not the fair face of her for whom he had -sacrificed everything, and whom, he doubted not, would soon become -the bride of another--but the face of his loving mother--a kind and -happy old face--that ever beamed with love for him; and opposite her -fancy saw his silver-haired old father, reading some good or musty -volume--Wodrow's _Analecta Scotica_ perhaps; and often from such -visions of home he was roused by the trumpet blowing 'boot and -saddle,' or the yell of an Afghan scout armed with _juzail_ and -_charah_. - -As a Scotsman, Colville was superstitious enough to regret that at -such a time the young fellow should show such exuberance of spirits -as the foreboding of evil, and was in the act of urging his horse -forward to accost him kindly, when the brigadier came on the ground, -the component parts of the column were called to 'attention,' and in -a few minutes after, the whole force was on the march, and, with the -glittering of sword and bayonet blades, section after section quickly -disappeared from the eyes of those who watched them in the cold -wintry moonshine that had turned to diamonds the thick hoarfrost on -every wall and tree; and the march began which was to prove the last -to many in this life. - -'The line of ground between Jellalabad and Cabul, so far as it is -connected with India,' says a writer, 'is a line of tragedy and -misfortune. That line of tragedy and misfortune may now be extended -a couple of miles further to the east, for that will give very nearly -the point where forty-six lives were on that Monday evening suddenly -swept out of existence.' - -The troops moved westward, the cavalry leading. The squadron of the -10th Hussars was under Captain D'Esterre Spottiswoode, that of the -Bengal Lancers was under its own captain, and Major E. A. Wood of the -first-named corps commanded the whole. - -Guided by an Afghan mountaineer who had offered his services, and to -whom Colville paid a high bribe therefor, the orders of the officers -were to cross the Cabul river at a point where most unluckily a -temporary bridge had shortly before been removed. On achieving that, -they were to move up the left bank of the stream, to march through -Besoot and Darunta, and enter the Lughman Valley, to which the -infantry were moving by the Jellalabad side of the Cabul. - -The guide, who was mounted on a powerful and wiry yaboo, or Cabul -pony, was a singularly taciturn fellow, and Colville remarked a -circumstance which soon became a painful memory, that by twisting the -end of his loonghee, or head-dress, across the lower part of his face -he effectually concealed his features, permitting little more than -his keen, black, and glittering eyes to be seen, reminding him of the -muffled men he had read of in old Scottish Border forays. - -Macpherson's column had not been long gone when the troops at the -camp of Jellalabad were roused and alarmed by numbers of cavalry -horses, all riderless, galloping wildly among the tents, with their -bridles trailing, and their saddles, valises, and trappings soaked in -water. - -'What has happened--what can have happened?' were the questions asked -on every side. - -No one could anticipate the catastrophe that had really occurred, as -at that season the bed of the Cabul is not always full; but when the -sun melts the accumulated snow in the Katcha range and other -mountains it is not so. The water then rolls through many channels, -and it was in anticipation of this that the wooden bridge had been -removed to a point further up. - -Where our cavalry were to cross at the Fort of Isaac, the stream now -formed two branches; the first was thirty feet broad, with an average -of only thirty inches of water, and the crossing was to be made under -the light of a dim and fitful moon, at a point where an irrigation -channel diverged at right angles from the stream. Beyond that point -stood a kind of sandy islet covered with great boulders, and again -beyond it lay a hundred and fifty feet of water; but as the line of -this fatal ford was _not straight_, three hundred and fifty feet of -water had to be traversed upon it, as the ford formed at one point an -acute angle. - -Led by the local guides, the squadron of Bengal Lancers crossed in -safety, wheeling at the given point on the acute angle. - -The mules of the squadron followed next, our hussars, now riding at -ease, waiting till their turn came to cross; and to amuse the rest, -one of them, the identical Toby Chace, who was one of Robert Wodrow's -earliest comrades, and well known as a reckless fellow, began to sing -a soldier's ditty, part of which ran thus: - - 'There's Bill Muggins left our village, - Just as sound a man as I; - Now he goes about on crutches, - With a single arm and eye. - - 'To be sure he's got a medal - And some twenty pounds a year - For his health, and strength, and service, - Government can't call that dear; - Not to reckon one leg shattered, - Two ribs broken, one eye lost; - 'Fore I went in such a venture, - I should stop and count the cost. - - 'Lots o' glory, lots o' gammon----' - - -'Silence there--in front!' cried the commanding officer, and -Colville, who had some undefinable suspicion of the hussar guide, -placed himself near that personage, with his revolver case loose and -at hand. - -'Do not lose the direction, men,' cried an officer, 'but keep well up -against the stream,' he added, knowing that when crossing thus there -is always a tendency to edge lower down with the current. - -The leading sections began to enter the stream, the rippling eddies -of which went past them, tipped with silver by the pale moonlight; -the rest followed closely, the guide directing, and erelong Colville -and others found the water rising to their feet, then it rose as high -as their knees, and was beginning to get higher, while the pony of -the guide had quitted the angled line of the ford, and was swimming -away to another point. - -'Treachery,' thought Colville; at that moment the _loonghee_ fell -from the face of the guide, and he recognised Mahmoud Shah, the -sirdir with the slashed cheek--Mahmoud, the hadji, whom he had saved -from the Wahabees! - -'This is getting awkward!' exclaimed Redhaven, 'there must be some -mistake.' - -'We are betrayed!' cried Colville. - -He put his hand to his pistol-case, but too late, for now his horse -rolled over, and with an exulting shriek in English of 'Pigs! dogs! -Kaffirs!--drown and be damned! Eblis and hell await you! In vain -will ye seek the Lord of the Daybreak!' cried the treacherous guide; -then he reached the Jellalabad side in safety and vanished--pony and -all. - -All was confusion, consternation, and death now, for the water, -flowing at the rate of nine miles an hour, had risen to the saddle -bows and holsters of the Hussars, whose spirited horses, finding -their footing gone, ignored the use of spur and bridle. - -The line of the ford was lost now; the current pouring over it soon -forced the horses downward into deeper water, sweeping the squadron -away towards the swifter rapids, and in a mass of confusion our -gallant Hussars, with their terrified horses, were struggling -desperately and madly for existence, under the dim moonlight and amid -the fiercely rushing waters, while the bewildered Bengal Lancers -could only sit in their saddles and look helplessly on. - -An officer whose horse had kicked Robert Wodrow, rendering him nearly -insensible, failed to escape, and both were swept away, so, -natheless, his reckless quotation from St. Luke's Gospel, there was -to be no 'to-morrow' for the latter. - -Captain D'Esterre Spottiswoode--afterwards colonel--was mounted on a -very splendid and powerful horse, which was able to swim well, and -bore him to the other bank in safety, but not to the end of the ford. - -In dangerous quicksands it sank twice to its girth, on the last -occasion falling on its rider, whose head was thrust so far below -water that he was nearly drowned ere he scrambled breathlessly to dry -land. - -Colville, who had been riding with the captain and three subalterns -at the head of the troop, which mustered seventy-six sabres, felt his -horse become restive when the water flowed over his holsters; the -animal kicked and plunged till at last he was thrown off its back, -and found himself floundering in deep water. Being a good swimmer he -thought to get rid of his sword and belt, but failed, as he sank each -time in making the attempt, and each time he came to the surface with -an invocation to heaven on his lips. - -The men in the squadron were all in heavy marching order, fully -accoutred and supplied with ammunition--circumstances sufficient to -drag down a good swimmer even in smooth water. Nearly all were -thrown by their terrified horses, which, as they rolled over and -over, lashed out with their hoofs, maiming and stunning many of our -poor fellows as they were swept into the dark rushing current of the -rapids, and where these ceased lay a little pool of deep water, and -there it was that all who had strength left to struggle succeeded in -reaching the land, but many failed, alas! - -As Colville was swept downward, while in the desperate agonies of -seeking to save his own life, he could take in the terrible details -of the tragedy, and saw how the river was crowded with men, horses, -and white helmets rolling past; how heads, hands, and spurred heels -rose momentarily and vanished to rise again, and then sink for ever -beneath the cruel and greedy current. - -Amid all this scene of death and horror, there came not one cry from -our perishing hussars; each battled with the waters of the hostile -river as they would have battled with the Afghans. - -Colville struck out to reach the bank, after he sank a third time; -but, encumbered by his heavy boots and putties (or leg bandages), his -sword, revolver, and ammunition, he was unable to keep himself -afloat, and the agony of a helpless death was in his heart! - -He knew that at the time all this was happening Mary Wellwood would -probably be sleeping, sweetly and peacefully, on her pillow; and even -in that moment of supreme anguish and terror, he wished that if death -came, his soul might flash home to her in a dream--a farewell dream! - -He felt himself sinking at last, as he had only been getting -occasional breaths of air; the last of his strength seemed going, and -all hope with it, when suddenly his feet touched the bottom, and a -prayer rose to his lips. - -Rousing himself for a final effort, he pushed forward, and hope began -again to dawn on him as he found the water getting shallower; but he -was too weak to reach the river's bank, and, grasping some wild -jasmine trailers that grew between two boulders, he propped himself -up to rest and breathe. - -At this point, seeing neither man nor horse near him, he thought that -all must have perished--perished through the diabolical hatred and -treachery of Mahmoud Shah! - -Suddenly he heard a voice cry out, - -'Is this you, Captain Colville?' - -The questioner, whose grammar was not very choice, proved to be the -hussar Toby Chace, who was sitting bareheaded, dripping, and -disconsolate on the river bank. - -Colville was almost voiceless, so Toby waded in, and assisted him to -dry land, where he could scarcely stand from exhaustion, but was able -ultimately, with the assistance of Chace, to reach the camp, where he -found that his horse had arrived before him. - -All the troop horses were heard to snort wildly as the current swept -them away, and, being overweighted by their saddles, the slung -carbines, and other trappings, they beat the air with their hoofs as -they rolled about; but only twelve were drowned. - -When the roll was called, forty-six hussars, who would never hear it -again, were missing, with Lieutenant Harford and another officer. -Many of their bodies, when found, showed broken limbs, the result of -kicks from iron-shod hoofs, and many of them had their hands raised -to their heads, either for protection or through pain from blows, and -in that position they had stiffened in death. - -One poor fellow was swept a long way down the Cabul river, but -clambered into a native boat, where he was found next day, dead from -exhaustion and cold. - -'An awful calamity! A devil of a business!' - -'How did it happen? Whose fault was it?' - -Such were a few of the exclamations heard on every hand in camp, from -whence, on the first arrival of the riderless horses, soldiers had -rushed to the river side with lanterns and ropes, and staff-surgeons -with restoratives. - -Ten rupees reward was offered for every body recovered from that -fatal river, and some were buried severally near the places where -they were found. Colville made many inquiries about that of Robert -Wodrow, as the one in whom he was personally most interested, but no -trace of him could be discovered. - -In one eddy of the river nineteen of our gallant hussars were found -huddled together in one ghastly heap. - -These and the bodies of others were all buried in one vast grave at -the western end of the camp; and those who saw that solemn -scene--that grim row of bodies, each rolled in a blanket, and lying -side by side in close ranks, shoulder to shoulder--never forgot it. - -Neither did they forget the funeral service of the following evening, -when the body of Lieutenant Francis H. Harford and that of a private -of the Leicestershire Regiment, who had been mortally wounded in -action, were interred about dusk. - -Solemn and strikingly impressive was the episode. - -The red Afghan sun had set amid dim and sombre clouds beyond the -snow-clad summits of the Ramkoond Mountains, but some ruddy light yet -lingered on the awful peaks of the Suffaidh Koh. There had been rain -and thunder all afternoon, and the clouds were gathered in sombre -masses that were edged by the radiance of the now nearly full moon. - -Athwart the clouds ever and anon shot gleams of ghastly lightning, -producing strange and sudden effects of light and shade, adding to -the weird effect of the funeral cortĂ©ge--the coffins on -gun-carriages, draped with the Union Jack, followed by officers and -other mourners in long, spectral-like cloaks, preceded by the -dark-clad band of the Rifle Brigade playing a low and wailing -dirge-like piece of music. - -So ended the tragedy of the 10th Hussars. - -In the meantime, in perfect ignorance of that event, our troops under -Macpherson and Gough had proceeded to the scene of their services -elsewhere, to fight the Khugianis and win the battle of Futteabad, -which, as Leslie Colville was not present, lies somewhat apart from -our story. - -After the defeat of the Khugianis and the subsequent dispersal of the -Afreedis, the summer of the year was drawing on, and as Yakoub Khan -showed a disposition to come to terms with Great Britain, and the -hostilities seemed to be drawing to a close, Leslie Colville began -fondly to hope that he might with honour resign his appointment for -'special service,' and return home after the treaty of peace was -signed. - -The negotiations for the latter were placed in the hands of Major -Louis Cavagnari, and, after some hesitation on the part of the new -Ameer, it was eventually signed in the British camp at -Gundamack--that place of ill-omen, where the Red Hill of _Lal Teebah_ -marks the spot on which the last men of Elphinston's army perished -under Afghan steel in the year 1842. - -Its chief objects were to place the foreign affairs of Afghanistan -under British control, and to guarantee that country against Russian -aggression by the aid of our money, arms, and troops, to provide for -the maintenance of a British Embassy in the dominions of the Ameer, -and other details. - -Thus the war came to an end--as Mary Wellwood, with many more at -home, read with joy, and our troops in the valley of Jellalabad were -withdrawn within the new frontier, lest the prolonged presence of -foreigners might inflame the ready susceptibilities of the fiery -Afghans, and render them less amenable to the influence of Ayoub Khan. - -For some reasons the latter was suffered to depart from Gundamack to -Cabul alone, and the despatch thither of a British resident was -deferred for a time. When the time came, Leslie Colville--afterwards -to his own great regret--instead of resigning and returning home, -suffered himself to be named in general orders as one of the staff to -accompany the new Resident--Major, then Sir Louis Cavagnari--on that -perilous and, as it proved, most fatal and calamitous mission, and -when Mary heard of it she sighed bitterly with apprehension, she knew -not of what. - -'He should not have allowed himself to be thus prevailed upon--surely -he has done enough for honour, by winning his Victoria Cross!' -exclaimed Mrs. Deroubigne, with surprise, and poor Mary quite agreed -with her; but Colville was under certain military influences which -they could not quite understand. - -Thus he wrote to Mary, stating that, when once the Embassy was fairly -established, he would lose no time in returning home. - -'Does he not know how I am yearning for him,' thought the girl in her -heart. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -LOST. - -Damped and disconcerted by the sudden hopelessness of his regard for -Mary Wellwood on learning that she was betrothed to another, the -young baron--after leaving cards subsequent to the night of the -ball--did not visit the villa so frequently as had been his wont; but -the society there was so pleasant and attractive, that he began to -drop in during the afternoons and evenings for a little music and -singing, in both of which, like most foreigners, he could bear his -part very well. - -That Ellinor had undergone some grief--he knew not precisely what it -was--he was perfectly aware, but her story was not one on which Mrs. -Deroubigne cared to enlighten him fully. He could also see that she -wore black or sombre dresses, with suites of jet ornaments, for -Ellinor felt that to do so was at least all that she might indulge -in, as a proper tribute to the memory of one who had loved her well. - -The sisters were to have been photographed in their sixteenth century -ball costumes for the delectation of Colville; but this frivolity -they abandoned after hearing of Robert Wodrow's catastrophe. - -Ellinor often recalled the night of that brilliant festivity, when -she had waltzed and promenaded to and fro as one in a dream of -delight, and spoke in a hushed tone as if she feared to waken from it -to a real and commonplace life, for never before had she been in so -gay and glittering a paradise; but now that was all over--gone like a -dissolving view, and she could but think of the poor heart that had -loved her so well and so fondly now lying cold and stiff in the -waters of the Cabul river. - -Mrs. Deroubigne knew of Robert Wodrow only by name. Thus her natural -equanimity on the subject of his fate, combined with her social -qualities and equally natural brightness, helped much to calm, even -to soothe, the equally natural grief, and also perhaps the remorse of -Ellinor, who, of course, became in time composed and consoled over -the inevitable, though she was still too terrified or too much pained -to write to his parents--a task which she relegated to Mary. - -And in her quiet and subdued grief, most generous, unvaryingly kind -and sympathetic was young Rolandsburg, though he knew not quite the -cause from which it sprang; and charmed by her sadness, softness, and -beauty, finding that the elder sister was lost to him, it seemed to -Mrs. Deroubigne that he was already turning his attention to the -younger. - -Ellinor had--as she said to Mary--wept her eyes out for poor Bob -Wodrow; and thus, after a time, the elasticity of her volatile nature -began to reassert itself, to the delight of the baron. - -Nature, we are told, abhors a vacuum; so did the heart of the -handsome young Uhlan; hence he adopted a new _rĂ´le_ in his bearing to -Ellinor, all the more easily and all the more readily that he had not -committed himself with Mary. - -Blooming as the German girls are, Ellinor's softer beauty was a new -experience to him; she was like a tea-rose, a sea-shell, a -wonderfully delicate and tinted bit of feminine nature, and as -before, he first made Mrs. Deroubigne his confidant. - -'Ah, madame!' said he, clasping his hands melodramatically, while -drooping his head on one side till it nearly touched his gilt -shoulderstrap, 'I suppose she could not understand anyone dying of -love--of love of her?' - -'I think not,' replied Mrs. Deroubigne, laughing excessively at this -leading remark when remembering that he had been in the mood of -'dying for love' of Mary but some weeks before. - -Yet he was a pleasant, handsome fellow, with so much _bonhommie_ -about him that it was impossible not to be pleased with him, all the -more that the iron cross on his breast showed that he had comported -himself gallantly in the field. - -'The Fraulein Ellinor is very cold and very calm,' said he; 'she can -take a man's heart--take all his love and give him none in return.' - -'It is not so,' replied Mrs. Deroubigne. - -'How, madame, then?' - -'You do not know her story; but why should I recur to it?' - -'Her story--she has had, then, an _affaire du coeur_?' - -'One at least, certainly,' said Mrs. Deroubigne, laughing again at -the baron's expression of face and tone of pique. - -'Der Teufel! One at least? How sad it is to think of a young lady -having a story! And this--or these--render her indifferent to me?' - -'Perhaps,' replied Mrs. Deroubigne, who, much as she liked the young -Prussian, did not wish to flatter his hopes, but he was not the less -resolved to put the matter to the issue. - -Calling one afternoon when Mrs. Deroubigne and Mary had driven into -Hamburg, he intercepted Ellinor in the garden, with her little -camp-stool, easel, and colour-box, about to go forth and sketch; and -though he had but a few minutes to spare, as his horse was at the -gate to take him back to barracks, he resolved to utilise them. - -Shaded from the declining sun by a broad garden-hat, he thought -Ellinor's face never looked so charming before. Her eyes were -peculiarly her greatest beauty; they were of the clearest and most -luminous hazel--not very dark, and sweetly trustful and -straightforward in expression; but they drooped now and sought the -flower-beds, for something she read in those of young Rolandsburg -told her what was coming. - -In the physical nature of some people who love keenly there is a -mysterious sympathy that draws them together, and the baron, thinking -that she was inspired by that now, put out his hand to touch hers, -but she withdrew it. - -This was not encouraging, but he drew nearer her half-averted ear, -and whispered bluntly enough, but tremulously, nevertheless, - -'This is a great joy finding you alone--alone, that I may tell you -what I have been longing--dying to tell you for weeks past--that I -love you, Ellinor, and you only!' - -In his foreign accent and half-broken English, the avowal sounded -very pretty and simple, but did not touch Ellinor much, though she -trembled and grew pale, for no woman can have such things said to her -and remain quite unmoved. - -'Love _me_--how strange!' said she, scarcely knowing what to say. - -'To you it may seem so,' he continued, slowly and earnestly; 'for I -know or suspect that you cherish some dead--some mysterious memory, -and that you cannot or may not care for me as I wish you to do; but -that does not prevent me from loving you, and you may never -understand, even dimly, how much I do love you, and I can keep this -secret untold no longer.' - -'I respect you much, baron,' replied Ellinor, for his declaration was -more formal than impetuous; 'but mere talking to me will not make me -love you in return. I feel quite confused--most unhappy to hear all -this; and we shall have to go away from Altona.' - -'Go from Altona?' - -'Yes.' - -'I only tell you because I can not control--can not help myself,' -said he, humbly and sadly, and not without an emotion of pique at the -ill-luck of his second venture. - -'I thank you, baron, but it cannot be,' said Ellinor, shaking her -pretty head decidedly. - -'You cannot--love me.' - -'No--not as you wish.' - -'Well,' said he, after a pause, during which he had been eyeing her -downcast face with an expression of disappointment and chagrin, 'be -it so; but I trust you will pardon any unpleasantness my perhaps -abrupt avowal has occasioned you; and I also trust that in the future -you will always view me as your friend--as one who will ever be ready -and eager to hold out the hand of a brother to you, Miss Ellinor. -Even with that conviction I shall be happy,' he added, with a voice -that certainly broke a little with emotion. - -She now gave her hand frankly, and he pressed it kindly, and then, -proceeding to fill with tobacco his consolatory meerschaum pipe (that -dangled at his button-hole) prior to riding back to the Dammthor -Wall, he said, with a sigh, - -'Ach--I will get over this, no doubt!' - -'As you must have got over others, no doubt,' said Ellinor, laughing -now, but piqued by his philosophy, and to see that he could so calmly -canvass the prospect of ceasing to care for her already. But what -does it matter? Robert Wodrow had loved her as no man had ever loved -her, and what had been _his_ reward? - -'Now leave me, please, baron,' she said, a little bluntly; 'the tide -is far out, and I wish to sketch the creek and villa from yonder bank -of dry sand ere the sun sets.' - -'I must go--for parade awaits me; but must I recur to this dear -subject no more?' - -'Yes--no more,' said Ellinor, with decision, yet with a smile -nevertheless. - -The baron felt that all was over when he saw that smile; indeed, when -with Ellinor, he always felt that he was in the presence of some -feeling deeper than he could fathom; and, bowing low, he turned sadly -away. Then in a few minutes the clatter of his horse's hoofs was -heard as he cantered off towards the Millernthor, and so ended -another little romance in Ellinor's life--at least, she thought so. -And the baron knew that now never again could they enjoy each other's -society as they had done so innocently till that afternoon. - -Proceeding over the firm dry sand left by the far retreating tide, -she selected a point upon a rough pebble-covered knoll, a quarter of -a mile from the little wooded creek, set her sketching-block upon her -tiny easel, and, seating herself upon a little camp-stool, proceeded, -with her back to the setting sun, to outline the creek, with the -trees, the garden, and sandy beach in foreground, and the villa in -the middle distance. - -She was very full of her work, to have it as a souvenir of Altona, -but it proceeded very, very slowly; she was too full of the late -episode to do much with her pencil--much successfully at least, and -paused ever and anon to sink into deep thought over the past, the -present, and the future. - - -When Mary and Mrs. Deroubigne returned home to a late dinner, Ellinor -was not to be seen, she was not in the villa, and she was not in the -garden, nor in the adjacent shrubberies, so the house-bell was rung -for her in vain; and to Mrs. Deroubigne, Ellinor, always dreamy, -delicate, and in temperament excitable, had been somewhat of a -responsibility, more than her sister Mary. - -Dinner was served up, but remained on the table untasted, while -search after search was made without avail, and sunset was at hand. - -She had last been seen in the garden, with Baron Rolandsburg, with -her drawing materials and apparatus, going forth to sketch. - -With the baron! - -'Could she have eloped with him?' thought Mary, while her heart -sank--recalling Ellinor's former folly--the folly she had been on the -brink of committing with Sir Redmond Sleath. - -Oh, that was very unlikely! Ellinor was a changed girl, and less -confiding, and the young baron was too confident in himself, his -position, wealth, and resources to love mystery or mischief when -neither were needed. - -A presentiment of evil--an emotion that she could not have -explained--came over Mary's mind. Vainly she sought to settle her -thoughts to some fixity of purpose. A vague terror seized her, and -she could scarcely even think. - -She remembered when Ellinor was ill how the tolling of the Passing -Bell in the adjacent church appalled her with the dread that she was -about to lose her--her only relation in the world; and had she lost -her now? - -'Was she going far to sketch?' Mrs. Deroubigne suddenly inquired of -her now scared domestics. - -'No, madame! Only to the sands beside the river, when the tide was -out.' - -'The tide!' exclaimed Mrs. Deroubigne; and, accompanied by Mary, she -rushed to the foot of the garden, to find the creek full and the Elbe -at flood tide and more. - -'My God--oh, what can have happened?' exclaimed Mrs. Deroubigne, who -was aware of a periodical event of which Mary knew nothing. - -It was this. When the wind is from the west, and especially if -violent, the waters of the Elbe become swollen to such a degree that -the canals of Hamburg overflow their banks, the cellars, magazines -and all channels, become gorged and inundated--that, in fact, the -tide suddenly rises, sometimes to the height of twenty feet, with a -rapidity that is alike dangerous and terrible. So the gorged tide, -swollen by the incoming waves of the German Sea, was rolling inshore -now, and Ellinor had been on the sands--the temporary dry sands, to -sketch! - -A wild waste of water was rolling and boiling there now, and where -was she? - -'Ellinor--oh, Ellinor!' cried Mary, again and again, in a voice of -agony; but, save the sough of the waves, there was no response. - -Soaked to pulp her sketch-book was found at the foot of the creek -washed inshore, and, if other evidence of a tragedy was wanting, -something was seen floating in the oozy waves about ten yards distant. - -Jack, the terrier--that dog which had such amazing facility for -getting into canine troubles--sprang in, and yapping and yelping laid -that something at the feet of his mistress, who recognised at once -her sister's garden-hat; and a low cry of despair escaped Mary as she -turned it over in her trembling hands, and painfully and vividly it -brought before her the face, figure, and whole individuality of the -lost one. - -A torrent of tears escaped Mrs. Deroubigne, but Mary seemed to have -lost the power to shed one. - -Even as the angry waves came rolling into the creek, so did wave -after wave of sorrow seem to be coming upon her again, dark and sharp -as ever. - -'Oh, Lord--how long--how long!' she wailed in her heart. - -She stretched out her hands as if clutching the air for support, she -swayed a little, and then, her strength failing her, she would have -fallen on her pallid face had not Mrs. Deroubigne caught her fast in -her motherly arms. - -Night drew on and day came again without a trace of the lost one, -dead or alive. - -Baron Rolandsburg, who was appalled by a catastrophe so sudden and -unforeseen, corroborated the story that she had gone on the stretch -of dry sand to sketch, and no doubt remained till the sudden tide had -overtaken and overwhelmed her! - -He now made himself invaluable in his exertions for intelligence. -Rewards were offered to boatmen and river-pilots, and in the -_Hamburger Nachrichten_ and other journals 'for her remains' (how -horrible did this sound), but unknown to Mary, who was for several -days and nights all but unconscious. He also put himself into -communication with their _Herrshaften_ (their Excellencies) the four -Burgomasters and four Syndics, and the Gendermerie, but all in vain. - -Other traces of Ellinor than those which the hungry waves had washed -to Mary's feet were never found! - -The latter was now a prey to two emotions, when a time came that she -could consider calmly. One was an intense longing to get away from -Altona as a place which had now become hateful to her, as the scene -of so much sadness; and the other was an affectionate repugnance to -leave it, until her sister's fate was made certain, and her remains -found. - -But the latter might have been washed out to sea, and never--never -might be heard of more. - -The inexorable had to be accepted, but we fear that poor Mary -Wellwood could not do so with the calmness of a disciple of -Epictitus, the stoic. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -THE SEQUEL. - -Ellinor's sketching, as we have said, did not progress much. - -She was full of thoughts, yet none of pride, of flattered vanity, or -exultation were in her mind, but a dull and curious sense of fear and -shame--a vague consciousness of doubt and wrong. - -Could it be that she--unwittingly--had in any way given encouragement -to this young baron, or done aught that led up to the sudden -declaration he had made? - -She could not tax herself with having done so. She liked him very -much--who would not that knew him?--he was so suave, so gentle, and -so manly. But love, no--she had no heart for him; and how were they -to meet now, after this? - -She felt as if suddenly wakened from a dream; but a more terrible -awakening was soon to come upon her. - -'Nonsense!' she thought; 'this silly young officer must evidently -love or flirt with some one. Latterly it was Mary, now it is -Ellinor.' - -The Baron Rolandsburg was--as Sleath had been in her eyes -apparently--the possessor of all she had wished for, and learned to -worship--position, rank, riches, and luxury; but neither could love -her as poor Bob had done! And now Ellinor was--when too late for the -sake of the latter--changed from a somewhat selfish and frivolous -girl into a woman of thought, and one capable of much endurance and -self-sacrifice. - -Through Sir Redmond Sleath her pride had received a severe shock; she -had long since come to loathe the very idea of him; as for his name, -it never escaped Mary or Mrs. Deroubigne, and her soul sickened when -she thought of all she had sacrificed for his unworthy sake, and of -the horrible pitfall he had prepared for her. - -But why recall these things now, she thought, as she resumed her -pencil. - -The deep red tints of the golden sun, setting amid fiery haze beyond -the Elbe and the tiny hills of Hanover, lay in all their richness on -the creek, on the villa and its flowers and shrubs: on Altona in the -background, with all its rows of poplars and pointed roofs; and -Ellinor often paused in her work, and, wooed by the lap, lap, lapping -and murmur of the tide, sank into a kind of dream. - -The present fled--the past returned. - -She no longer saw the rows of lofty poplars, the long _Palmaille_, -and the great church of Altona, or the house on the hill where -Dumourier dwelt. She was back in the old summer garden of -Birkwoodbrae, with the fragrance of its roses and honeysuckle around -her; she heard the familiar hoot of Mary's pet owl--the owl that -Robert Wodrow had risked his life to secure; she heard again the -murmur of the May and the song of the thrush mingling with the rustle -of the silver birches that shadowed the roof under which her parents -died. - -So, lulled by the beauty of the evening, by the warmth of the -sunshine, and the murmuring wavelets of the glorious river, she -dropped asleep. - -She could not have sat thus above twenty minutes when she was -suddenly awakened by the flow of water over her ankles, and, starting -up, found herself surrounded by water--water on all sides, and water -between her and the shore, which was nearly a quarter of a mile -distant, but seemed to be much further off, the once dry sands being -now covered by the incoming flood-tide--a tide that flowed with -exceeding violence and fury. - -A half-stifled shriek escaped her, and she started to her feet. Her -easel had been swept away; she attempted to run shorewards; but as -the water deepened and rose to her knees she uttered a despairing -cry, and rushed back to the sandy knoll on which she had planted her -chair, and over which the encroaching water was rising and deepening -with every inward flow of the waves. - -She was lost! - -From the beach (that seemed now so awfully distant) not a soul seemed -to observe her terrible predicament. - -From being shrill and continuous, her despairing shrieks became -hoarse and faint, and, worse than all, the wind seemed to sweep them -seaward. Wild and black despair, with the terror of immediate death, -filled her heart. What terrible retribution was this? Was she to -perish by drowning--to die the same death that Robert Wodrow had -died--to perish and leave poor Mary alone in the world--all alone! - -She parted the rich brown hair from her brow, and, casting her eyes -upward to the flushed evening sky, prayed for strength to die, and -for submission to the will of heaven; and, even as she prayed, a wave -that rolled nearly to her knees made her stagger. The sandy knoll -was completely covered, and the water was rising fast. - -A very few minutes more and she would be swept off her feet, to sink -and drown! Across the waters of the broad river, the red sun, now -level with them and the flat horizon, shed his dazzling rays into her -eyes, that were becoming half-blinded by the rising spoon drift torn -from the waves by the storm. - -It all seemed an unreality--a horrid nightmare. - -She heard, or imagined she heard, a cry of encouragement--of coming -succour; but, blinded by terror and despair, she knew not whence it -came, whether from the land or the water. - -A numbness seemed to creep fast over her--a sensation, or rather the -want of it, that threatened speedily to paralyse alike thought and -feeling. - -Human endurance, in the weak and delicate form of the girl, could -stand no more; an incoming wave, stronger than the rest, struck her -above the waist, and she fell backwards into the water, and, as the -latter rose over her head, her senses left her, and darkness closed -around her. - -Anon she breathed again, and the light flashed into her eyes. She -found herself in a boat, encircled by the strong and protecting arm -of a man, and closed her eyes with an invocation to heaven, believing -that she was being rowed shoreward, for she could hear the regular -dash of the oar-blades, and the hard breathing of those who pulled -them; but she remained passive and voiceless, with closed eyes, -incapable of volition, almost of thought, and certainly of speech. - -After a brief space the boat jarred against something. It was the -side of a vessel, and she felt herself lifted upward--up--up--and -placed in the arms of a man, whose exclamation gave her a species of -electric shock. - -It was the voice of Sir Redmond Sleath, and it was his astonished and -certainly bewildered face that she found close to her own when she -opened her eyes, only to shut them once more, as weakness and horror -took away her senses again. - -_Sleath!_ - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -THE HAKIM ABOU AYOUB. - -'I am on the eve of departing with Sir Louis Cavagnari to Cabul,' -Colville had written. 'With his mission the chances of future war -are over, and then I can come home with honour--home to you, love -Mary.' - -But while the British troops were now retiring from every point -within the new frontier, Colville, to whom activity or action of any -kind was a species of relief till he could once again see her whose -varying expression of feature defied alike artist or photographer to -fix or do justice to, gladly undertook to convey to the viceroy at -Simla that letter from the Ameer which brought the embassy into -existence--the embassy which was doomed to have such a fatal end--and -a portion of that fulsome, false, and deluding document ran as -follows, after the usual solemn invocation which preludes every -chapter of the Koran, and the words of which, when sent down from -Heaven, caused, says Giaab, the clouds to fly eastward, the winds to -lull, the sea to moan, all the animals of the earth to erect their -ears and listen, while the devils fell headlong from the celestial -spheres:-- - -'Be it known unto your High Excellency that since the day of my -arrival in Cabul from the British camp at Gundamuck I have been happy -and pleased with the reception accorded me by the British officers. -I had resolved to visit Simla and give myself the boundless pleasure -of a joyous interview with your Excellency, for the purpose of -strengthening our friendly relations, but circumstances prevented me -carrying my intention into effect... After completing my tour -through the country, during which I shall inspect the frontiers, I -intend, God willing, to have a joyful meeting with your Excellency, -for the purpose of making firmer the basis of our friendship and -drawing closer the bonds of our amity and affection. - -'Further, what can I write, beyond expressions of friendship?' - -So, encouraged by this letter, which was framed in the genuine -Oriental spirit of fraud and treachery, a brilliant embassy was -arranged. - -After delivering to the viceroy, the letter with which he had been -entrusted at head-quarters, Leslie Colville lingered for a few days -at beautiful Simla, where the Court Sanatorium is in a deep and woody -dell, called--doubtless by some old Scottish officer--Annandale, -where the forests are thickly inhabited by grinning baboons, having -white bodies with black hands and feet, and where a savage tribe, -named the Puharries, dwell among the hills, some of which are so -vast--though mere vassals of the Himalayas--as to seem like the -barriers of the world on the left bank of the Indus, from which they -slope down to the steppes of Tartary, the deserts of Gobi, and the -marshes of Siberia; and then he hastened again to the front to join -Cavagnari. - -The embassy and escort, the fate of which will never be forgotten in -the history of British India, consisted of seventy-six men of the -brilliant Guide Corps, twenty-six of whom were troopers, the rest -infantry, under Lieutenant Hamilton, V.C. Their uniform was drab -colour, piped and faced with scarlet. The ambassador was accompanied -also by a staff of medical and other officers, including his -secretary, Mr. William Jenkyns, of the Punjaub Civil Service. - -All set out on their perilous though apparently peaceful mission in -high glee, while the master spirit of the whole was Major Sir Louis -Cavagnari, then in his thirty-seventh year, a gallant officer who had -served with the Bengal Europeans in the Oude campaign, was present at -the capture of a brigade of guns at Shahelutgunge, and served with -the Kohat column at the capture and destruction of Gara. - -He was popular personally with the natives, as he could speak several -of their languages with fluency, while his bronzed features and dark -hair enabled him to assume when he chose, any Oriental costume with -facility, and thus he was invaluable in all cases where courage, -promptitude, and adroit demeanour were necessary. - -All our columns having, as stated, fallen back, the only British -troops now beyond the new frontier of Afghanistan were his slender -escort, with which he left Ali Musjid on the 17th of June, and rode -through the savage defiles of the Khyber Pass by Lalpura, Chardeh, -and once more in sight of Jellalabad, pursuing the course and bank of -the Cabul river. - -They had now traversed about sixty miles of their journey amid some -of the most stupendous scenery in the world, and the evening of the -second day's march was closing in when, near the Surkab, a stream -which joins the Cabul at the foot of the Siah Koh, a man was seen -gesticulating violently and making signs to them, on which the whole -party halted in obedience to command. - -Was he the harbinger of danger, the announcer of an ambush; had armed -_sungahs_ been formed across the path, or what? - -Carbines were unslung, revolver cases opened, sword-blades loosened -in the sheath, and there were whispers of treachery on every hand, -and every man's face darkened, and his brows were knit, in -anticipation of a barbarous struggle and having to sell his life -dearly, for they were all picked and tried soldiers, second to none -in Her Majesty's Indian army for daring and discipline. All were -splendid horsemen too--the mounted guides--and, like their infantry, -picturesque-looking fellows in their uniform and bearing. - -'The man is not an Afghan, but a European, so far as one can judge by -his face,' said Colville, who, with his bridle reins dropped on his -holsters, had been using his field-glasses intently. - -'He wears a scarlet _loonjee_,' said another officer, 'and his dress -seems a uniform. Strange, is it not?' - -'By heaven, he is one of the 10th Hussars!' exclaimed Colville. - -'What is he doing here? His regiment fell back with the rest of the -army weeks--yes, two months--ago. Can he be a deserter?' suggested -Hamilton. - -'Scarcely, when making for us in this frantic fashion,' replied -Colville. - -He came close up to the party, and, halting within ten paces, -saluted. Then all could see that he was a hussar, but wan, pale, -bearded, and with his braided uniform sorely worn and tattered. - -'Come on, my man,' cried Sir Louis Cavagnari; 'come on and tell us -how you happen to be here?' - -'I am here through God's mercy, sir,' replied the hussar, coming -forward, adding, 'Captain Colville--Captain Colville, don't you know -me?' - -'Robert Wodrow--Heavens above!' exclaimed the latter, holding out his -hand, which the former grasped warmly and energetically; 'so you did -not perish in the river?' - -'It was a pretty close shave, sir,--I shall never be nearer death -again, but once,' replied Wodrow, who seemed so faint that he could -scarcely stand, and received with gratitude a pull from an officer's -brandy flask. - -'Have you been a prisoner?' asked Cavagnari. - -'No, sir--I was long ill in the hands of the enemy, and was well -treated.' - -'Then you were not escaping?' - -'No, sir--but making my way to your party when I saw it on the march, -and I blessed God when I first heard of it, for I was told that the -whole army had fallen back, and that I--alone--was left behind.' - -'You are one of the Hussars who were swept away at the ford?' queried -an officer, suspiciously. - -'Yes, sir, and my story is rather a long one.' - -'We shall hear it in a few minutes,' said Sir Louis, and, riding on -slowly, the party reached the village of Balabagh, where it halted -for the night, and where the party found quarters. - -The story of Robert Wodrow, who was full of joy to find himself among -comrades again, was a very simple one, and, though made in the form -of a species of report or explanation to Sir Louis Cavagnari as the -senior officer present, was principally directed to Leslie Colville, -whom, of course, he viewed as a friend, and from whom he heard, with -no small dismay, of the actual extent of the catastrophe to the -squadron. - -Though kicked more than once by his own charger after he fell into -the stream, he had, after a time, got his feet free from the -stirrups; but was swept away like a cork by the current after he had -passed through the rapids. Being a good swimmer, he contrived to -keep his head above water, but was incapable of reaching the banks, -as they were steep, rocky, and in many places rose sheer like walls -from the bed of the Cabul. Thus he was borne for nearly three miles -below the point where so many of his comrades perished; and, feeling -that he could struggle with fate no more, was about to relinquish -further effort when suddenly voices caught his ear; he saw some -strange white figures near the bank of the river--figures like those -of witches or spectres as seen by the radiance of the stars (as the -moon was under a cloud now), and by some strange and lambent lights -that were floating on the surface of the water, and in the very midst -of which he suddenly found himself, but with a current which -shallowed so fast that he could make good his footing. - -Among the Mahomedans and Hindoos there is a pretty custom--which the -former have no doubt borrowed from the latter, as they both practise -it--of going to a river or tank after the fulfilment of a vow, and -setting afloat, as an offering, small, saucer-like lamps of -earthenware, each containing oil, with a lighted wick. - -After having said the _fatihar_, or necessary prayers, they watch -their votive lamps as they float down the stream, and girls often -augur their success in love by the steadiness of the journeying down -the darkening waters. - -There are certain seasons of the year, such as the Shabibarat feast -in the month of Shaban, when this ceremony is carried out on a vast -and beautiful scale. - -It was a fleet of votive lamps amid which Robert Wodrow now found -himself, and for a moment or two he had a striking view of some -groups of Indian girls clad in white floating drapery, their long -black hair unbound, their arms bare to the elbow, their other limbs -to the knee, half lost in shadow and half seen in light, upon the -steps of a Temple-ghaut--we say for a moment or two only, as on -beholding him rising, as it were, from the water, they fled with -shrill cries of affright. - -Worn and faint, and heedless of what became of him, he reached the -marble steps of the ghaut, and lay there for a time oblivious of -everything. - -When he recovered a little, though well-nigh dead with cold and -exhaustion, he could see by the light of the moon, which now shone -out clearly, a tall, thin, and venerable-looking Afghan bending over -him. - -His ample beard was snowy white, his eyes were keen and glittering, -his features were of the Jewish type peculiar to the country, while -his costume was that of the primitive Afghan--wide pantaloons of blue -stuff, a brown camise with flowing sleeves, and a black fur cap. - -Putting a hand on Wodrow's head, he told him in Afghani--which is the -Pushtu language spoken by all the Afghans, and the origin of which is -unknown--to take courage, as he would protect him; and Robert Wodrow, -having picked up a little Sanscrit from his father, the old minister, -made a shift to understand him, and knew also that he quoted the -fourth chapter of the Koran, which recommends charity and protection -to all helpless strangers. - -And between cold and exhaustion, added to more than one kick from his -horse, poor Wodrow was helpless indeed, but he had fortunately fallen -into excellent hands--those of Abou Ayoub, a good, pious, and -intelligent hakim, or physician of the adjacent village, the -inhabitants of which were friendly to the British, or to anyone who -would protect them from the Afreedies on the one hand and the -Khyberees of the Suffaidh Koh on the other, and for defence against -these the village, which consisted of a mosque, a tank, and some -sixty houses, was surrounded by a strong wall pierced with double -rows of loopholes for musketry. - -He conveyed him to his house, and there on a _charpoy_, or native -truckle bed, Robert Wodrow lay for days and weeks in fever and -delirium, attended by the hakim and his three daughters and a Belooch -slave. The former had skill enough to dose his patient with -ipecacuanha, with infusions of manna, and food, including rice, -tamarinds, and stewed prunes; but he and they believed much more in -sentences of the Koran, written on paper, and washed off into the -drink he imbibed, which was generally cool tamarind sherbet, that -proved in times of feverish thirst a delicious draught, especially -from the hands of Ayesha, the eldest and prettiest daughter of the -three. - -Among the Afghans women are not secluded from all male society, as -they are strictly in other Mahommedan communities, for the women of -the middle and lower orders share in all the domestic amusements of -their husbands, who generally content themselves with one wife, and -in the country the latter is unveiled. - -Young unmarried women are distinguished by wearing their hair loose -and by their trousers being white. Thus Ayesha and her two sisters -wore their long black hair loose, but interwoven with gold chains and -strings of Venetian sequins. And the hakim, who never omitted an -opportunity of quoting the Koran, duly informed Robert Wodrow that -she was so named from Ayesha--one of the four perfect women, and a -wife of Mahomet the Prophet--a lady who had a very terrible adventure -in the sixth year of the Hejira. - -After a few weeks of their care, Robert became convalescent. He was -young, courageous, and buoyant with hope; he felt a trust in his own -resources and exertions, and, encouraged by the praise he had won -from Colville and other officers, had begun to take a new interest in -life--to have some hope for the future, and a desire to grapple with -any difficulties and dangers that lay before him; but certainly he -felt something akin to consternation when informed by the hakim that -the Treaty of Gundamuck had been signed; that Great Britain had made -peace with the Ameer; that all our troops had retired towards the -Indus, and that he himself was left behind among the wild mountains -by the Surkhab, some seventy miles from the frontier--a distance -which he could scarcely hope to traverse alone on foot in safety, -amid such perilous surroundings. - -'Death cometh to everyone--even though he be in a lofty tower, saith -the Koran, but your time, Feringhee, is not come yet,' said the Hakim -Abou Ayoub to his guest, while smiling at the scared expression of -his face. - -The house of Abou Ayoub was a low but comfortable-looking building, -surrounded by groves of tall palm-trees; it had a flat roof and a -verandah, where Robert and the Hakim sat at times in the evening -smoking, talking of the time when the former must make an effort to -get away, or listening to the girls playing the saringa, or native -guitar, and singing monotonously the odes of Rebman, the Khan of the -Khutticks. - -In this verandah the Hakim received his poor patients, who gazed with -wonder and awe when the door of his sanctum or surgery was open, -though therein were only a few boxes of books and drugs--a great vase -of rose-water, and a three-lipped brass lamp suspended from a tall -iron rod--for with them the science of healing was associated with -something of sorcery and witchcraft. Robert Wodrow, with all the -Hakim's kindness, wearied of the routine of the daily life there--the -perpetual prayers and ablutions of his host. At each meal the old -man always poured water into a brass basin, in which Robert had to -dip his hands ere he could plunge them into the pilao, which Ayesha -had prepared; though, sooth to say, the Hakim, after uttering the -invariable Bismillah, usually had his fingers in first, selecting the -most delicate morsels for his guest, as knives and forks are unknown -in the land of Baber. Then would come little cups of savoury -curries, chutnees, and sweetmeats; and, when evening fell, ablutions -again; a white cloth was spread over the carpet, and, turning his -bowed face in the direction of Mecca, old Abou Ayoub devoutly said -his prayers for the night. - -There is a language of the eye, and a freemasonry when hand touches -hand that all women know or learn; and ere long Robert Wodrow -discovered, to his alarm, that the eldest daughter of his host had -eyes for him alone--we say to his alarm, for, if he did not respond, -her heart might grow revengeful. - -This made his situation perilous amid society so strange, and more -intently did he long to be gone, though the girl was, in her own way, -very pretty, very fair for an Afghan, and coquettishly wore the -brightest coloured camises, embroidered vests, and laced trousers of -the finest muslin to attract him, - -When the Hakim was absent, there was no mistaking her languishing -demeanour, which sorely perplexed the hussar. - -If she loved him, as he doubted not, he at least did not know how to -fall in love again, and to what end could it be with _her_? - -Too intensely had he passed through the passion not to know how it -was crushed out of him by the agony of loss; and he had but one -desire, to get well and strong, and at all risks evade this new peril. - -One morning the Hakim came to him with a face expressive of -excitement and pleasure; it was to announce that a _tchopper_, or -Cabulee mounted courier, had ridden through the adjacent pass and -seen British troops marching north-westward from Jellalabad. - -'British troops!' exclaimed Wodrow, starting up, and at the moment in -haste to be gone. - -'Bismillah, not so fast, my son,' said the Hakim; 'you must have food -ere you go.' - -In haste Ayesha prepared for him a _kafta kawab_, or dish of savoury -meat balls, with her own hands, and, unseen by Wodrow, her tears -dropped into the pipkin as she did so; but he could scarcely eat of -it, he was in such haste to be gone. - -From the loopholes in the village wall the Hakim showed him the gleam -of arms as a party of troops came defiling into the narrow valley, -through which the Surk-ab flows to the Cabul river, and then they -wrung each other's hands in farewell. - -'Peace be upon you!' cried Wodrow, who knew enough of the language to -say this. - -'And likewise on you be peace and the mercy of God!' cried the Hakim, -in his sonorous Afghani, and another moment saw Robert Wodrow -hurrying down the hillside, and leaving the walled killa, or village, -fast behind him. - -'Things in this world wag strangely,' said Robert Wodrow to Colville, -and forgetting that others heard him. 'As you may know, I didn't -care to live; but I pulled through--pulled through when those with a -happier future and more hope might have succumbed.' - -What followed has already been narrated. - -'After the kindness of that old Hakim to me, I shall ever think well -of these Afghan fellows in future,' said Robert. - -'Quite right too, Wodrow,' responded Leslie Colville; 'but we have -yet to see how we get on with them at Cabul.' - -He had his doubts, and, curiously enough, they were prophetic. - -With a sigh of genuine thankfulness, Robert Wodrow accepted a few -cigars from the proffered case of young Hamilton, of the Guides (a -gallant fellow who had already won the V.C.), as luxuries he had not -known for many a day. - -'And now for the march towards Cabul--nearly eighty miles from the -village of Balabagh. As I have a spare horse, you shall ride him, -Wodrow,' said Colville. - -'I shall never forget your kindness, sir.' - -This was all Robert Wodrow said, but his heart was very full, for -Colville's manner and bearing to him were kind and considerate in the -extreme; and he knew that--the latter's generosity of nature -apart--much of this sprang from their mutual regard for Mary and -Ellinor Wellwood. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -AT CABUL. - -For Robert Wodrow to attempt to make his way alone to where his -regiment was now quartered far in the rear, through passes filled by -savage tribes, was not to be thought of; thus nothing was left for -him but to proceed with the ambassadors' escort to Cabul. - -He was safe now, and had escaped from that terrible catastrophe at -the Ford of Isaac; but poor Robert was only a corporal, and the -public papers barely recorded the circumstance. Now he was once more -with Europeans; his whole bearing rapidly changed; his weakness and -illness seemed to leave him, his step resumed its buoyancy, his eyes -their fire and, if sad, old devil-may-care expression. - -Though Robert Wodrow, by enlisting in the hussars, had opened a -considerable social gulf between himself and Captain Leslie Colville -of the Guards, it was impossible for them both not to have many -sympathies in common; thus oblivious of that gulf the two rode -frequently together, talking of the Wellwoods and the Birks of -Invermay, on the route by Gundamuck, Suffaidh Sang, and Hazardaracht. - -On service the bonds of rank and even of discipline, so to say, are -often loosened, for the experience of fighting side by side makes the -finest qualities of the soldier, forming the true and loving link -between the officer and his men. It fires the sense of -_esprit-de-corps_, and blots out all the ignobler phases of garrison -and barrack life, teaches self-reliance, inspires _cameraderie_ and -patriotism, and makes men less coarse in speech and kindlier to each -other in spirit, and more grave and earnest with the work in hand. - -After halting for the night near Hazardaracht, or the 'Place of the -Thousand Trees,' Sir Louis Cavagnari and his party pushed upwards to -the famous Shutargardan Pass, which is eleven thousand five hundred -feet in height, and from thence the road to Cabul lies through narrow -and rock-bound denies. - -Immediately below this mighty mountain eminence lie lesser hills that -diminish in height as they slope down into a vast plain in the -richest state of cultivation, dotted by numberless villages, all of -the most picturesque aspect. - -At Shutargardan the embassy found themselves in the land of the -powerful and most warlike Ghilzie tribe, whose fighting force was -estimated at nearly two hundred thousand men; but there they were -received with every outward honour by an escort of the Ameer's -regular troops, whose equipment caused some surprise and even -merriment among the Europeans of the escort. - -'By Jove, Colville, here are some countrymen of yours!' cried a staff -officer, choking with laughter, as some of the Ameer's 'Highlanders' -presented arms. - -The Ameer had actually dressed a body of his troops in tartan kilts, -in imitation of the Gordon Highlanders, whose costume had greatly -impressed him, and these they wore over baggy cotton breeches; while -the cavalry who accompanied them wore the same nether garments (minus -the kilt) with red tunics, white belts, and helmets of soft grey -felt, and in addition to tulwar and pistols, every man rode with a -whip, the wooden handle of which, when not required, was stuck into -his right boot. - -They had smooth-bore carbines slung over the right thigh, muzzle -downwards. - -'A precious set of dark-looking duffers they are,' was Robert -Wodrow's off-hand comment, as he surveyed them. - -Escorted by these troops, Sir Louis Cavagnari and his companions -continued the remaining forty-five miles of the journey to Cabul, -passing Kushi and other fortified villages, and it was not without -emotions of interest and anxiety too, that they found themselves on -the 24th of June, entering the gates and traversing the streets of -that hitherto openly--perhaps yet secretly--hostile capital, which is -surrounded by low, barren, and rocky hills, but amid a plain which -time and human industry have made wondrously fertile and beautiful. - -The dark-visaged and motley crowds in the streets--Afghans, -Kuzzilbashes, Persians, Tajiks, and Jews--scowled very unmistakably -at the Feringhees, whose presence they did not want, whose prowess in -recent wars they feared, and whose race and religion they loathed. - -The streets through which the visitors rode were all built of -sun-dried bricks and wood, about two storeys high, with flat roofs, -and low, square doorways, now and then a larger one, with a -mulberry-tree overhanging a mud wall, indicating the residence of a -great man. - -The city is three miles in circuit, and is dominated by the Bala -Hissar, in which the embassy took up their quarters, a place -incapable of being defended, though the citadel, in consequence of -the ruinous condition of its walls and ramparts. It has, however, a -wide ditch, and stabling for a thousand horses. - -It is half-a-mile long by a quarter of a mile broad, and presents -externally a cluster of lofty, square, embattled towers, with its -chief strength, or inner citadel, high up on the slope of a hill. - -As they entered its arched gate between two circular towers, Colville -heard a voice amid the scowling crowds exclaim, with uplifted hands, - -'La Ilah ilia Allah? Why does not He shrivel them all up by a flash -of lightning, and cast them into hell for ever?' - -The speaker mingled with the multitude, but not before Colville -recognised his figure, and remembered Mahmoud Shah, the sham hadji of -Jellalabad; but it would have been alike unwise to notice or pursue -him at that crisis. - -In the Bala Hissar there were assigned by the Ameer apartments for -the use of the ambassador and his suite and escort--apartments having -marble floors and walls covered with arabesques, old as the days of -Tamerlane and Baber perhaps, certainly as old as those of Nadir Shah, -and for a time the whole party were to all appearance well received -by the Sovereign and his people; but after a little space the former, -notwithstanding his hollow protestations and fulsome letter to the -Viceroy at Simla, grew cold and haughty, and daily saw less and less -of Sir Louis Cavagnari, while the mobs without began to manifest -alike turbulence and insolence, and the isolated embassy was -doubtless involved in peril. - -Roving brigands infested all the roads around the city, yet the -months of July and August passed, quietly enough, though some Afghan -troops who had marched in from Herat used threatening language -against Sir Louis and insulted the soldiers of his escort, on one -occasion compelling Colville and two of the guides to draw their -swords. - -It has been said--but we know not upon what authority--that Cavagnari -received distinct information that the lives of himself and all his -companions were in imminent peril, but the letters which those -gentlemen sent to India, and those which Mary Wellwood received at -long intervals from Colville, gave no indications of apprehension. - -Yet a stormy cloud was gathering over the picturesque towers of the -Bala Hissar. - - - -END OF THE SECOND VOLUME. - - - -LONDON: PRINTED BY DUNCAN MACDONALD, BLENHEIM HOUSE. - - - - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COLVILLE OF THE GUARDS, VOLUME II -(OF 3) *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Colville of the Guards, Volume II (of 3)</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: James Grant</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 20, 2021 [eBook #66581]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Al Haines</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COLVILLE OF THE GUARDS, VOLUME II (OF 3) ***</div> - -<h1> -<br /><br /> - COLVILLE OF THE GUARDS<br /> -</h1> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3b"> - BY<br /> -</p> - -<p class="t2"> - JAMES GRANT<br /> -</p> - -<p class="t3"> - AUTHOR OF<br /> - "THE ROMANCE OF WAR," "THE CAMERONIANS,"<br /> - "THE SCOTTISH CAVALIER,"<br /> - ETC., ETC.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - IN THREE VOLUMES.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="t3"> - VOL. II.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - LONDON:<br /> - HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS,<br /> - 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.<br /> - 1885.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="t4"> - <i>All rights reserved.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> - CONTENTS<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> - I. <a href="#chap01">The Queen's Shilling</a><br /> - II. <a href="#chap02">In London</a><br /> - III. <a href="#chap03">No. 60, Park Lane</a><br /> - IV. <a href="#chap04">'So Near and Yet So Far!'</a><br /> - V. <a href="#chap05">'Some Day.'</a><br /> - VI. <a href="#chap06">Jack Shows His Teeth</a><br /> - VII. <a href="#chap07">The Daughter of Nox</a><br /> - VIII. <a href="#chap08">Mrs. Deroubigne</a><br /> - IX. <a href="#chap09">Was It Not a Dream?</a><br /> - X. <a href="#chap10">Going to the Front</a><br /> - XI. <a href="#chap11">At Jellalabad</a><br /> - XII. <a href="#chap12">The Hadji</a><br /> - XIII. <a href="#chap13">A Fight with the Mohmunds</a><br /> - XIV. <a href="#chap14">In the Lughman Valley</a><br /> - XV. <a href="#chap15">The Fancy Ball</a><br /> - XVI. <a href="#chap16">The 10th Hussars</a><br /> - XVII. <a href="#chap17">Lost</a><br /> - XVIII. <a href="#chap18">The Sequel</a><br /> - XIX. <a href="#chap19">The Hakim Abou Ayoub</a><br /> - XX. <a href="#chap20">At Cabul</a><br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap01"></a></p> - -<p class="t2"> -COLVILLE OF THE GUARDS. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER I. -<br /><br /> -THE QUEEN'S SHILLING. -</h3> - -<p> -Robert Wodrow, we have stated, had -disappeared from his home. -</p> - -<p> -Ellinor had apparently passed out of his -life, and he felt as if he had nothing more -to hope for in it; but the influence of her -memory hung over him still. -</p> - -<p> -Even the love he bore his poor old -mother failed to restrain his wild impulse, -his craving, to begone, he cared not where; -thus her influence also failed in getting -him to resume those medical studies which -he once pursued with enthusiasm, but now -relinquished with indifference or disgust; -and, under the disappointment and mental -worry produced by Ellinor's falsehood to -himself, he failed to graduate at the -expected time. -</p> - -<p> -'My poor boy!' his mother said again -and again, while stroking his dark brown -hair caressingly with her now shrivelled -hand; 'that cold-blooded girl has come -between you and your wits.' -</p> - -<p> -'Don't call her so, mother. Perhaps I -did not deserve her,' said he, humbly. -</p> - -<p> -'I used to sit and watch you both when -children many a time and oft, and think -what a winsome couple you would be in -the days to come. Ah me, Robert, your -one ewe lamb, and that stranger took it -from you, to be but a plaything for his -idle hours too probably!' -</p> - -<p> -'Mother, you torture me by all this kind -of thing!' exclaimed Robert. -</p> - -<p> -'It is perhaps but a sudden girlish fancy -hers for that man Sleath. It may pass -away and all yet be well.' -</p> - -<p> -'Never for me, mother. And you think -so meanly of me as to take that view of -the matter? I would not and could not -with my knowledge of the present seek to -have the past over again, and never more -can I look upon Ellinor Wellwood or think -of her save as I would of the dead. The -charm is broken, the flower has lost its -fragrance, and the peach its bloom.' -</p> - -<p> -'Why should the weakness or falsehood -of one person—one person only—wreck -the whole life of another?' asked his father, -with some asperity. 'It should not be -so.' -</p> - -<p> -'The old and the young view these -matters differently, father,' said Robert, -gently. -</p> - -<p> -'True. I have read that "in youth grief -is a tempest which makes you ill; in old -age it is only like a cold wind which adds -a wrinkle to your face and one more white -lock to the others. Yet there are people -who can feed themselves on their grief till -they grow fat on it."' -</p> - -<p> -But arguments proved unavailing. The -vicinity of Birkwoodbrae had become -intolerable to Robert now, and he resolved -that he would go far away from them and -the pleasant birks of Invermay; and he -openly announced his intention of becoming -a soldier, adding that nothing would -make him swerve from his purpose, as by -that means he would be taken to other -scenes and be under other influences. -</p> - -<p> -'Most evil ones, I fear!' exclaimed the -doctor, striking his hands together. -</p> - -<p> -'Oh, my poor infatuated boy!' added his -mother, while her tears fell hotly and fast, -and his father started from the table on -which the untasted dinner was spread, tore -open his waistcoat as if he was suffocating, -and paced about the room with impatient -strides, his whole form agitated with a -kind of convulsive agony that cut Robert -to the soul, but did not make him swerve -from his bitter purpose. -</p> - -<p> -'Consider the society and profligacy you -have to encounter—yea, such as even our -ancestor, in the third volume of his <i>Analecta</i>, -details when describing the schools of -profanity in 1726.' -</p> - -<p> -Then, after a time, finding that all his -opposition was vain, he said, in a very -broken voice, -</p> - -<p> -'God bless and protect you, Robert, and -may He forgive you for all the sorrow you -are causing us, as by such a course you -will be lost to us and to yourself, after all -our care and affection, after all your -painful anxieties at college, and after all your -good training and religious education.' -</p> - -<p> -'In three years I shall be an officer,' -exclaimed Robert, confidently, 'and won't -you and the dear old mother be proud of -me then?' -</p> - -<p> -But the minister shook his silver head. -</p> - -<p> -'Your future——' he began, and paused. -'Who can see the future?' -</p> - -<p> -'One above, Robert. And may He give -you the grace to think overall this terrible -purpose again.' -</p> - -<p> -Robert did think again, as he had -thought before, deeply and decidedly, and, -to avoid more painful scenes and partings, -he quitted his bed next morning while the -sky was dark, and no ray of light gilded -as yet the Ochil peaks. He dressed himself -in haste, took a few necessaries in a -handbag, and after kneeling softly and -saying a prayer at the door of the room in -which his parents were asleep, he tore -himself as it were out of the house and set -forth on his new path in life, the path by -which there might be no returning. -</p> - -<p> -In that time of supreme bitterness little -could the poor fellow see all that was -before him. -</p> - -<p> -The morning was still dark, but the sky -was clear and starry; the great hills and -tall silver birches in the foreground stood -blackly up against it, and he could hear -that sound so familiar to his ears—the -rush of the May over its rocky bed. -</p> - -<p> -He gave a lingering farewell glance at -the roof of the old house which had been -his home since first he saw the light -there—the abode, with all its old-fashioned but -substantial furniture, to which his mother -had come a smiling and blushing bride in -the past time—the abode, till now, of so -much peace, frugality, and happiness—and -with a bitter sigh he turned his eyes -resolutely away. -</p> - -<p> -Then, if aught was required to nerve -him, it was the next feature in the still -and sombre landscape; the smokeless -chimneys and darkened windows of -Birkwoodbrae—the now empty shrine where -so long his idol had been. -</p> - -<p> -'Oh, all I have ever loved!' he exclaimed, -and, wringing his hands, set out -with all speed upon his way, haunted, -however, by the coming grief of those he -was leaving behind when his place was -found empty; when his mother's eyes -would have a vacant chair to contemplate -and his father's reverend head was bent -with sorrow, as it would be in the -separation that was to come; and what is -separation to the loving but a living death? -</p> - -<p> -The next day found him among the -wide and stately streets of the Modern -Athens, willing to enlist in the first -regiment any member of which came in his -way, for he was drawing a chance in the -lottery of life now, and to him all -regiments were alike; so, as Fortune had it, -he met a hussar, to whom he expressed his -wishes, and from whom he soon receiyed, -with all due formality, that magic coin <i>the -Queen's Shilling</i>, and became what is termed -'a Headquarter Recruit,' enlisting for 'short -service'—i.e., six years with the colours. -</p> - -<p> -Six years! In these days of steam the -progress of events is so rapid, what might -not happen in that brief space? -</p> - -<p> -He had answered all the usual questions -by those entitled to make them as to his -age, name, parish, and calling, with others -that were less pleasant, as to whether he -had ever served before, or been marked -D. or B.C.; this formality over, and oath -of attestation taken before a bailie of the -city—the oath to 'be faithful and bear -true allegiance to Her Majesty, her heirs -and successors; obey all orders of Her -Majesty, her heirs and successors; and of -all the generals and officers, &c.,' set over -him—being concluded, a night intervening -between enlistment and attestation, nothing -remained, as his new friend, Sam Surcingle, -said, 'but to have a drink over it.' -</p> - -<p> -This opinion was concurred in by -several smart but long-legged fellows in -braided trousers, and tight jackets, with -caps like scarlet muffins, jangling -jack-spurs, and riding switches, who seemed all -opportunely at hand, and suffering from -chronic thirst, all the more so as the new -recruit seemed to have some loose cash; -and a suitable tavern (the 'Scots Grey') -being at hand, Robert Wodrow soon found -himself acting as host to a military circle -which made up in heedless jollity and -noise what it might lack in rank and -distinction. -</p> - -<p> -Yet among the half-dozen or so of his -new friends were, at least, two of those -ill-starred fellows so frequently to be -found in our cavalry regiments at all -times, but more especially just now, those -who by extravagance and dissipation or -failing to achieve the insane 'cramming' -of the present day, had lost their chance -of commissions, and taken 'the shilling' -from sheer love of the service, and the -desperate hope of rising in it. -</p> - -<p> -One of these was a mere youth, who, -as Sam Surcingle said, 'had a long -pedigree behind and a long minority before -him;' the other, Toby Chase, the heir to -an ancient baronetcy, was older, and -drank fast to drown care, shouting, with a -laugh, -</p> - -<p> -'To-day—to-day is for me; to-morrow -is the paradise of the fool! Your health -and promotion, Wodrow, old fellow!' -</p> - -<p> -Glass succeeded glass; toasts and -anecdotes—some of the latter not very -classical—followed each other fast, till the -sharp trumpets blew 'the last post' in the -adjoining barrack square of Piershill, and -the hussars had to hurry to quarters, and -we are sorry to admit that for perhaps -the first time in his life—even during -his college career—Robert Wodrow had -contrived to get disreputably tipsy. -</p> - -<p> -He had no care for the present and no -anticipation of the headache and shame -of the morrow, with the disgusts of the -rough riding and 'barrack fatigue,' such -as carrying coals or refilling mattresses -with fresh straw; neither was he troubled -with the natural reflection of what would -be the emotions of his highly-principled -and purely-minded old father and mother -could they have seen him then, when he -had spent the last of his cash on his new -comrades, and was voted the king of good -fellows, and with one of the before-mentioned -scarlet muffins on his head, but -cocked very much over the right ear, he -flourished a riding-whip, while joining, but -with a somewhat 'feathery' voice, in the -song, -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'How happy's the soldier that lives on his pay,<br /> - And spends half-a-crown out of sixpence a day!<br /> - Little cares he for the bailiff or bum,<br /> - When he pays all his debts with a roll on the drum.'<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -And so, for a time, Robert Wodrow -passes out of our story; but a time only. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap02"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER II. -<br /><br /> -IN LONDON. -</h3> - -<p> -Ellinor was thinking of Redmond -Sleath—when was she not thinking of -him!—during all that long, long journey from -the North to London, and Mary had been -painfully struck by her alternate nervous -anxiety and dull, mechanical acceptance of -her own attentions and care during its -progress. She seemed at times like a -somnambulist—one moving in her sleep -rather than one to whom the journey -should have been an excitement and a -novelty after the long years of quiet and -seclusion at Birkwoodbrae, hence the strain -upon her overwrought nerves was ere long -to bring a serious illness upon her. -</p> - -<p> -A cab—a genuine London cab, one of -those clumsy four-wheeled 'growlers,' -peculiar to the modern Babylon and to no -other place—cramped, damp, frowsy, far -from sweet-smelling, and sorely perilous -for ladies' dresses—had conveyed the -sisters, both feeling somewhat scared and -disconsolate, from the Northern Railway -to the classic region of Paddington by -day, and luckily for them not by night. -</p> - -<p> -The long drive westward by the Euston -and Mary-le-Bone Roads had seemed -apparently interminable, and most weary -after a long journey by rail; and then the -architecture, construction, and material of -the houses—brick, always and for ever -brick—looked strange and foreign to their -eyes, and so ere long they reached the -Terrace, which adjoins Paddington Church. -They had read of and heard a deal about -the famous old Court suburb of Kensington, -and thought the locality to which a -chance had taken them might prove -something like it. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Fubsby, their landlady, whose -address had been given to them by her -nephew, Joe Fubsby, guard of the northern -train (the chance above referred to), and -hence their selection of such a singular -place, received the weary travellers kindly -enough. She seemed a motherly, well-disposed -woman, but soured in disposition -by past wrongs or sorrows. -</p> - -<p> -She was about forty years of age, had -some remains of beauty, and had seen -better days and had other hopes (as usual -with her class), all of which she was not -long in hinting. -</p> - -<p> -The sitting-room into which she ushered -them, though scrupulously clean, had a -mouldy odour, suggestive of the adjacent -hideous churchyard; it looked small, poor, -and shabby. Gaudy artificial flowers in -vases of Derby spar were on the little -mantelpiece, and some highly-coloured -prints in Oxford frames were hung upon -the walls. -</p> - -<p> -The air felt close and heavy—oh, so -heavy, the girls thought, after the fresh, -pure breezes of Invermay! In fact, there -seemed to be no air at all. -</p> - -<p> -Their sweetness and gentleness of manner, -together with their undeniable beauty, -attracted and won the—at first -suspicious—landlady, who bustled about and -prepared tea for them. She, however, put -great weight upon an introduction coming -through her nephew Joe; and her -confidence grew apace when she found Mary -scrupulously correct in her weekly -payments, and others of every kind, and thus -she complacently tolerated the presence of -Jack in her household. To have parted -with him would have stricken Mary's -heart. -</p> - -<p> -Ere the first day of their residence with -her was past, they were in full possession -of Mrs. Fubsby's personal history, which -she thrust upon them with that loquacious -communicativeness peculiar to the English -lower orders—at least so much of it as -she cared to tell—how her maiden name -was Seraphina-Mary-Ann—how she had -married a gentleman, who, however, did -not behave as such in the end, as he had -left her years ago, and she was now -reduced to have lodgers or boarders, and so -forth. -</p> - -<p> -Coming from a secluded country place -like their Perthshire parish, Mary and -Ellinor had no real idea of the world or of -life, as it is called—more than all, the -bustling, busy, tearing, selfish, and -suspicious life of London, or the mighty and -close race for existence there. They knew -not yet that without friends and -introductions employments in teaching music or -drawing were all but unattainable. -</p> - -<p> -A few days passed on. Advertisements -were studied daily and replied to -sedulously; but no answer came. They could -not know that for each of these -employments there might be two thousand -applicants! So their poor hearts grew -hopeless and weary—often sick with alarm as -money dwindled away; and day by day -they looked out, either on the frowsy -churchyard, where not a blade of grass -grew between the closely packed -tombstones, or the equally frowsy canal, with -its barges cleaving the muddy water and -oozy slime; and as they were totally -ignorant of London, for a time, the poor -girls supposed it must be <i>all</i> like their -then sordid surroundings. -</p> - -<p> -Paddington, where Francois Thurot, the -famous corsair, won the bride in whose -arms he died in battle, and where in the -last century the Guards coming from -Hounslow were wont to halt for the night, -prior to marching for the little London of -George II., was, some fifty years ago, a -kind of suburban village, a rural and -pretty place, with its grassy green and the -old 'Wheatsheaf' Tavern, where Ben -Jonson drank his beer, even after its quaint -Gothic church, where the Sheldons were -entombed by its solemn yew-tree, was -replaced by the present hideous square -edifice, with its pillared portico and -trumpery cupola starting from amid that -veritable stoneyard of graveslabs, among -which lie the remains of the beautiful -Mrs. Siddons and of the luckless painter -Haydon—an odious and festering place, where, -Dr. Ashburner tells us in his work on -'The Dynamics,' his nervous patients were -wont to see nightly the pale and lambent -dead-lights rising from the corrupted -soil. -</p> - -<p> -Whether it was the result of all she had -undergone of late, or that the atmosphere -of the place affected Ellinor, Mary never -knew; but her colour faded out—the ruddy -tint left her lips, and her dark hazel eyes -grew dull as she became prostrated by a -nervous illness, which added sorely to the -cares, the troubles, and expenses of the -latter, for Ellinor required wine and many -little luxuries. -</p> - -<p> -Energy seemed to have left her. Ellinor -was but twenty, but already her life -seemed over and done with! -</p> - -<p> -And now that her secret love affair was -apparently a thing completely of the past, -Ellinor showed Mary the gift of Sir -Redmond, and bursting into a flood of -hysterical tears told her all—of the baffled -elopement; and then Mary, catching up Jack, -covered the dog with kisses. -</p> - -<p> -There were at least two reasons why -no letters ever reached Dr. Wodrow, and -that, to him, the movements of the sisters -seemed involved in painful mystery. -</p> - -<p> -Two letters that Mary wrote to him had -miscarried, and, as no answers came to -them, with over-sensitiveness and doubt, -she misconstrued the silence of her good -old friend, and, believing that he resented -Ellinor's treatment of his son, would now -ignore their existence. -</p> - -<p> -'I shall write no more,' said Mary. -'Can it be that Lady Dunkeld has ruined -us among those who knew us? If so, -there is one use in adversity—we can tell -our friends from our enemies.' -</p> - -<p> -So in sorrowful doubt she did not write -again; seeking for employment and -nursing Ellinor occupied all the thoughts of -Mary, who became almost distracted with -a fear that the former might be sent by -Mrs. Fubsby to a common hospital. -Nothing, perhaps, was further from the good -woman's thoughts; but Mary had heard, -or read, of such things. Thus, fully -occupied, she wrote no more; and, as -time went past, the mystery grew at the -manse of Kirktoun-Mailler, and in the mind -of Colville also. Everything painful, -horrible, and disastrous was fancied, and -advertisements put by the latter in the <i>Times</i>, -however carefully yet pointedly worded, -were never seen by Mary. So in these -our days of penny post and cheap telegrams, -they remained lost, untraced, and -undiscovered by those who loved them -best. -</p> - -<p> -She had both confidence and patience; -and patience is mental strength -concentrated. Her religious education had also -taught her resignation, and she felt that -'let the sands drop through the glass ever -so slowly, there is a time when they end; -there is a time for us all; no matter the -hour, for God thinks it the best.' -</p> - -<p> -Yet often as she sat, busy with crewel -work for sale, by Ellinor's bedside, the -notes of the passing bell in the cupola of -the adjacent church—a toll unknown in -Scotland—smote a gloom upon her heart -with every measured stroke. -</p> - -<p> -No pessimist was Mary Wellwood in -temper or heart, and no manufacturer of -artificial sorrow; yet the idea occurred to -her with terror—what if she should lose -Ellinor, and be left alone in this bitter -world? -</p> - -<p> -As petty trifles, like airs and scraps of -frivolous songs, will haunt the mind in -times of dire calamity, even of death, -Mary's thoughts would run persistently on -the feathered pets and flowers she had once -at home—even on the sparrows for which -she was daily wont to spread crumbs, -where they would find none now; and she -actually envied her old owl; he, at least, -was at home in his ivied ruin, that looked -down on Invermay. -</p> - -<p> -Thinking thus, Mary would sit in the -evening twilight by the open window, -through which came the roar of mighty -London; but not the flower-scented air -that hovered over their lost home; and -while the stars, dimly seen in the smoke-laden -sky of London, stole into sight, she -thought of the green Ochil peaks, over -which the same stars were shining brightly, -like vast diamonds set in azure. -</p> - -<p> -Ellinor recovered and gained strength, -but still able to do little with her pencil. -</p> - -<p> -Evening walks, as among the green -lanes and shady paths in the glen where -the May flows, they could have no more -now. They seldom saw the sun set; and -when evening fell the streets in their -vicinity became filled by people whose -appearance appalled them. There were -vicious-looking men and more vicious-looking -women from the adjacent Edgware -Road; vendors of carrion on wooden -skewers, known as 'cat's-meat;' vendors -of roasted potatoes and chestnuts; boiled -oranges; of plums, the bloom of which was -due to clothes-blue; vendors of milk, the -component parts of which made one shudder; -of queerly-painted pugs and yellow-painted -sparrows; of red pots of earth, -with rootless twigs of flowers stuck in -them—another London dodge—yet declared -by the vendors to be 'all a-growing—all -a-blowing.' -</p> - -<p> -With such plants as these Mrs. Fubsby -was not to be 'took in,' and so preferred -paper flowers. -</p> - -<p> -Ellinor contrived to finish one of her -best landscapes—a view on the May—and -'room' was given it by a kind of picture-dealer -close by, but it remained in his window -unsold, and apparently unnoticed by -all—save the flies, who did not improve it. -</p> - -<p> -Mary's confidence at times began to -desert her when she felt how hard it would -be for them, all unaided as they were, to -win their daily bread and add to the little -pittance they had, among that vast human -tide of busy, cold, careless, and apparently -unsympathising people who poured past -her in the streets. -</p> - -<p> -Her sweet face began to look anxious, -sorrowful, and pale under the ripples of -golden brown hair that fell softly over her -broad low forehead; and ere long the two -sisters began to want many things to which -they had been accustomed. -</p> - -<p> -'What is to be the end of it all?' Mary -would think, as she came slowly back to -tell Ellinor of some fresh disappointment, -or that her picture was still unsold. Mary -was growing paler, Ellinor could see—yes, -she looked older; her figure seemed less -round, though graceful as ever. Her -street dress was beginning to look poor -and even shabby. Oh, how sad and -horrible it was! -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Fubsby pitied the girls for their -want of success, while she admired their -perseverance. A well-meaning woman, she -had some suggestions to 'hoffer,' as she -said, which made Mary's blood run cold. -</p> - -<p> -Among these were two—that, as she -was 'so 'andsome,' she might get a -situation in the mantle department of some -great shop, or as a species of lay-figure to -show off the goods, and who knew but one -of the 'walkers' might take a fancy to -her? or to work a sewing-machine in the -window in the gaze of all those men and -boys who would be certain to crowd thereat, -and flatten their noses against the glass -while critically surveying her. Another -suggestion was to sell poor Jack, whom -Joe Fubsby said was well worth 'a ten -pun' note;' but Mary would rather have -starved than parted with her dog. -</p> - -<p> -With a burning cheek and a beating -heart, and feeling certain that she would -be viewed with suspicion, and perhaps -insulted, she ventured into a shop in the -Edgware Road, where an 'honest' dealer -gave her less than the third of the value -for Sir Redmond's chain and locket. This -sum helped them on a little; but again -finances began to fall, and, clasping her -slim white hands, Mary began to think it -was useless attempting to struggle any -more. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap03"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER III. -<br /><br /> -NO. 60, PARK LANE. -</h3> - -<p> -In a work of fiction, says a writer, 'the -reader will find a hundred strange -meetings and coincidences—old lovers coming -face to face after years of separation, -friends thought dead rising up at the -corners of the streets, and the good -characters appearing <i>ad libitum</i> to confound all -the bad in the concluding chapters. Critics,' -he adds, 'laugh at all these wires which -pull the Minerva puppets, but <i>real life</i> has -often, more than one imagines, its strange -meetings and coincidences too—old lovers -and friends do start as from Hades into -our presence sometimes, and if a good -genius in the shape of a father, or big -brother, or a policeman did not come to -the rescue at times when the last hope was -failing us, what a deal more misery there -would be in the world.' -</p> - -<p> -Thus it was, through this doctrine of -strange chances, that Mary Wellwood was -soon fated to meet Colville on two -occasions, and they came to pass as follows. -</p> - -<p> -Mary had clever little hands, and had -frequently made up <i>such</i> caps for -Mrs. Fubsby, and arranged her ribbons and -laces so nicely, that she conceived the idea -of obtaining some employment for her -needle, as Ellinor still required many little -things that were procured for her with -difficulty. -</p> - -<p> -With high beating heart she one day -entered a millinery establishment, and -timidly suggested that she was clever as a -worker, at trimming, cap and bonnet-making, -and entreated a trial to be given -her. Her soft voice and pleading face -went for nothing. She was repelled coldly, -even superciliously, and the door was -pretty plainly indicated to her; so she -issued forth into the bustle of the Edgeware -Road again with a heavy, bitter, and -irrepressible sigh. -</p> - -<p> -It was a dull and depressing day early -in October, when what remains to us of -foliage and sunshine are held on a -precarious tenure indeed, and people become -conscious of 'snow in the air;' when the -gardener's work consists chiefly of 'sweeping -up' the leaves that come rustling down -and tidying borders after the blasts of -wind. Frost, however, had not come, and -the parterres of Hyde Park, the phloxes -and the late gladioli, still continued to -make a brave show, though the dahlias -drooped heavily when the dews fell. -Overhead the sky was dull and leaden, of the -usual London tint, and no one could tell -in what quarter of it the sun was hidden. -</p> - -<p> -Mary peeped into the dealer's window, -and another sigh escaped her. Ellinor's -landscape was still there, and, of course, -unsold; so again she thought to herself, -'what was to be the end of it all?' -</p> - -<p> -As a last effort she sought a music shop, -where she had often given specimens of -her accomplishments on the piano, and -where she had frequently applied, without -success, for pupils. -</p> - -<p> -The proprietors liked her voice, but her -pale face, with its rare charm of expression, -and soft violet-blue eyes, was beginning -to have a sad and hunted look. -They also (for they were judges) liked her -manner—who did not?—so faultless and -graceful in its self-possession even yet, and -her tones so sweetly modulated and pleasant; -thus they were honestly anxious to -help her if they could, and had hinted if -she took to the stage she might make a -fortune in 'the profession.' -</p> - -<p> -They had heard of no pupils yet; but -music—a musician—an accomplished -pianist was wanted for a dance, to be given on -the morrow night—two guineas were the -honorarium—would she accept it? -</p> - -<p> -She thought what the sum might get -for Ellinor, and accepted the proposal at -once. -</p> - -<p> -The money would be paid her at the house. -</p> - -<p> -'Where is it?' she asked. -</p> - -<p> -'No. 60, Park Lane.' -</p> - -<p> -And her informant added that she must -go nicely—at least neatly—dressed; and -she hurried home with a lighter heart. -Distasteful though the position and -occupation, it was at least a beginning, and no -one knew aught of her or her antecedents. -</p> - -<p> -Next night she attired herself with care, -gracefully, and, perhaps, artistically, in a -soft and clinging lace-trimmed dress of -creamy Indian muslin. It was perhaps -rather too much for the <i>rĂ´le</i> she had to -play; but it was one of her best costumes, -with lace at her white slender throat, -and shading her bare and very lovely -arms, while her only ornament was a single -white rose in her breast. So, gloved, -shawled, and with her roll of music, she -drove away in a 'growler,' the last words -she heard being expressions of admiration -at her appearance from Ellinor and Mrs. Fubsby. -</p> - -<p> -On past the Marble Arch, and into that -aristocratic line of varied and strange-looking -houses, Park Lane, which, in the -time of Queen Anne, was generally known -as 'the lane leading to Tyburn,' where -the gallows bore its ghastly freight. -</p> - -<p> -'Number sixty,' she again told her -cabman, when he suddenly pulled up, and -she now remembered that she had omitted -to ask to whose house she was going. -Though she ought to have been there -among, or prior to, the first arrivals, the -position was so new to her that she was -a little late, and already several carriages -were on the line before her, 'setting -down,' at a lighted portico, duly furnished -with a striped canopy and carpeted steps. -Thus, during the brief pause that ensued, -she was enabled to see that it was a -stately house she was bound for. Though -October, the night was fine, and the -windows were open. She obtained, through -them, a glimpse of a splendidly-furnished -double drawing-room, with blue silk -curtains festooned within an arch; already -several guests were gliding to and fro, -and the fragrance of flowers and perfumes -was wafted outward on the night air. -</p> - -<p> -A painted and partially curtained -verandah overhung the garden—a verandah -made like a fairy abode by shrubs and -flowers, by Chinese lanterns, ottomans, -and couches; and she felt a strange, -spasmodic tightening of the heart, for there -was a figure that seemed familiar to her -hanging over a lovely girl, who was flirting -languidly with her fan. -</p> - -<p> -As one in a dream, she found herself -deposited at the door, and ascending with -her music-roll the fast crowding staircase -that led to the dancing-room, attended by -a footman as a guide; but the lady of the -house, whoever she was, did not condescend -to receive her. And her pretty bare -arms were noticed as she seated herself -at the piano-stool. She had too much -dress 'for one in her position,' some -matrons thought suspiciously, all the more -so that many men remarked and admired -her; but she adjusted her music and -programme, bent her sweet face closely -over the former, and played on, and on, -and on, till her little fingers ached, oh, so -wearily, into the hours of the night and -the early hours of the morning. -</p> - -<p> -But ere the latter came one or two -episodes occurred. -</p> - -<p> -She discovered, first, that she was in -the house of Lord Dunkeld! Parliament -was sitting, and his lordship, as one of -the precious sixteen called -'Representative Peers,' was consequently in town; -but for all the good he ever did Scotland -or her interests he might as well have -been at the North Pole. -</p> - -<p> -To Mary Wellwood, with her sensitive -pride and memories of the past, this was -a sickening discovery to make! There -was, however, no retreating now. She -resolutely kept her face from the guests, -and played on as one in a dream, with -the soft patter of feet and whirling of -skirts in her ear. -</p> - -<p> -Once or twice she thought that the cold, -calm eyes of Lady Dunkeld recognised -her, and then, flushing deep to the nape -of her delicate neck, she bent lower still -over her music. If it was so, the pale -and handsome peeress made no sign, and -gave not the slightest evidence of -recognition. -</p> - -<p> -The longing to be gone in Mary's heart -was intense, and to her the hours of that -night seemed interminable. -</p> - -<p> -Though 'town was empty,' as she heard, -she was thankful that the rooms were -crowded to excess; that the dancers had -scarcely room to move, and thus she had -the less chance of recognition. -</p> - -<p> -Mouthing fools with lisping lips, parted -hair, and a great display of shirt-front -were there, and men of brilliant intellect -too, with many stately women and lovely -girls such as London alone can boast; and -Blanche Galloway moved among them -like a bewitching little queen, superbly -dressed by all the care of Rosette. -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly Mary had another shock and -tightening of the heart when two familiar -voices fell on her ear, and she discovered -near her Colville—Colville and Sir Redmond -Sleath, the latter, as usual in -accurate evening costume, with his tawny -moustache, <i>insouciant</i> air, and china-blue -eyes. -</p> - -<p> -The sense of Colville's presence -suffocated her, and memory went back to that -last interview in which he suddenly drew -her towards him and kissed her so tenderly -and hurried away on their being interrupted, -leaving unsaid what he was bound -in honour to say, but urging her to do -nothing rash until 'to-morrow'—the -morrow that never came! -</p> - -<p> -'Hah, when did you come to town?' -asked Sir Redmond. -</p> - -<p> -'More than a month ago,' replied Colville. -</p> - -<p> -'From Craigmhor?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes; you left before I did, you remember?' -</p> - -<p> -'Sudden business called me to town. -When you left how were our fair friends -at Birkwoodbrae?' -</p> - -<p> -It was terrible for Mary to sit there -helplessly and overhear this conversation; -but there was a buzzing sound in her ears, -and she failed to catch Colville's answer; -and Sleath spoke again— -</p> - -<p> -'I knew you were deuced spooney on the -eldest one. Got over it all now, of -course—<i>pour passer le temps</i>.' -</p> - -<p> -'Spooney? I do not choose to have this -term applied either to myself or the lady -referred to.' -</p> - -<p> -'As you please. But surely you had no -more intention of committing yourself -seriously with her than I had with her -younger sister?' -</p> - -<p> -'What do you mean by talking of these -young ladies in this style to me?' asked -Colville, in a voice that seemed to have -suppressed passion in it, for at that -moment he was recalling some of Doctor -Wodrow's communications regarding the speaker. -</p> - -<p> -'Why, what on earth are they to you? -demanded Sleath, focussing him with his eyeglass. -</p> - -<p> -Mary did not hear the response, but was -aware that Sleath started and said, -</p> - -<p> -'What new dodge is this?' -</p> - -<p> -'I am thinking of going to India again,' -said Colville, bluntly, to change the subject. -</p> - -<p> -'Again—with all your wealth—what -folly!' -</p> - -<p> -'I seem to have neither kith nor kin to -care for, or aught to keep me here now.' -</p> - -<p> -'Ah—that red-coat business!' -</p> - -<p> -'What do you mean?' -</p> - -<p> -'As some one says, "We all know that -half a man's life is often spent in wanting -to put on the red-coat, and the other half -in wanting to put it off."' -</p> - -<p> -'No part of <i>your</i> life is likely to be -spent in either, Sir Redmond,' said Colville, -as he turned on his heel and left him. -</p> - -<p> -'To India again,' whispered Mary in her -heart; 'he thinks of going to India! -Well—what is he to me—what am I to him?' -</p> - -<p> -Mary observed that he danced little, if -at all, and that he certainly looked -grave—even sad and preoccupied, as he had -never done at Birkwoodbrae. -</p> - -<p> -Colville had never enlightened the -Dunkeld family, even before leaving -Craigmhor, of his relationship to the missing -sisters, or of those views, intentions, and -the little romantic plan between himself -and Dr. Wodrow, which had proved the -cause of so much distress and mischief. -</p> - -<p> -Blanche Galloway, her rival, as Mary -began to deem her again, was the gayest -of the throng there, and, leaning on -Colville's arm clingingly after a long swinging -waltz, was fanning herself, and laughing -at some remark that was, in her own -parlance, 'quite too awfully funny.' -</p> - -<p> -Intent on Colville and on others too, -smiling her brightest upon them all, but -on him in particular, and bestowing flowers -with great <i>empressement</i> from her ample -bouquet, as she sat with them in the -dimly-lighted conservatory, and flirted with -a science born of her partly French blood, -she never bestowed a thought on the -weary and silent musician, any more than -on the aiguletted valets who took about -the jellies and ices, etc. -</p> - -<p> -Mary saw that Colville sat out dances, -often with pretty companions, over whom -his handsome head was bent low in -confidential conversation, while he fanned -them with gallant assiduity. -</p> - -<p> -'You play most brilliantly, my dear!' -said a soft, sweet voice suddenly in Mary's ear. -</p> - -<p> -No one, as yet, had addressed her that -night, and she looked up with a startled -air to see a very handsome and motherly-looking -woman regarding her with kindly interest. -</p> - -<p> -'You have a most exquisite touch,' she -continued; 'how I should like my youngest -girl to have some lessons from you—even -as a permanent musical governess. -May I speak to Lady Dunkeld about it?' -</p> - -<p> -'Do not—please do not!' replied Mary, -imploringly; 'she knows nothing about -me; but I have another reason for -declining——' -</p> - -<p> -'Indeed.' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes, madam.' -</p> - -<p> -'A serious one?' -</p> - -<p> -'Very—a sickly sister whom I cannot -and would not leave to live alone.' -</p> - -<p> -'A most creditable reason to give,' said -the elderly lady, and was about to add -something more, when Lady Dunkeld -suddenly drew near, and in a hard, metallic -voice said, -</p> - -<p> -'Dear Mrs. Deroubigne, a word with -you before supper.' -</p> - -<p> -So, as the lady left her side, Mary -learned that Deroubigne was her name, -and, with gratitude in her heart for the -little bit of praise, recognition, and -sympathy, Mary thought she would never -forget her. -</p> - -<p> -The guests filed off to the supper-room, -whence ere long came the murmur of -voices, the sounds of laughter, the clink -of plates and glasses, and looking round -the empty drawing-room, strewed with -fragments of flowers, lace, muslin, and so -forth, Mary, like a hunted creature, thought -only of escape, but was informed that -refreshment for her was set apart from -all the rest in a private apartment. -</p> - -<p> -It was a pretty place, with carved oak -furniture, valuable pictures, and the -subdued light of a beautiful lamp was shed -on the dainty napery, silver and quaint -blue and gold service of the repast set -before her; but Mary was incapable of -eating—food would have choked her. She -held a glass of wine to her tremulous and -dry lips, but so tremulous too were her -fingers by long playing that she had to set -it down untasted. -</p> - -<p> -She then told the valet who attended -her that she was too ill to remain longer, -to make her apologies to Lady Dunkeld, -and to get her shawl and cloak from the -women in charge of the cloak-room. -</p> - -<p> -He did so with some surprise, that -increased when, on proffering her two guineas -on a silver salver as her fee, she said, -sharply, -</p> - -<p> -'Thanks. Keep the money, or spend -it in the servants' hall,' and hurried away. -</p> - -<p> -'Off her blessed chump, by jingo!' -muttered 'Jeames,' as he thrust the money -into the pocket of his yellow-plush -breeches. -</p> - -<p> -Escaping recognition by Mademoiselle -Rosette, who was having a flirtation in the -hall with John Gaiters (Sir Redmond's -man), Mary, in a tumult of distracting -thoughts, cabbed it back to St. Mary's -Terrace, so called, though it is a narrow -<i>street</i>; but that matters nothing in -London, where thoroughfares are called roads, -that are streets or squares, terraces or -crescents, and even hills, such as Ludgate, -or vales, such as Maida, without being the -slightest approach to anything of the kind; -but such are some of the many -idiosyncrasies of Babylon that puzzle the -intelligent foreigner. -</p> - -<p> -Mary was a wise girl; she knew that -the wounded heart of Ellinor, suffering -from certain remorse at her treatment of -the loving Robert Wodrow, and mortification -at the conduct of Sleath in never -attempting to visit or seek an explanation, -would not be healed by telling <i>all</i> that -she had overheard, and more that she -suspected, now only said that she had -recognised him and Colville at the ball -and nothing more. -</p> - -<p> -But this reticence proved rather a -mistake eventually. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap04"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER IV. -<br /><br /> -'SO NEAR AND YET SO FAR!' -</h3> - -<p> -After that night at Number 60, Park -Lane, a terrible sense of humiliation -oppressed Mary, and she knew not what to -do next. Such rencontres, she thought, -were not likely to happen in the mighty -world of London; yet the next meeting -she had with Colville occurred very soon -after, and gave her nearly as great a shock -as that at the ball. -</p> - -<p> -It was on a murky October Sunday -afternoon when Mary, finding herself near -Westminster Abbey, entered the vast -building, lured alike by curiosity to see -it and hear the service, for which the bells -were tolling. -</p> - -<p> -For a moment she looked about her and -saw how the mighty cruciform church -towered skyward above the dingy houses, -shops, and streets that lie so near it on -one side, and the handsome, open space, -with all its railings and statues, on the -other, and, tripping lightly over the flat -gravestones, she entered by the gloomy -northern door, and, after a little timid -doubt and hesitation, proceeded to an -empty pew in the north transept. -</p> - -<p> -The vast height of the shafted columns, -the darkened roof that sprang from them, -the dusky depths and ghostly uncertainties -of the edifice, which was of a size -and space beyond her conception; the -faint, leaden light of the London -afternoon that stole through its lancet -windows, and the grim aspect of the tombs -which crowd and disfigure the long drawn -aisles, were all solemn and oppressive to -Mary, yet curiosity detained her, and she -was glad to see a few persons—but how -very few they seemed—gathering to hear -the service, while the black-robed vergers -glided about, imparting, she thought, -something spectral to the vistas of the place; -and to her unaccustomed eyes the white -floating surplices of the officiating -clergymen and of the choir-boys seemed -something spectral too. -</p> - -<p> -A great sense of awe came over her as -she thought of all the mighty dead who -lay there, the dead of ages, beneath her -very feet—politicians, warriors, judges, -princes, and nobles, philanthropists, actors, -and physicians—the Pantheon of all the -English great—who in fighting the battle -of life have added to the renown of their -country. For a time she was drawn from -the constant sense of herself, of her own -sorrows, and the contemplation of thinking -how hard it was to win one's daily bread -in a vast city. -</p> - -<p> -Her veil was up, and had any there -regarded her face, they would have seen how -pale and sad it looked under the edge of -her little hat, and the ripples of her golden -brown hair that fell over her forehead, and -how pathetic was the expression of her -long-lashed, violet blue eyes. -</p> - -<p> -The bells had ceased to clash overhead, -and a few people were seated or kneeling -on hassocks in the chancel seats, while -some gas jets began to flicker out as the -afternoon light faded from the pointed -windows; and then the deep swell of the -organ, and the sweet voices of the -choristers stirred Mary's heart, and moved her -to tears, she knew not why, for the -solemnity of the scene soothed, while the music -comforted her, and to hide her emotion she -drew down her veil closely. -</p> - -<p> -While the psalm was being chanted -three ladies entered the pew before her, -and as there was not room in it for a -gentleman who accompanied them he took his -seat behind them, in the pew occupied by -Mary, and close to her side. -</p> - -<p> -Her heart stood still, and again the -sense of suffocation came with a spasm into -her slender throat, for he who sat beside -her was Colville, and the ladies were -Blanche Galloway, Lady Dunkeld, and -Mrs. Deroubigne! -</p> - -<p> -She respired with difficulty, and then her -heart beat fast; the service was -forgotten—unheard, all save the swelling of the -organ, which only seemed an element in -the phantasmagoria around her now; and -she strove—but that was impossible—to -forget who was by her side, and almost -touching her. -</p> - -<p> -She wondered if he would recognise her -figure; he could scarcely fail to do so, if he -looked at her; but he never did so, and -seemed wholly intent on looking into the -dusky obscurities of the church, or was -lost in his own thoughts. He had placed -a hand ungloved, with a gold signet ring -thereon—a ring the crest of which Mary -remembered well—on the edge of the pew -in which Blanche was seated; and making -a half turn round, with a bright and -coquettish smile, she rested her back against -his fingers, as much as to say, she felt -them there caressingly. -</p> - -<p> -Mary observed this, and also that after -a time he withdrew his hand, with an air -of unconsciousness, she thought. -</p> - -<p> -Blanche wore a magnificent sealskin -paletot, which contrasted powerfully with -Mary's somewhat faded jacket and equally -faded dress. How happy and bright and -well nourished she looked. There was no -care, no thought, no anxiety in her -sparkling dark eyes. Unlike Mary, she had no -dark or dubious future looming far away -before her. -</p> - -<p> -Mary remembered—when was she likely -to forget?—that he said he had no one to -care for, and was going away to India; and yet -he seemed to be on remarkably intimate and -pleasant terms with these Dunkeld people. -She fancied that Blanche had given him a -conscious and disappointed glance, when -he left her to take his seat behind her, as -if she seemed to think his proper place was -by her own side; and perhaps Mary might -have seen a disappointed look in his face, -had she seen it at the time. -</p> - -<p> -They might only be friends, but somehow -Blanche gave the silent watcher the bitter -conviction that she was certainly something -more. -</p> - -<p> -Mary knew that Colville had denied -being engaged to Blanche, and ridiculed -the rumour as Mrs. Wodrow's gossip. -True—but he might be engaged to her <i>now</i>. -</p> - -<p> -'If he still cares for me,' she thought, -'what a different answer would I give him -now. If not engaged, why are they thus -together, and why does she give him these -conscious and confident glances? Was he -deceiving me at—at Birkwoodbrae?' -</p> - -<p> -When Mary had taken her seat in that -pew, she felt a sense of awful loneliness; -but she felt many, many degrees more -lonely now. She felt also far, far removed -from him, and those whom he accompanied, -in her homely life and sordid surroundings -at Paddington. A vast gulf seemed -thereby to have opened between her and -Colville, such as did not exist at -Birkwoodbrae; and she thought of the day when -they fished together in the May, and other -days of delicious walks and rambles under -the drooping birches by the sparkling linn, -or among the scented pine woods that -were overlooked by the lovely green hills, -amid the bright sunshine and the odour of -the purple heather—of thoughts that came -and went—of hopes that dawned, and of -words that were uttered, or left unuttered. -At last the service was over, and the -few people who assembled to hear it—many -of them strangers only come to view -the church from curiosity—were hastening -away. -</p> - -<p> -As Mary rose, Colville did so too that -she might pass him. -</p> - -<p> -Still there was no recognition on his -part; his eyes were on Blanche Galloway, -and Mary quickly glided out of the church. -The rain was beginning to fall in the chill -October evening, and drawing her shawl -close about her she set out on her way -homeward, feeling that she would be -thankful for a seat in an omnibus. -</p> - -<p> -When she looked back, with an impulse -she could not resist, she saw Colville come -forth with Blanche, the other two ladies -following, as if the arrangement was a -tacit one. They all entered the stately -Dunkeld carriage, the driver and servants -of which wore ample fur tippets. The -door was closed with a bang, and they -drove off, passing Mary on the way, and -bestowing on her a few spots of mud. -</p> - -<p> -'To be so near—and yet so far!' she -thought, with a greater bitterness of heart -than she ever thought to feel—she was -usually so resigned and sweetly patient; -but she seemed to know the worst now, -and that all was over at last. -</p> - -<p> -The very circumstance of her having to -wander alone and unescorted through the -streets of London on such an evening -seemed to impress upon her still more the -difference of position, and the gulf that -lay between her and those she had seen -whirling away, as she doubted not, to -No. 60, Park Lane. -</p> - -<p> -That she had been recognised by some -one there on the night of the ball, she -thought she had mortifying proof when -next she presented herself before the -hitherto friendly proprietors of the -music-shop in quest of pupils or some -employment. -</p> - -<p> -She found their manner curt, changed, -and cold. -</p> - -<p> -'You need return no more,' she was -told. -</p> - -<p> -'Why?' -</p> - -<p> -'You failed to give satisfaction when we -found you employment last.' -</p> - -<p> -'In what way?' asked Mary, in a -breathless voice. -</p> - -<p> -'Lady Dunkeld informed us that you -left the house abruptly and in a mysterious -way.' -</p> - -<p> -Lady Dunkeld! So she in the plentitude -of her wealth, power, and position -was following up with a vendetta poor -Mary Wellwood. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap05"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER V. -<br /><br /> -'SOME DAY.' -</h3> - -<p> -The sale of Ellinor's landscape for a sum -beyond what she had expected for it, came -like a gleam of hope to the two lonely -girls, and the place in the window where -it had hung so long was now empty. -</p> - -<p> -'I wonder who bought it?' said she. -</p> - -<p> -'That matters little,' replied Mary; 'his -fancy, however, will give you encouragement, -nevertheless.' -</p> - -<p> -Ellinor blushed with pleasure. Her -picture was sold, but she little knew to -whom. -</p> - -<p> -She was now convalescent, able to go -abroad, and, like Mary, she had also the -coincidence of a strange and unexpected -meeting. -</p> - -<p> -One day, when the weather was clear -and sunny for the season, she went to -Hyde Park with her sketch-book, encouraged -to fresh efforts by her success, to -make another drawing. The subject was -to be some quaint old trees she had -noticed, and which she hoped might find -a purchaser in some one who knew the -locality. -</p> - -<p> -October had given these old oaks its -choicest tints, and, while some of their -leaves were russet-green, others were like -burnished bronze, and were red of many -hues; and, all the better for artistic -purposes, the chief of these venerable and -gnarled trees had a story, for under it -Horace Walpole, as he tells us, was robbed -in the winter of 1749 by the fashionable -footpad Maclean. -</p> - -<p> -'One night in the beginning of November,' -he writes, 'as I was returning from -Holland House by moonlight, about ten -o'clock, I was attacked by two highwaymen -in Hyde Park, and the pistol of one -of them, going off accidentally, razed the -skin under my eye, left some marks of -shot on my face, and stunned me. The -ball went through my hat, and, if I had -sat an inch nearer to the left side, it must -have gone through my head.' -</p> - -<p> -This event occurred within half-a-mile -of Piccadilly, and Ellinor, thinking how it -would enhance the value of her little -landscape, set to work in sketching the group -of trees. -</p> - -<p> -So intent was she with her pencil that -for some time she was unaware that she -was observed, or that anyone was near her -in that part of the then usually deserted -Park, till she suddenly saw a soldier—a -hussar—standing before her. -</p> - -<p> -'Robert—Robert Wodrow!' she exclaimed, -in a strange voice all unlike -her own, as the pencil dropped from her -nerveless hand. 'What does this -dress—what does all this mean?' -</p> - -<p> -'Ask yourself, Ellinor.' -</p> - -<p> -Tears started to her eyes at the familiar -voice, and so glad was she to see his -familiar face that, but for his too -probable misconception of her feelings and -the eyes of passers-by, she would have -thrown her arms round his neck and -kissed him. -</p> - -<p> -All unaware that he was so near her, -Robert Wodrow had been strolling through -the Park, thinking the while of a song -that Ellinor had been wont to sing to him -often in past days— -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Some day, some day I shall meet you—<br /> - Love, I know not when or how—<br /> - Only this, only this, that once you loved me:<br /> - Only this, I love you now, I love you now!'<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The tender and passionate refrain was -in his mind, and actually hovering on his -lips, when the face and form of Ellinor -came suddenly before him. -</p> - -<p> -'So you can amuse yourself thus,' said -he, picking up her pencil, 'and in spite of -all the misery that has fallen on me.' -</p> - -<p> -'I am working thus for daily bread, -Robert; and, oh, I knew not that you had -taken this terrible step.' -</p> - -<p> -'Becoming a soldier?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes.' -</p> - -<p> -Robert Wodrow was again face to face -with the girl he loved with a love so -unselfish and passionate, and so ungrudgingly -given in all its fulness and tenderness, -yet he made no attempt to take her hand. -</p> - -<p> -She thought that he never looked so -handsome as he did then, in his smart -hussar tunic—blue, faced with red and -braided with yellow. Club drill and sword -exercise had developed every muscle, while -setting-up drill and the riding-school had -given him that air and bearing our light -cavalrymen alone possess. -</p> - -<p> -'Why cast away thus your prospects in -life?' she asked, sadly. -</p> - -<p> -'I have none—I lost them with you.' -</p> - -<p> -'What dear friends we might have been—nay, -were, if with friendship you would -have been content, Robert!' -</p> - -<p> -'A view you only adopted after Sir -Redmond Sleath came.' -</p> - -<p> -Her pale face coloured deeply, and -perhaps guiltily, at this response, and he -regarded her earnestly. She was pale -certainly, and her lips had a pathetic little -droop in them, though their wonderful -sweetness of expression yet remained, but -her cheeks had lost some of their girlish -roundness and bloom. -</p> - -<p> -The atmosphere of most unclassic Paddington, -with its frowsy canal and fÅ“tid -churchyard, was truly somewhat different -from the breeze that swept the Ochil -ranges and down through the Birks of -Invermay. -</p> - -<p> -Robert realised at that moment how -dear, how inexpressibly dear to him, was -the girl he had lost, and between whom -and himself he had now opened a complete -social gulf, and how their past friendship -and love had crept into his heart and -settled there, making her still more precious -to him than life itself. -</p> - -<p> -When he spoke again his voice was -strained and husky, and the tones of it -were as those of a man in mortal pain. -</p> - -<p> -'How is dear Mary?' -</p> - -<p> -'Well—very well.' -</p> - -<p> -'From a remark you let fall about daily -bread, Ellinor,' said he, playing nervously -with the lash of his riding-switch, 'I can -gather that you are not married to that man.' -</p> - -<p> -'Most certainly not. I have never seen -him since we left home—for to us home is -not here.' -</p> - -<p> -'Thank God for your assertion! I have -heard a good deal about him among our -fellows; he is a deuced bad lot, and may -yet find you out. If he does, I beg of you -to pause, however brilliant his offers of -marriage may be. He dare have no other -view; if he had, if he had,' continued -Robert Wodrow, with his teeth set under -his dark moustache, 'and the grave had -me, I would come back to have vengeance -on him! Remember my words, I implore -you, Ellinor, by memory of the pleasant -past, when we were boy and girl together. -It is the last favour I can ask of you, and -too probably this is the last time we shall -meet on earth!' -</p> - -<p> -'What do you mean, Robert?' she said, -in an agitated voice. -</p> - -<p> -'I am only here for a day from Hounslow -Barracks, and in about a week the -regiment embarks for India—for -Afghanistan, thank God!' -</p> - -<p> -'How bitterly you speak!' -</p> - -<p> -'I gave up father, mother, home, peace, -and profession when I lost you; but, -pardon me, I did not mean to upbraid.' -</p> - -<p> -'Forgive me for all I have made you -suffer,' said Ellinor, humbly; 'I feel how -unworthy I am of all this great regard,' -she added, taking his hand caressingly -between hers; and then, conscious of how -her touch thrilled through him, she -withdrew her clasp, and both seemed on the -verge of tears, and might perhaps have -indulged in them but for the vicinity of -one or two observant and inquisitive -nursemaids, who marvelled at the interest the -young lady evidently took in the -handsome hussar. -</p> - -<p> -'And now I must go,' said the latter, -but lingered still, and, cut to the heart -with sorrow for him, Ellinor pressed her -hands upon her breast, as she yielded to -her better nature, but felt that now it was -impossible to retrace or reverse the past. -</p> - -<p> -'And you leave England for that far-away -land so soon?' -</p> - -<p> -'The sooner the better.' -</p> - -<p> -'Won't you come and see Mary ere you go?' -</p> - -<p> -'I should indeed like to see dear Mary -once again—she was always true to me,' -said Robert. -</p> - -<p> -'Do come, then,' urged Ellinor, heedless -of the deduction. -</p> - -<p> -'Not now, for I am almost due at -Hounslow; but when I come, I must -be—in uniform.' -</p> - -<p> -'That matters nothing; no one here -knows us or cares for us. Oh, how happy -she will be to see you in one sense, and so -sorry in another! The uniform is but a -trifle in one way.' -</p> - -<p> -'Moments make the year, and trifles -life,' said Robert, with bitter smile, -quoting Young's satire. -</p> - -<p> -Ellinor gave him their address—they -shook hands like friends, these two who -might have been all in the world to each -other, though in the world their paths in -life would lie far apart now—there was a -minute's pause, and in a moment more -Ellinor was alone. -</p> - -<p> -Her drawing was effectually marred for -the day; her head swam and her hand -shook, and forgetting all about Horace -Walpole's tree, she slowly quitted the park. -</p> - -<p> -'Poor fellow!' she thought, as the -hitherto restrained tears flowed under her -veil, 'I have used him ill—and yet how -soft and gentle he is with me!' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap06"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VI. -<br /><br /> -JACK SHOWS HIS TEETH. -</h3> - -<p> -Fortune seemed to be looking kindly on -Mary and Ellinor now, when the -former, through an advertisement, got a -couple of pupils, little girls, in the -neighbourhood of Portman Square, and the -latter had actually sold her landscape, and -started another. -</p> - -<p> -'The Linn on the May' had caught the -eye of Sir Redmond Sleath when passing -the shop window, not that he particularly -cared about pictures or art of any kind, -save the culinary one, but he thought he -recognised the subject—even the style -and the landscape—and on looking more -closely, after adjusting his inevitable -eyeglass, an exclamation of surprise or -satisfaction, perhaps both, escaped him on -discovering the initials 'E.W.' in one of the -lower corners, and he entered the shop at -once to inspect the landscape more closely. -</p> - -<p> -'I think I know the artist,' said he -to the bowing dealer, who was not much -accustomed to visitors of Sleath's style -and bearing. 'A young lady, is she not?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes, sir—yes—Miss Ellinor Wellwood.' -</p> - -<p> -'I thought so. I'll take her work.' -</p> - -<p> -'Thank you, sir. Shall I send it to -your address, your club, or where, sir?' -</p> - -<p> -'Neither. I'll take it with me.' -</p> - -<p> -Cautious in his plans, Sleath was reluctant -to give his address, but the price -was soon agreed upon, and the money paid. -</p> - -<p> -'I want a pair, and will order just such -another,' said he. 'Perhaps you can give -me Miss Ellinor Wellwood's address?' -</p> - -<p> -'Certainly, sir. She lives very near this.' -</p> - -<p> -'Near this! By Jove!' -</p> - -<p> -He obtained the number and the street, -and went off with the landscape, and with -curious emotions of hope and evil blended -exultantly in his heart. -</p> - -<p> -'Paddington?' he muttered, as he walked -off towards the Marble Arch. 'D—nme, -what a game! Are they so reduced, or -so ignorant, as to hang out there? -Courage, Redmond, my boy, and that charming -bit of muslin may be your own yet.' -</p> - -<p> -Sleath had been told plainly enough, -and sternly too, by Colville, at Lady -Dunkeld's ball, that Mary and Ellinor were his -cousins, who were ignorant of his identity; -but the too-knowing baronet did not -believe a word of his assertions, and, seeing -the matter through the medium of his own -evil mind, supposed the story was 'only -a red herring drawn across the scent'—a -dodge for purposes of the Guardsman's -own—so he sought counsel of Mr. John -Gaiters, while the latter prepared for him -some brandy and seltzer-water. -</p> - -<p> -'I am awfully spoony on a girl, Gaiters,' -said he. -</p> - -<p> -'That is nothing new, Sir Redmond; -but it won't last.' -</p> - -<p> -'It never does, I fear.' -</p> - -<p> -'Certainly not with you, sir,' was the -flippant reply of the valet. -</p> - -<p> -'Here is her name and address. You -will know her again when you see her, but -she must not know you. Find out all -about her—who she is living with, and all -the rest of it—and you will do for me -that which nothing can repay.' -</p> - -<p> -'By jingo, sir, I would rather do -something that could be repaid.' -</p> - -<p> -'Here is a fiver, anyway, and now be off.' -</p> - -<p> -Duly instructed, a couple of days -afterwards, and disguised by a false beard -and moustache, and clad in a tolerably -accurate morning suit, Mr. John Gaiters, -turning up his already tip-tilted nose at -having to traverse so unaristocratic a -locality as Paddington, soon found the -terrace and the number, and after an -external survey of the house, by means of -the knocker brought to the door a little -maid-of-all-work, on whose cheeks was the -black smudge so usual to her class. -</p> - -<p> -'Is your mistress at home?' he inquired, -blandly. -</p> - -<p> -'Yes, sir.' -</p> - -<p> -'Ah, is she handsome? But I need not -ask,' he added, insinuatingly. -</p> - -<p> -'Why, sir?' -</p> - -<p> -'Because, unless her beauty were not of -a more than ordinary character, she could -not afford to have one so excelling as you -by her side.' -</p> - -<p> -This high-flown speech, which Gaiters -copied from some of his master's, caused -the little housemaid to think he was mad -or tipsy, and she was about to close the -door with some precipitation, when -Mrs. Fubsby appeared, and, on inquiring for -Miss Ellinor Wellwood, he was informed -she was at home. -</p> - -<p> -The dealer had promptly informed Ellinor -that a companion was wanted for her -landscape, and while intent among the -many in her portfolio, she was not -surprised when Mrs. Fubsby announced a -gentleman visitor, who knew her face -instantly, though she failed to recognise the -bearer of many gifts of flowers and game -when at Birkwoodbrae. -</p> - -<p> -With all his vulgar assurance, the valet -felt himself for a little time daunted or -abashed by the presence and bearing of -Ellinor, to whom with some hesitation he -told the object of his visit—he had bought -her picture, and a friend of his wished one -precisely like it; and while he was speaking, -Jack, the terrier, with a dog's strange -instincts, maintained a most unpleasant -snarling under the sofa, and Gaiters, -remembering the episode of his master, felt -correspondingly uneasy. For 'though love -be proverbially blind, hatred has a sharp -sight,' and so had Jack, who showed his -white glittering teeth from time to time. -'Human beings have their instinctive likes -and dislikes, and why not dogs?' asks a -writer. 'We cannot tell what expression -of countenance they consider malevolent, -or menacing, or murderous; but certain it -is that they often exhibit unaccountable -antipathy to some individual, while most -affectionate and amicable towards all the -rest of the world.' -</p> - -<p> -So Jack's antipathy to Sleath now -extended to his emissary Gaiters. -</p> - -<p> -The landscape was soon agreed about—money -was no object to the visitor, who -quickly selected a subject from a rough -sketch, which Ellinor perceived with some -surprise he held upside-down, a curious -fancy in a connoisseur and patron of art, -and, in the interests of his knavish master, -Gaiters, anxious to learn the entire <i>carte -du pays</i>, said, -</p> - -<p> -'Do you live here alone, Miss Wellwood?' -</p> - -<p> -'I am not Miss Wellwood—my sister -is,' replied Ellinor, with a little hauteur of -manner. -</p> - -<p> -'Is she, too, an artist?' -</p> - -<p> -'No.' -</p> - -<p> -'And you live together—so sorry I had -not the pleasure of seeing her.' -</p> - -<p> -Ellinor thought this evinced curiosity; -but, thinking she might advance the -interests of Mary, she said, as Mr. Gaiters -took up his hat, -</p> - -<p> -'At this hour she is usually with her -pupils at Portmore Square.' -</p> - -<p> -'Ah—at this hour; we must make a -note of that,' thought Mr. John Gaiters, -and, forgetting again to refer to the -landscape, he bowed himself out, hailed a -hansom, and drove away, having obtained all -the information his master wanted—to -wit, that the sisters were living together, -unprotected, in somewhat humble lodgings, -and that Ellinor, at the particular time -mentioned, was always alone. -</p> - -<p> -'Such a pleasant and haffable gentleman, -and with such 'ansome whiskers,' -commented Mrs. Fubsby. 'Drat that -dog—why did it worrit so about him!' -</p> - -<p> -The report made to Sir Redmond by -his subservient emissary piqued and -encouraged him in his nefarious schemes. -</p> - -<p> -'Every woman has her price,' thought -he, as he sipped his wine that evening -after a cosy dinner at his club, and -dreamily gazed down the gas-lighted vista of -Pall Mall; 'if not to me, this little one -will become the prize—the prey of some -other fellow; so, with the basis I have for -future operations, why not to me? On -some pretence or other I snail get her -wheedled over to the Continent, and then -the game is my own.' -</p> - -<p> -In his instance it could not be said that -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Evil is wrought by want of thought,<br /> - As well as want of heart,'<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -for he gave his whole thoughts, and his -heart too—such as the latter was—to the -consideration and perfection of his schemes, -and exulted in the idea of outwitting -Colville, if he knew—as Sleath scarcely doubted -he did—the residence of the sisters. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap07"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VII. -<br /><br /> -THE DAUGHTER OF NOX. -</h3> - -<p> -'And you have actually found us -out—here? How strange!' exclaimed Ellinor, -blushing deeply with pleasure and surprise. -</p> - -<p> -'Through my appreciative friend—appreciative -in art, I mean—who bought -your charming landscape, the view of that -dear old—what is it?—Linn—Linn of the -May—yes, darling,' replied Sleath—Sleath -the slimy, with the china-blue eyes and -Mephistophelian smile, as he twirled out -his tawny moustache, and regarded the -girl with a passionate expression rippling -over his face. '<i>Après moi le deluge!</i> you -will think, perhaps; but now, darling -Ellinor, that I have found you at last, we -must not part again.' -</p> - -<p> -Ere leaving Birkwoodbrae Ellinor had -felt mortified, even insulted, on finding -that Sir Redmond, after the night of the -frustrated elopement, made no sign that -he remembered her existence; but the -moment she saw him the barriers she had -mentally raised between them fell at once, -and she no more sought, as she had done -of late, to erase him from her heart. -</p> - -<p> -Poor foolish Ellinor! -</p> - -<p> -'I had ever a hope,' said Sleath, -caressing her, 'that I would come upon you -suddenly again, and take you by surprise -with the earnestness and passion of my -love; and, Ellinor, the time has -come—thank heaven, the time has come!' -</p> - -<p> -And he cast his eyes upward and sighed -sentimentally to the ceiling. -</p> - -<p> -'An age seems to have elapsed since -that night,' he added. -</p> - -<p> -'I was at the appointed place,' -said Ellinor, softly, and colouring deeply. -</p> - -<p> -'So was I,' said Sir Redmond. -</p> - -<p> -'And why—why——' -</p> - -<p> -'Did I not appear, you would ask?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes—though perhaps it was as well -not now.' -</p> - -<p> -'I was pinned by the leg by that -accursed brute of your sister's.' -</p> - -<p> -'Jack.' -</p> - -<p> -'D—n him—yes! Pardon me; but -there was something grotesque, humiliating, -and exasperating in the whole -episode.' -</p> - -<p> -'I was certain it was thus; but—but -why did you never write to me?' -</p> - -<p> -'Never write to you!' exclaimed Sleath, -with well-feigned surprise; 'you -left—what's its name—Birkwoodbrae——' -</p> - -<p> -'Early in September.' -</p> - -<p> -'Exactly—that is the reason you did -not get my letters.' -</p> - -<p> -'You wrote, then?' exclaimed Ellinor, -her soft face brightening with pleasure. -</p> - -<p> -'A score of letters, and they were all -returned to me from the Post Office,' replied -Sleath, unblushingly. -</p> - -<p> -So Ellinor thought, 'I have wronged -him; it was but a short time ago since -this man loved me passionately, and so he -must love me still. No love worthy of the -name would die in a couple of months.' -</p> - -<p> -'I always wrote in fear, too, dearest -Ellinor.' -</p> - -<p> -'Fear of whom?' -</p> - -<p> -'Of your sister—of that old devil-dodger -Wodrow, that sly, spying fellow Colville—my -uncle, too, who is ailing still, but -whose wealth will all be ours—ours, -Ellinor! In my heart of hearts I have -ever looked forward to the time when—on -finding one who loved me truly—I should -settle down into a quiet life and be happy, -in a cottage near a wood, and all that sort -of thing if necessary, my wants are so -few—so simple; but that is not required; we -shall have a mansion in Belgravia, a moor -in the Highlands, a bog in Ireland for the -snipe shooting, a place in the Midlands, -and a yacht at Cowes, and heaven only -knows all what more—when my uncle dies.' -</p> - -<p> -And as he folded her caressingly to his -heart and nestled her face in his neck, the -poor little fool believed every word he -uttered; and then Sleath began to talk to -her of that dangerous and fascinating -past—the days of their early meeting among -the Birks of Invermay. -</p> - -<p> -Even while caressing and fondling her, -his practised eye took in the whole details -of the room in which they were seated, -with its furniture and appurtenances. -There was an air of poverty—even -meanness—he thought (for his eye was -accustomed to luxury and splendour) within the -place, and this, with the ugly and sordid -prospect without, as seen through the -windows, encouraged him greatly in his -insolent and daring projects. -</p> - -<p> -He would try again to carry off the girl -somehow—anyhow and without delay. -Who was to punish him, or who was there -to protect her? -</p> - -<p> -That 'cousin' story of Colville's was, of -course, all bosh! The very circumstance -of her residence in such a place as -Paddington proved it to be so. -</p> - -<p> -By a man of his address and past -experience in all manner of worldly rascality, -her timidity, coyness, or scruples must, he -thought, be eventually overcome. He had -entered stakes on the race; he would not -readily drop out of the hunt—the pursuit -of a helpless girl; if it did not redound to -his credit, it would at least afford him -pleasure, and if successful would flatter -his vanity, for her beauty was undoubted. -</p> - -<p> -Moreover, he strangely felt somewhat -revengeful for the trouble she had already -given him, and to this sentiment the -downfall of her pride and the destruction, if -possible, of her delicacy and purity of -nature would be soothing to his spirit. -</p> - -<p> -Even amid his caresses and love-making -there was an easy insolence in his manner, -born of his innate and perverse vulgarity -of race and nature, and encouraged by the -girl's unprotected condition, without -parents or brothers; but it was so veiled -that poor Ellinor never suspected it till he -said, with something of irritation in his -manner, -</p> - -<p> -'As for the old devil-dodger, we do not -require his consent now, I suppose?' -</p> - -<p> -'Who—what?' asked Ellinor, with perplexity. -</p> - -<p> -'Doctor Wodrow—the psalm-singing -old beggar.' -</p> - -<p> -'Do not speak of him so irreverently,' -said Ellinor, imploringly; 'he made a pet -of me from my infancy, and I love him as -if he was my father.' -</p> - -<p> -'Oh,' said Sir Redmond, jealously, 'and -his son, too, I suppose?' -</p> - -<p> -'How can you speak to me thus?' asked -Ellinor, as the agonised face of the young -hussar she had seen in the park came -upbraidingly before her. How little Sleath -knew or appreciated the depth of her pure, -innocent, and dreamy nature, albeit that, -through fanning her ambition, he had -taught her to be false to Robert Wodrow. -</p> - -<p> -After a pause, resuming his softest tone, -he said, while holding her hands in his, -and looking fondly and admiringly down -into her soft hazel eyes, -</p> - -<p> -'Then, dearest, you will, as before, -consent to a private marriage?' -</p> - -<p> -'If Mary will give me permission,' -replied Ellinor, slowly and with hesitation. -</p> - -<p> -'Mary—is she your keeper?' -</p> - -<p> -'She is my dear and only sister.' -</p> - -<p> -'But—but will she accord her permission?' -</p> - -<p> -'I can only hope so.' -</p> - -<p> -'If not?' -</p> - -<p> -'Then we can but wait.' -</p> - -<p> -'My uncle's death, for he will never -consent.' -</p> - -<p> -'It is a sad event to look forward to.' -</p> - -<p> -'Very,' replied Sleath, with difficulty -repressing a smile; 'but I cannot wait.' -</p> - -<p> -'There must be no running away—no -attempt at eloping again,' said Ellinor, -firmly. -</p> - -<p> -Sir Redmond thought of Jack's teeth, -and looked nervously and furtively about -him. -</p> - -<p> -'Jack is with Mary,' said Ellinor, who -detected the glance. -</p> - -<p> -'As you will—what you please, darling, -so that you'll be mine. I'll see a -sky-pilot—I mean a clergyman—on the subject,' -he added, thinking that, after a little -coaching, Gaiters might officiate in that -capacity; but then how about the registrar -and a church? 'Well, that is agreed -upon, and we shall soon be one.' -</p> - -<p> -To change the subject for a time, that -he might consider the further development -of his nefarious scheme, -</p> - -<p> -'How on earth did you come to select -such a queer locality as this to reside in?' -asked Sleath, looking with genuine -surprise at the humble but neat apartment, -where, however, there were now many -traces of ladies' hands and work. -</p> - -<p> -'It was a chance. We were, and are, -so ignorant of London.' -</p> - -<p> -'And your landlady—you have one, I -suppose?' -</p> - -<p> -'Is the kindest, most attentive, and -dearest old thing; not that she is very old -either. And she has seen better days, it -would seem.' -</p> - -<p> -'Of course. I never knew a landlady -who had not. And so she is kind to you?' -</p> - -<p> -'And to Mary—unvaryingly so.' -</p> - -<p> -'Ah, I must thank her for all this.' -</p> - -<p> -'Here she comes to lay the tea things. -Mrs. Fubsby,' said Ellinor, as the latter -entered the room, 'this is the gentleman -who bought——' -</p> - -<p> -'Fubsby!' interrupted Sleath, in a -dismayed tone. 'What the devil—Seraphina -Fubsby!' -</p> - -<p> -'Gentleman!' shrieked Mrs. Fubsby, letting -her tray fall crash with all its contents -on the floor. 'Villain! double-dyed -villain, do we meet again—again after all -these years?' -</p> - -<p> -'She is mad!' said he, starting to his -feet and keeping the table between herself -and him. -</p> - -<p> -'This is Sir Redmond Sleath!' exclaimed -Ellinor, in tones of terror and explanation. -</p> - -<p> -'The same man who married me under -the name of Redmond, and then deserted -me in France. My husband at last, after -all these years of cruel desertion.' -</p> - -<p> -'Your husband?' said Ellinor, in a voice -like a husky whisper. -</p> - -<p> -'Yes; and look at the white-faced craven. -He does not deny it. Listen, Miss Ellinor, -though what has brought him here I know -not. No good, you maybe assured. I was -waiting-maid to Lady Dunkeld in Paris -when he and I became acquainted on the -Boulevards, and he married me under the -name of Redmond.' -</p> - -<p> -'You married me, you mean, or thought -you did, you artful and accursed Jezebel,' -exclaimed Sleath, choking with rage. -</p> - -<p> -'Oh, what is all this I hear?' moaned -Ellinor, overwhelmed with horror, dismay, -and humiliation. -</p> - -<p> -'The bitter truth, young lady,' said -Mrs. Fubsby, beginning partly to take in -the situation. -</p> - -<p> -'You have no proofs now of what you -say, you infernal Jezebel, who in your -maturer years entrapped me in my -boyhood!' thundered Sleath. -</p> - -<p> -'No proofs!' -</p> - -<p> -'No—the old devil-dodger—the curĂ© -who performed the ceremony, as I suppose -you will call it, was shot in the days of the Commune.' -</p> - -<p> -'True, but the records of his chapel -still exist.' -</p> - -<p> -'What is all this to me?' -</p> - -<p> -'You will soon learn to your cost, now -that I have discovered you under your -true name.' -</p> - -<p> -As related, Mrs. Fubsby (who had -resumed her maiden name) was not without -personal attraction; but she was wasted in -aspect, though only about forty—perhaps -forty-five—years of age; and now her dark -eyes were ablaze with rage and grief. -Thus she spoke the truth when she said, -</p> - -<p> -'I was a pretty young woman, Miss -Ellinor, when I first met this wretch in -human form; but disappointment, disgust, -neglect, and shame, too, have all made me -what I seem now—old-looking, wasted, and blasted!' -</p> - -<p> -At this crisis Robert Wodrow came -upon the scene. Entering abruptly and -unannounced, he regarded the trio with -extreme bewilderment. He saw -Mrs. Fubsby, whom he knew not, convulsed -with just indignation; Ellinor in tears on -a sofa, her bowed face hidden in her -hands, her whole air that of one completely -crushed, and sitting gathered in a heap, as -it were; while Sleath, pale with rage, spite, -and baffled knavery, was about to withdraw. -</p> - -<p> -Robert Wodrow never stopped to make -any inquiry. He could only conceive one -thing—that Ellinor had been somehow -insulted or wronged. All the jealousy, -fury, and hatred that had so long swelled -in his heart now gushed up in fiercer heat, -and, endued with thrice his usual strength -thereby, he sprang upon Sleath, grasped -him by the collar behind, and, with many -a kick and heavy lash of his riding-switch -thrust him from the room, down the stair, -and headlong into the street, where by one -final impetus from his foot he flung him in -a half breathless heap by the kerbstone, -and then closed the house door. -</p> - -<p> -Gathering himself up quickly, Sleath -hastened away, registering a truly infernal -vow of vengeance—a vow all the deeper -that it was unuttered. -</p> - -<p> -Thus had light been suddenly and -luridly thrown on the great secret of his -life—the secret which prevented him from -raising his eyes to Blanche Galloway, as -stated in the fifth chapter of our first -volume—which he dared not do as a married -man. -</p> - -<p> -He was decidedly unfortunate in his -views regarding Ellinor Wellwood; and -now the daughter of Nox—inevitable -Nemesis—had overtaken him! -</p> - -<p> -Panting with exertion, and with -something of a grim laugh, Robert Wodrow -returned to the room, muttering to himself, -</p> - -<p> -'He'll not forget that last kick with my -regulation boot, in the region of the <i>os -coccygis</i>. By Jove, I haven't forgotten my -Quain and Turner! And now to find out -what all this was about.' -</p> - -<p> -We need scarcely say that Ellinor's -soul almost died within her at the -contemplation of the two narrow escapes she had -from ruin and despair! -</p> - -<p> -Robert Wodrow literally ground his -teeth when he heard of all that had just -transpired. -</p> - -<p> -He looked worn and haggard, and amid -her own mortification Ellinor's heart bled -for him, for she knew that his life had -been crushed by her; while she was ever -to him -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'His love that loved him so,<br /> - His love who loved him years ago.'<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -'I don't think, Ellinor, said he, 'that -even in my dear old governor's "Analecta" -would he find a quotation suitable to this -fellow's rascality; but I agree with Calvin -and Knox in their views of some men.' -</p> - -<p> -'How?' -</p> - -<p> -'That they are born to be damned, and -this fellow Sleath is one of them.' -</p> - -<p> -'If men or women are bad they often -become so through the faults of each other,' -said the landlady; 'but I'll bring my man -to book if there is law to be had in London.' -</p> - -<p> -And now Mary arrived, accompanied by -her faithful four-footed friend, who -recognised Robert Wodrow, despite his hussar -uniform, and was profuse in his delight, -leaping almost to his face at times. -</p> - -<p> -The minutes of this farewell interview -sped like lightning! -</p> - -<p> -Robert Wodrow, without a thought of -himself, had always loved Ellinor in the -past, and he loved her still, 'for true love -can live even in despair,' says a writer; -but true love is scarce as the phÅ“nix; -and he had for Ellinor, despite her ill-usage -of him, all the reverence that went out with -the age of chivalry. -</p> - -<p> -'I am going far away,' said he, while -hot tears rolled over the cheeks of both -girls, and his own too; 'and when we -meet again, if ever—if ever, Ellinor—we -shall both be old and cold perhaps—old in -experience, and—thank God—cold in -heart—old and cold, and feeling none of the -bitterness of an hour like this!' -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -A few days after the public prints -announced the departure of the Hussars for -India, and the sisters thought sadly that, -too probably, never would they see or hear -of Robert Wodrow again. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap08"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VIII. -<br /><br /> -MRS. DEROUBIGNE. -</h3> - -<p> -The advent of Sleath, and perhaps the -influence she had upon the life of Robert -Wodrow, had a crushing effect upon the -overwrought nervous system of Ellinor. -She was again ill—ailing with something -mental rather than bodily—and many little -comforts were necessary for her, thus -taxing Mary's slender exchequer sorely, and -adding to her anxieties. -</p> - -<p> -Colville had passed out of the life of -the latter, but not quite out of her -thoughts. He was going to India—she -had heard him say so. -</p> - -<p> -Perhaps he was already gone. So far -as the newspapers were concerned, she -had seen no notice of his marriage to -Blanche Galloway, an engagement with -whom he had so distinctly disavowed. -</p> - -<p> -For a moment vanity whispered to -Mary's heart, was he going far away that -he might forget herself? -</p> - -<p> -In this idea she was, perhaps, nearer -the truth than she knew. Her first and -only love affair—if such it really -was—had been a dream, and she thought, -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Life and the world and mine own self are changed<br /> - For a dream's sake.'<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -And Colville might, to a great extent, -have applied the quotation to himself, as -we may soon show. -</p> - -<p> -Times there were when Mary thought -bitterly, 'Why did he teach me to love -him, and then neglect me so? It was -cruel, cruel! I was so happy and content -till he came.' -</p> - -<p> -And often did this idea haunt her while -she taught her little pupils to play the -sweet, low 'Birks of Invermay.' But ere -long a shock awaited her. -</p> - -<p> -On leaving the house of these pupils -one day near Portman Square, she incidentally -saw, when taking her parasol off -the hall table, the visiting-cards of Lady -Dunkeld and the Hon. Blanche Galloway -lying there, and a thrill, a presentiment of -coming evil, filled her heart; this emotion -was verified when, on calling next day, a -brief note was handed to her, enclosing a -little cheque, with the blunt information -that her services were dispensed with. -</p> - -<p> -Her name had by some means caught -the ears of these malevolent ones, and -this, she knew, was the result of their -influence and enmity; and, gentle though -her nature, a rush of anger and disgust, -not unmingled with dismay, filled her heart. -</p> - -<p> -How was she to break this new calamity -to poor ailing Ellinor—the tidings of her -rude dismissal? And, loth to return -to her home, she wandered through the -streets for a time in aimless misery. -</p> - -<p> -To add to the gloom of her spirit, it -was a foggy November afternoon, and she -felt the most intense depression, all the -more so that she was as yet unaccustomed -to the breathless atmosphere, or rather -want of atmosphere—peculiar to London -generally, and never so much as in that -season—the month of death, as the French -call it. -</p> - -<p> -Walking onward in the aimless way -described, she found herself at the end of -Upper Brook Street, where it opens into -Grosvenor Square, and there a lady was -stepping from her carriage before one of -the stately mansions. Mary, full of her -own sad thoughts, nearly jostled her, and, -pausing, apologised. -</p> - -<p> -The lady, a tall and handsome woman, -paused too, and Mary recognised -Mrs. Deroubigne, who had complimented her -upon her playing, and spoken so kindly to -her at Lady Dunkeld's dance; and -something pleading and pathetic in Mary's -whole air and face now made Mrs. Deroubigne -regard her attentively for a moment. -</p> - -<p> -'We have met before,' said she. 'You -are the young lady I had the pleasure of -hearing play at Number 60, Park Lane?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes, Mrs. Deroubigne,' replied Mary, -in a low voice. -</p> - -<p> -'You know my name!' -</p> - -<p> -'I heard it mentioned incidentally, and -the kindness of your manner made it -dwell in my memory.' -</p> - -<p> -'You look both pale and ill, my dear,' -said the lady; 'come in, and let me give -you a glass of wine—it will do you good.' -</p> - -<p> -Mary thought of Lady Dunkeld, with -whom she had last seen this lady, and, -pausing, muttered her thanks, and accepted -the invitation, but hesitatingly. -</p> - -<p> -Little could she foresee that her whole -future life hinged—if we may use the -old parliamentary expression—upon that -chance meeting with Mrs. Deroubigne! -</p> - -<p> -The latter would not, we may be assured—for -she was very aristocratic in her -tastes and proclivities—have noticed an -ordinary 'person,' young or old, employed -to furnish music for any dance she had -been at; but there was something so -sweet and pathetic, as stated, in Mary's -face and manner—more than all, something -so perfectly ladylike in her bearing, -that Mrs. Deroubigne felt attracted towards her. -</p> - -<p> -Mary did not get the proffered wine a -moment too late; so much was she -overcome, mentally and bodily, by the bitter -mortification to which she had that day -been subjected, that the stately drawing-room -in which she found herself seemed -to be whirling round her. -</p> - -<p> -'As you know my name, my dear,' said -Mrs. Deroubigne, 'may I inquire yours?' -</p> - -<p> -'Mary Wellwood.' -</p> - -<p> -The lady's colour changed a little. -</p> - -<p> -'Wellwood?' she repeated; 'that name -was very familiar to me once. I knew a -captain—latterly he was colonel—Wellwood, -who left the Army, and went to -reside near Invermay in Scotland. Perhaps -he was a relation?' -</p> - -<p> -'He was my dear father,' replied Mary, -in a broken voice. -</p> - -<p> -'Indeed—your father! He was my dearest friend.' -</p> - -<p> -How very dear he had been to her once, -the old lady did not say then; but thereby -hung a tale! -</p> - -<p> -'Your face seemed strangely familiar to -me,' she said, while regarding Mary with -tender interest, and patting her hand as -she held it between her two. 'Your father -is dead?' -</p> - -<p> -'And mamma too, otherwise I might not -have been reduced to accept the -occupation in which you found me.' -</p> - -<p> -'This is sad—very sad!' said -Mrs. Deroubigne, her eyes suffusing as she -spoke. 'Your father, I repeat, was the -dearest friend of my girlhood—how long, -long it seems ago now—my dear girl, -I might have been your mother, and for -his sake I should like to act as one to -you now.' -</p> - -<p> -Mary's heart went forth to the speaker, -and then she thought of Ellinor. The -words of Mrs. Deroubigne came as a kind -of revelation to her; she had heard a -rumour of some old and early love affair -of her father's, which had led to the bitter -family quarrel referred to in the first -chapters of our story. -</p> - -<p> -'And you knew mamma?' asked Mary, -wistfully. -</p> - -<p> -'Well, indeed; she was the queen of -our regiment and the belle of every town -where it was quartered. I can say so -now, when I am old and widowed.' -</p> - -<p> -'Ellinor is thought very like her.' -</p> - -<p> -'Who is Ellinor?' -</p> - -<p> -'My only sister.' -</p> - -<p> -'If so, she must be very handsome. -And are there only you two left in the -world?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes,' replied Mary; and little by little -Mrs. Deroubigne, with growing commiseration, -elicited from her some information -about herself and sister—their plans and -hopes in coming to London; and on -hearing them she muttered something about -her own 'two little girls,' as if comparingly, -and shook her head sorrowfully. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Deroubigne was evidently a very -charming woman, who had seen much of -the world, and as a friend and companion -was clever and delightful. After a little -pause, she said, suddenly, -</p> - -<p> -'Of course you know your cousin, Captain -Wellwood, of the Scots Guards?' -</p> - -<p> -'Only by name, and an unfortunate reputation.' -</p> - -<p> -'Oh, I forgot—there was a family -quarrel. He is one of my dearest -friends—Leslie Wellwood Colville, as he calls -himself now.' -</p> - -<p> -'Wellwood—Colville!' said Mary, inquiringly. -'I beg your pardon, Mrs. Deroubigne, -but are there <i>two</i> officers of that -name in the Scots Guards?' -</p> - -<p> -'No, only one—Wellwood, who added -Colville to his name as successor to a large -property—your cousin, in fact—and the -peerage he claims, Lord Colville of Ochiltree.' -</p> - -<p> -A light seemed to break on Mary; she -knew not what to think; she had no voice -to reply. She felt that she changed -colour, while a sudden dryness came over her -lips and tongue. -</p> - -<p> -She heard the door-bell ring, and knew -that Mrs. Deroubigne was speaking again, -yet scarcely understood what she said. -</p> - -<p> -'He starts for India in a day or two, -and is to lunch with me this afternoon. -To meet you—a cousin so charming—will -be quite a little surprise for him; and here -he comes!' she added, as the door was -opened, and Colville—the identical Colville -of Birkwoodbrae—was ushered in! -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap09"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER IX. -<br /><br /> -WAS IT NOT A DREAM? -</h3> - -<p> -He came forward through the long -drawing-room with his usual easy bearing, his -head well set up, his military air, and -calm, unflinching eyes, which dilated on -seeing Mary Wellwood, and then he -paused. -</p> - -<p> -For fully a minute there was dead -silence—the silence of dumb bewilderment, -and Mary felt how loudly and painfully -her heart was beating; while to both -Colville and Mrs. Deroubigne it was apparent -how much she was agitated, thereby -involving a secret which the latter was yet -to learn. -</p> - -<p> -Mary had felt that she had cause to be -indignant and to feign indifference. As -the lover who had trifled with her, as she -thought, and gone to the very verge of a -declaration or proposal, and then paused, -and he—the obnoxious cousin, the heir of -entail, one and the same person—stood -before her, in her eyes of deep violet blue -there came for a brief space the light of a -sudden determination, with something of -a horrified stare; but ere Mrs. Deroubigne -could approach an explanation or -introduction, Colville sprang towards the pale -and trembling girl, and took both her -hands within his own. -</p> - -<p> -'Mary—Mary Wellwood!' he exclaimed, -in a voice full of passion and pathos; 'you -here!—and do we meet again after all? -What mystery is this?' -</p> - -<p> -'Probably a portion of that which seems -to have involved all your actions of late,' -replied Mary, with the slightest <i>soupçon</i> of -hauteur in her manner, while with difficulty -restraining her tears. -</p> - -<p> -'But are you not glad to see me again—you -whom I loved, and love with all my -heart?' -</p> - -<p> -'Captain Colville,' said Mary, attempting, -but in vain, to withdraw her hands, -'this painful and degrading mode of -treating me must not to be resumed!' -</p> - -<p> -'Painful and degrading? Mary, you -know that I love you.' -</p> - -<p> -'You never told me so. I wish I had -never seen you, or that I were dead!' -exclaimed Mary, a little incoherently, while -averting her face, and feeling her -determination giving way. -</p> - -<p> -'Never told you so—but you knew; and -we were interrupted when we parted last; -and then I met with that accident, the -wound in my right hand, which prevented -me from writing or going to Birkwoodbrae -in time to prevent you and Ellinor from -vanishing, without trace, as you did.' -</p> - -<p> -By this time she had wrenched her -hands away, and, thinking with alarm and -dismay of how Mrs. Deroubigne might -view this singular scene, she covered her -face with them. -</p> - -<p> -'Captain Colville!' she exclaimed, with -a tone of expostulation, as he gently pulled -them down, while triumph and joy sparkled -in his eyes. -</p> - -<p> -'Now, don't look vexed with me any -more,' said he, in a tone of tender -entreaty, while kissing her hands. 'My dear, -dear cousin—dearer than all the world -to me,' he added, as the mingled expression -of indignation, perplexity, and doubt -passed out of her sweet, pale face; 'let me -explain all, and tell you how I love you!' -</p> - -<p> -Mary was so shaken by all she had -lately undergone that she could only weep -now; thus for a moment or two she -yielded to him; he pressed her to his -heart, and covered her eyes and lips with -fast-falling kisses, forgetful of the -presence of Mrs. Deroubigne, who looked -laughingly on. The good old lady seemed -to like the romance of the situation, and -of the episode she had so unwittingly -brought about. -</p> - -<p> -'And how is Ellinor?' he asked, as Mary -drew blushingly back towards their hostess. -</p> - -<p> -'Far from well. Of late she has suffered -much——' -</p> - -<p> -'Through my folly?' -</p> - -<p> -'And other matters too.' -</p> - -<p> -Mary felt her poor little head in a whirl, -with some difficulty recognising the whole -situation. -</p> - -<p> -So the Colville she had learned to love -and her cousin Wellwood were one and -the same person! Thus, much which had -puzzled her on many occasions in the -bearing of Dr. Wodrow was accounted for -now. They had been in the plot together. -Many things that had seemed perplexing -and strange were now clear as day. She -recalled the initials, and the mystery he -made about the W that stood for the -middle name, and remembered that she -had seen the Wellwood crest—a demi-lion—on -his signet ring; nay, it was on it -now! She recalled, with some shame and -bewilderment, all her sharp and antagonistic -utterances about him and his father, -and she cast down her long dark lashes as -these things came to memory. -</p> - -<p> -And so it was of himself he had spoken, -and to himself he had referred, as having -been the worse for wine in the cantonments -at Lahore; himself he had referred -to as being 'not a half bad fellow,' and -being wounded in action with the hill -tribes; himself on whose supposed coldness -and selfishness he heard her descant; -and it was regard for her as a beautiful -and friendless girl, with the charming tie -of cousinship hitherto unknown, that had -inspired him as he stood with her side by -side at her parents' grave! -</p> - -<p> -'I knew not what love really was till I -knew you, Mary,' said he, caressing her -again. 'In the world I live and move in, -I never thought it would touch me as it -did, for there money seeks money or rank. -Out of novels and plays, I doubted its -existence; but I have learned the sweet -lesson at last, and you—the dear cousin -who loathed my very name—were my -preceptor, Mary!' -</p> - -<p> -'But why—oh, why all this mystery—this -concealment of your real position, -name, and relationship?' -</p> - -<p> -'Can you ask me, after what I have -said? I wanted to know you thoroughly, -after all Dr. Wodrow had told me about -you and Ellinor. I then wanted you to -love me, not as the owner of a landed -estate—not as a lounging Guardsman—not -for the pretty woods of Birkwoodbrae, -that I could perhaps give to you, and -would have done so had they not been -entailed; but, like the hero of a romance, -Mary, for myself alone.' -</p> - -<p> -'And now to lunch, dears,' said -Mrs. Deroubigne, as she laughingly kissed -Mary. 'I am tired of playing the part of -Gooseberry.' -</p> - -<p> -How much they had to talk about, to -describe, to explain to each other, out of -all the cross-purposes, confusion, and pain -that had arisen from her cousin's scheme, -the little romance he had concocted, and -the end of which he had not foreseen; -while, worse than all, but for the doctrine -of chances, they might never have met -again! -</p> - -<p> -He heard with astonishment of the two -episodes of Lady Dunkeld's dance and -Westminster Abbey. -</p> - -<p> -'To think that I should be so near you, -and have no consciousness of your -presence!' he exclaimed. 'Where were my -eyes—where was my heart? My poor -little Mary, had you only thought of -looking in the Army List, you would there -have seen that your wicked cousin and -Leslie Colville were one and the same -man!' -</p> - -<p> -The astonishment of the latter, on -hearing of the recent cruel conduct of Lady -Dunkeld and her daughter, was only -equalled by his just indignation. -</p> - -<p> -'Oh, for the rarity of Christian charity!' -he exclaimed. -</p> - -<p> -'I can forgive them <i>now</i>,' said Mary, in -a tremulous voice, and with a swift, bright -glance at Leslie Colville. -</p> - -<p> -'I cannot,' said he; 'forgiveness is -indifference, or nearly so, but no one can -quite forgive a wrong like this. But I -see the origin of this hostility to one who -was helpless against it. When I think -how—as you know, my dear Mrs. Deroubigne—how -that half-French brat, Blanche -Galloway, in her flirty, Continental way, -has sung to me, played at me, talked -to me, and made Å“illades, I am disgusted.' -</p> - -<p> -'Come now, Captain Colville,' said -Mrs. Deroubigne, 'that is scarcely fair; did you -not encourage her a little <i>Ă la soldat</i>?' -</p> - -<p> -'Not at all! She was ever admiring -the rose or flower I had in my button-hole, -and when I begged her acceptance thereof, -it duly figured in her bosom or hair afterwards, -while she flattered herself, no doubt, -in the depths of her French imaginings—but -I shall teach these Dunkelds a sharp -lesson ere I go.' -</p> - -<p> -'Now that you talk of it—and now -especially—I do not see why you should -go to the East at all,' said Mrs. Deroubigne, -while Mary grew paler than before, -and felt as if roused from a startling -dream. -</p> - -<p> -'True, true, but needs must now. In -sorrow for the loss of Mary, I volunteered -for special service abroad; and so I find -her but to lose her again,' exclaimed -Colville. -</p> - -<p> -'Special service!' she asked, in a strange -voice. 'What is that?' -</p> - -<p> -'It means detached for staff work where—where -operations are in progress,' said -he, evasively. -</p> - -<p> -'Speak to the point, Captain Colville,' -said Mrs. Deroubigne. 'You go to the -north-west frontier of India.' -</p> - -<p> -'India!' repeated Mary, with whitening -lips. 'Has life so little joy for you?' -</p> - -<p> -'It had but little till within this hour, -dearest Mary.' -</p> - -<p> -'Can you not withdraw your application?' -said Mrs. Deroubigne. -</p> - -<p> -'As a soldier's widow, you should know -that, unless overtaken by illness, I could -not do so with honour.' -</p> - -<p> -'You are right. How unfortunate it is!' -</p> - -<p> -'So, my darling and I have met but to -part again.' -</p> - -<p> -Mary heard all this with more dismay -than she dared exhibit just then, or trust -herself to speak about, and it was with a -mingled sense of joy she found herself -pledged, before Mrs. Deroubigne, to be -Leslie Colville's future wife, and saw -flashing on her engaged finger the same -diamond ring he had brought for her acceptance -on that eventful day at Birkwoodbrae, -for then, as now, Mary Wellwood was the -one woman in the world for him. 'Whether -our passion be prudent,' says Hawley -Smart, 'whether the woman we have asked -to tread life's path with us is likely to be -approved in our maturer years, we reck -little. She is the one woman, so far as we -are concerned just now, and has she not -pledged herself to be so always?' -</p> - -<p> -But no doubt of himself or of his choice -came into the heart of Colville. She had -already been tried like gold in the fire; -and he was yet to be further tried to an -extent he little expected. -</p> - -<p> -When the time came to depart, Mary -left Mrs. Deroubigne with a heart too full -of regard and gratitude for utterance in -words. She could only sob on her ample -and motherly breast; and Colville, when -conveying her in a cab to that home which -he had resolved she must change for one -more suitable, heard of its locality with -sorrow and dismay, and with emotions -very different from those of Sir Redmond -Sleath when he obtained the address of -Ellinor. -</p> - -<p> -'Paddington—Paddington Green! My -Heaven, how came you to select such a -place?' he exclaimed. -</p> - -<p> -'Through the guard of the train. We -asked his advice,' replied Mary, simply. -</p> - -<p> -'This is intolerable! Such a hole—such -a den—such a locality! You must quit it -without delay,' he added, as the only homes -he knew were in Mayfair, Tyburnia, and -Belgravia: and though his heart was full -of joy the first genuine laugh that escaped -him was when he heard the address he was -to inquire for. -</p> - -<p> -'Mrs. Seraphina Fubsby! Good heavens, -where did she pick up such a name?' -</p> - -<p> -Mary had no time then to inform him -that the good woman was fully entitled to -another. She was too full of her own -thoughts, and, though the fog of that -horrible London November day had deepened -and darkened all around her, in her -heart there seemed sunshine now! -</p> - -<p> -Could it be that so much had passed—that -events to her so momentous had -occurred—since she had turned away in -gloom and almost in despair from the -great door of that house near Portman -Square, afraid even to tell and crush poor -Ellinor's heart by tidings of the new -misfortune that had overtaken them? -</p> - -<p> -Was it not all a dream, from which she -would awake to a world of bitterness? -</p> - -<p> -But, no. Leslie Colville's betrothal ring -was on her finger; his strong, firm and -loving hand was clasping hers; and all -about her was truth and reality. -</p> - -<p> -'What tidings I bring, dear Ellinor!' she -thought, as the cab stopped at the door of -their humble abode, and Leslie Colville -sprang out to assist her to alight as they -heard Jack's bark of welcome. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap10"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER X. -<br /><br /> -GOING TO THE FRONT. -</h3> - -<p> -So they were solemnly engaged at last, -plighted to each other, these cousins, and -to be married; but when? For Colville -had now to face the perils of the war in -Afghanistan ere that event could come to -pass. -</p> - -<p> -He was going straight and almost -immediately to the scene of strife among the -savage passes there, and for Mary to -accompany him was impossible just then, -and as Ellinor could not be left alone she -would have to go too; so the idea was not -considered for a moment. -</p> - -<p> -They could but wait the future in trust -and hope, and amid the brief joy of the -present time was a dread of that future, -for he who was departing might never—<i>return</i>. -</p> - -<p> -'All is unchanged at Birkwoodbrae, and -old Elspat is there in charge, dearest Mary,' -said Colville, 'so you and Ellinor may -return if you will, and live there till I come -back from the East.' -</p> - -<p> -The temptation to do so was strong—the -crave to be at home again, to see the -faces of old friends, the dear familiar hills, -the silver birks, and the fast-flowing May. -But though understanding each other fully -as the cousins did now, and though their -positions as such were changed and -strengthened, Mary in her independence -of spirit and character thought she would -prefer to struggle on as they were, till he -could take her there as his wife. -</p> - -<p> -For her kindness to the sisters, Colville -slipped quietly into Mrs. Fubsby's hand a -cheque for an ample sum, saying, after he -had heard her story, that it would help -her in her plans to prove herself Lady -Sleath and punish her wrong-doer. -</p> - -<p> -This was on the following day, when -Mary told him the simple story of all their -recent troubles, while he gazed down upon -her with eyes full of truth and tenderness, -and her heart was beating tumultuously -with its new-found joy. She knew that -he loved her now, he whom she felt inclined -to adore. -</p> - -<p> -Yet the future seemed to loom darkly -before her. There was this terrible -campaign in Afghanistan, with its certain and -far separation, its remote and fearful -contingencies to be faced, endured, and -undergone; so Fate seemed still to be cruel to her. -</p> - -<p> -When, in broken accents and with -mingled emotions of anger and shame, -while her head reclined upon his breast, -Mary told Colville of Sir Redmond Sleath's -systematic attempts, though secretly -married, to lure away her unsuspecting sister -Ellinor, great was the wrath and fury of -her lover. -</p> - -<p> -Whip in hand, he would assuredly have -taken condign vengeance on the back and -limbs of the parvenu baronet, but that the -latter had to quit London—even England—just -about that time, in some haste and -in dire disgrace. -</p> - -<p> -At his club he had gambled deeply with -Lord Dunkeld and others, from whom he -had won great sums of money—more than -the peer especially could well afford—and -before it was discovered that his wonderful -success was due to the use of <i>marked</i> cards. -</p> - -<p> -During a game of <i>quinze</i> one of the -players—a brother-Guardsman of Colville's—noticed -that several of the cards were in -some way indicated, and, after a careful -examination, it was found that all the fives -and the court cards were marked by the -prick of a needle at the corners, and some -in the centre, too. -</p> - -<p> -These marks, though almost invisible to -the eye, were recognisable by the sense of -touch. A storm of indignation burst over -Sleath. He was flung down the club -stairs, had to eat very 'humble pie' indeed, -and was now gone to the Continent, none -knew or cared precisely where, with a -congenial friend, Mr. Adolphus Dewsnap -(of whom more anon); so whatever legal -plans Mrs. Fubsby meant to adopt to -relinquish her maiden name and insist upon -the adoption of that of Lady Sleath, were -partially frustrated or delayed for a time -by the baronet's disappearance. -</p> - -<p> -On the very day after the engagement, -Mary and Ellinor bade her farewell—it -could scarcely be said with regret, though -the good woman shed abundance of tears -on the occasion. -</p> - -<p> -Colville, who resented as absurd and -<i>infra dig.</i> Mary's desire of maintaining -herself and adding to the slender -patrimony their father had left them, brought -an invitation from Mrs. Deroubigne, in -whose care they were to be left for the -future—certainly for a time at least; and -she received them with open arms, and a -welcome all the more warm that she was -just then alone, her two little daughters -being absent at a boarding establishment; -and, amid the new comforts and ease that -surrounded her in Grosvenor Square, Mary -forgot for a time the old wish of her heart -to go 'home,' as she ever considered -Birkwoodbrae her home. -</p> - -<p> -At the commencement of the present -century, Malcolm says 'that this square is -the very <i>focus</i> of feudal grandeur, religion, -fashion, taste, and hospitality, and that -the novel-reader must be intimately -acquainted with the description of residents -within it, when the words "Grosvenor -Square" are to be found in almost every -work of that species written in the compass -of fifty years past.' -</p> - -<p> -Before the house of Mrs. Deroubigne -were still to be seen iron link-extinguishers, -a remnant of the past, when links were -carried before carriages at the West-End -till 1807. Though old-fashioned, the -mansion was a lofty and stately one; and -Mary, when she gazed upon the tall -windows on the spacious square and the -landscape garden in the centre, with its -old trees planted by Kent, wondered if she -was the same Mary Wellwood who for so -many weeks past had contemplated the -frowsy view from the windows of her late -abode. -</p> - -<p> -In her regard for Colville, and inspired -no doubt by memories of the past and the -dead, Mrs. Deroubigne, to do her justice, -was unwavering in her kindness and -hospitality to her new friends; and times -there were when she actually, amid her -dream-thoughts, seemed to forget her own -married life, and her heart yearned, warmly -and strangely, to the two orphan girls of -her old lover—the girls who might, she -averred laughingly, have been her own -daughters, had fate so arranged it. -</p> - -<p> -'Your face, Mary, always reminds me -of your father,' she would say, taking the -girl's dimpled cheeks caressingly between -her hands; 'but yours, Ellinor, suggests -to me more of your mamma—you have -the same dreamy hazel eyes. And you are -romantic, no doubt?' she added, with a -fond smile. -</p> - -<p> -'Perhaps; every girl has, it is said, at -least one romance in the course of her -life,' said Ellinor, thinking of poor Robert -Wodrow and the wretched Sleath. -</p> - -<p> -'And, certainly, I have had mine!' said -Mrs. Deroubigne, kissing Mary, while old -memories floated through her mind, known -and clear to herself alone. -</p> - -<p> -Mary thought that though it might be -delightful in summer to visit Birkwoodbrae, -with Mrs. Deroubigne as a chaperone, -she would never go back to it as a -home on sufferance—on that she was -resolved; and until she was a wedded wife -she could but wait in hope, love, and -confidence; besides, Mrs. Deroubigne, at -Colville's suggestion, had a plan for a little -tour on the Continent to occupy some of -the time of his absence, and to make the -sisters forget some of the mortifications -they had recently undergone. -</p> - -<p> -Though the temporary loss of Mary -and the mystery involving her movements—her -very fate after leaving Perthshire—had -so tortured the heart of Colville that -he had resolved to seek for change amid -the stirring scenes of Eastern war once -more, he felt that he could now leave -England with emotions of comparative -happiness and content. -</p> - -<p> -He knew that she was in safety—surrounded -by every comfort, even by splendour—and -had been saved from much he -could not quite foresee, by the slender but -blessed chance of her meeting with -Mrs. Deroubigne! -</p> - -<p> -To him and Mary the few meetings -before his departure seemed heaven-sent—though -a sorrowful separation was at -hand—the happiest of all their past -existence. -</p> - -<p> -Neither seemed to question, as yet, how -they would feel or could exist during the -months—perhaps the more than year—of -separation that had to come. -</p> - -<p> -Never, never would she forget the time -when he placed the engagement-ring upon -her engaged finger, and when their eyes -met in one long and deep glance—a -glance that, though no word was uttered, -proved the silent compact of his avowed -and her accepted love. -</p> - -<p> -So the fatal day came inexorably at last; -after a farewell dinner to him at the -Guards' Club in Pall Mall. -</p> - -<p> -'Good-bye, dear girls,' said he, cheerily; -'good-bye, love Mary—another kiss and -another. I'll bring you back such wonderful -things from India—tiger-skins, and -tiger claws set in gold; Delhi jewellery -from Chandney Chowk; ivory carvings, -and I know not what more,' he added, and, -in spite of himself, strove to be cheerful; -'and when I do come back, Mary, you will -be my own darling little wife till death -parts us.' -</p> - -<p> -So the hour, the supreme moment, had -come at last, and Leslie Colville was gone! -</p> - -<p> -His letters were Mary's only solace after -that; long letters full of loving and -passionate expression, to be read and re-read -again; from Suez, burning Aden, and -beautiful Bombay; they came regularly, -but became fewer and further between as -he proceeded up country by railway, and -his last, before they left London for the -Continent, informed her that he had been -appointed to the staff at Jellalabad, where -Sir Samuel Browne was concentrating his -forces prior to an advance on Cabul. Thus -he would soon be going to the Front. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap11"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XI. -<br /><br /> -AT JELLALABAD. -</h3> - -<p> -'Well, Colville, how do you like India -from what you have seen of it?' asked -Colonel Spatterdash, as he sat smoking in -his shirt and pyjamas, for, though the -month was March, the solar heat was -already considerable in that part of -Afghanistan, and quite disagreeable by eight -in the morning. -</p> - -<p> -'I don't like it at all,' replied Colville; -'besides, I have been in India before, and -you forget, colonel, that this is not India, -but rather beyond it.' -</p> - -<p> -'True, I am not likely to forget that, -when the rocks are bristling with Afghan -juzails! But, if you don't like it, what -the deuce brought you out now?' -</p> - -<p> -'To have a new sensation, to see a little -more of the world again,' said Colville, -evasively, as he was not disposed to tell -his thoughtless listeners—some four or -five officers—assembled for tiffin (<i>i.e.</i>, -lunch) about his romance, and the -temporary loss of Mary Wellwood. -</p> - -<p> -'A new sensation!' exclaimed Algy -Redhaven, a handsome young captain of the -10th Hussars, who had just entered the -bungalow; 'you are likely to have it soon -enough. Have you heard the news that -has just come in from the front, colonel?' -he added to Spatterdash. -</p> - -<p> -'No—what the devil is up?' growled -the old field-officer. -</p> - -<p> -'Fresh complications are likely at -Cabul—the Ameer Shere Ali has gone to visit -the Russian general at Tashkend.' -</p> - -<p> -'Whew!' whistled old Spatterdash; -'that will likely precipitate matters. I -always thought the invasion of British -India by Russia would be as practicable a -few years hence as that of Italy by Austria, -and now, by Jove, we seem close upon it.' -</p> - -<p> -And since the date we write of the -Russians have pushed on to Merv in -Turkomania! -</p> - -<p> -The group of officers who were invited -to the colonel's table were all happy and -heedless young fellows belonging to Sir -Samuel Browne's column, and high in -anticipation of a protracted 'shindy' with -the Afghans, as a force was being -concentrated at Jellalabad. -</p> - -<p> -A couple were on the staff, like Colville; -one—Redhaven—belonged to the Royal -Hussars; two others to a native infantry -regiment; all were somewhat airily attired, -and, till tiffin made its appearance, all -were smoking cheroots so industriously -that clouds of their pale smoke curled -among the rough rafters and straw roof -of the bungalow. -</p> - -<p> -Jellalabad, where the fortune of war -had then cast them, the winter residence -of the Cabul monarchs since the consolidation -of the Dooranee Empire, is situated -in an extensive valley of considerable -beauty and fertility, eight-and-twenty miles -long by about four broad, and the town -had before this been rendered memorable -by the heroic stand which Sir Robert Sale, -with a handful of British soldiers, made -in it against the Afghans some forty years -before. -</p> - -<p> -In importance it was originally only -next to Cabul and Candahar, but its -fortifications had been completely destroyed -by General Pollock after the war that -ended in 1842. Like all Afghan cities of -note, it had its Balla Hissar, half palace -and half citadel, with a poor population -estimated at from three to ten thousand. -</p> - -<p> -Many streams fertilise its valley—namely, -the Cabul River, which flows near the -walls; the Surkh Rud, or Red River, and -the Kara Su, or Black River, while around -it are numerous castles, and picturesque -villages, and groups of forest trees, though -an arid desert spreads in its immediate vicinity. -</p> - -<p> -Nearly four months had elapsed since -Leslie Colville had parted from Mary -Wellwood, and already as many ages -seemed to have elapsed since the few brief -days of reunion they had spent together -at Grosvenor Square; and now he knew -that many more months must elapse, must -be faced and endured, ere he could hope to -turn his steps towards Europe; and even -while sitting there, among these bantering -and somewhat noisy fellows, he looked -around him as one in a dream, whose -thoughts were far away, while Mary's soft, -sad features came vividly before him in -memory and in their beauty, though the -latter, as some old poet says, -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Is in no face, but in the lover's mind.'<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -'How silent you are, Colville!' exclaimed -old Spatterdash, relinquishing the -mouthpiece of his hookah for a moment. 'Gad, -I believe the fellow's in love.' -</p> - -<p> -So full were his thoughts of Mary at -that precise moment that he almost -coloured as if they had been read by the -colonel, who continued, in a tone of banter, -</p> - -<p> -'With you, I suppose, it is, -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - "——to bid me not to love<br /> - Is to forbid my pulse to move,<br /> - My beard to grow, my ears to prick up;<br /> - Or, when I'm in the mood, to hiccup."<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -Is it so? Well, anyway, stick to the <i>brandy -pawnee</i> till tiffin comes.' -</p> - -<p> -Again the old familiar sound of the -cantonment <i>ghurries</i>, or gong-bells, as they -were clanged for the change of sentries, -was in his ear, and the view from the open -windows of the bungalow was strange and -striking. -</p> - -<p> -Far away above the misty horizon rose -amid the clouds—and cloudlike themselves, -so bright and varied were their tints—the -majestic mountains that tower between -the shallow valley of Jellalabad and the -ramparts of Cabul, and chief of them is -the stupendous Suffaidh Koh, fourteen -thousand feet in height, then covered with -dazzling white snow; and if wondrously -beautiful by day, it was perhaps still more -so by night, when the full moon lit up its -chasms and peaks with its Asiatic splendour. -</p> - -<p> -In the immediate foreground, just before -the windows of the bungalow, a curious -scene—one illustrative of the distant -region and the manners of our Indian -fellow-subjects—was in progress. -</p> - -<p> -The <i>Poojah</i> of a battalion of H.M. Native -Infantry, a Hindoo regiment, was being -celebrated towards evening. -</p> - -<p> -The battalion, in full marching order, -with its colours, was drawn up in a circle. -At each cardinal point of the compass was -a small clod of earth, with barley and rice -on it; and in the centre were the attendant -Brahmins with a beautiful young goat, -which had been sprinkled with pure water, -barley, and rice. Then the sacrificer drew -a huge Ghoorkali knife, and, after muttering -some prayers, by one trenchant slash -severed the head of the goat from its body. -At the moment of immolation twelve guns -boomed through the air and drums were -beaten, after which the battalion was -wheeled back into line, and marched by -fours into its lines, with band playing and -colours flying. -</p> - -<p> -Colonel Spatterdash, Colville's host, was -a thorough Indian officer of the old school, -who had broiled for so many years in -Bengal that he had lost much of his -European identity, all memory of home nearly, -and religion too, and had become so -bronzed that evil-disposed fellows used to -hint—but not in his presence—that he had -'a dash of the tar-brush in him—was -fourteen annas to the rupee,' and so forth. -</p> - -<p> -The wags of the station at Chutneypore -declared that he wore a gold bangle -given to him by the orange-visaged Rani -of that place, who liked him as 'a wicked -old man,' that squeezed her brown paws -when he assisted her into the silk-curtained -howdah of her great tusker elephant, which -had carried 'Colonel Wellesley's' baggage -at the battle of Assaye. -</p> - -<p> -He was full of old Indian memories of -the Rangoon Rangers and Bhurtpore -Bulldogs, as he had heard of them when he -came out from Addiscombe a cadet and -griffin; and had many a story to tell of -the pre-railway times, when, if not -marching, people travelled by <i>dĂ¢k</i>, night and -day, in palanquins; when the old Bengal -colonel was a father to his regiment, the -guide of his subalterns, and was never so -happy as when he had a dozen or so at his -table, all eager for <i>Kowab</i>, fresh eggs, with -Phillibut rice, kedgere, &c., and <i>Bhola</i> in -plenty. -</p> - -<p> -He was a captain when the mutiny -occurred; and its horrors, with the dismay -that his beloved Sepoys—the <i>Spatterdash-ka-Pultan</i>, -so-called from his father—should -prove untrue to their salt, nearly broke his -heart; and he thought the end of the -world had come when they flung him down -a well at Gungawallah; but he was hard -to kill. A banyan-tree that grew half way -down broke his fall, and to that he clung -till rescued by some Highlanders, after -which he solaced himself mightily by -blowing whole batches of 'pandies' from -his guns. -</p> - -<p> -And now tiffin came, curried chickens, -rice, green chillis, mutton and chutney, -&c., &c., with plenty of wine and brandy, -all laid out by his faithful old Kitmutgar, -wearing an enormous white turban. -</p> - -<p> -'Anything,' said the colonel, 'is better -than bitter beer that has been boiling on -the dusty road between Peshawur and -Jellalabad, till the cask hoops grow hot in -the sun.' -</p> - -<p> -So he took a huge beaker of <i>brandy -pawnee</i>, as he reclined in the cane -easy-chair in his well tattied bungalow, with -punkah wallahs crouching in the verandah -outside, and smoked his hookah, for he -preferred such a residence to a double-poled -tent or a tumble-down brick house -in that city of earthquakes, till the troops -marched. -</p> - -<p> -'I knew your uncle, Wellwood, thoroughly,' -said the colonel to Colville. 'He -and I were great chums, and I once saw -him do a plucky thing—a very plucky -thing, by Jove!—when we were giving a -fellow a tight flogging under fire.' -</p> - -<p> -'A flogging under fire—that was -remarkable, surely?' -</p> - -<p> -'Not so in those days; we were never -squeamish about anything then.' -</p> - -<p> -'And this plucky thing?' said Redhaven, -the hussar. -</p> - -<p> -'Convinced me that Wellwood was -pretty reckless of life. He had been -soured by some disappointment in love, -we heard—the idea of such a thing!' -</p> - -<p> -And, while old Splatterdash laughed a -little contemptuously at the thought of a -tender passion, Colville, remembering the -secret episode of Mrs. Deroubigne's life, -listened with some interest. -</p> - -<p> -'It came about in this way, you see,' -said the colonel, after taking a long pull -at his hookah. 'After we advanced upon -Jhansi under Sir Hugh Rose to crush the -rebellious Sepoys who held the place -(which was a town and fortress of the -Mahrattas of old), we bombarded it -heavily for four days, but not without -resistance, for the shattered remains of the -Gwalior contingent, augmented to twenty-five -thousand bayonets and sabres, and -eighteen pieces of cannon from Kalpee, -came marching along the right bank of -the Jumna, hoping to raise the siege, d—n -them! -</p> - -<p> -'In that, however, the Pandies were -disappointed. During the bombardment, -when we were pitching shot and shell into -each other, a great thirteen-inch bomb -from an old mortar happened to fall close -by where the soldier of a European -regiment was tied up to "the halberts," as we -still called the triangles, to receive a -hundred and fifty lashes for insubordination -when mad with drink and heat. The -sudden appearance of this great missile, -with its fuse burning and hissing, caused -such confusion and consternation that the -companies, formed in hollow square, fell -back on all sides, even breaking their -ranks, for none could composedly await -such an explosion under their noses. -</p> - -<p> -'Instead of yielding to this natural -impulse, Wellwood took from his pocket a -penknife, and, walking up to the helpless -and terrified creature who was bound to -the triangles, he cut the cords that bound -his wrists and ankles, setting him free, -and both had barely time to retire a little -way and throw themselves flat on the -ground, when the great shell burst, and -a hurricane of iron swept over them and -all around. Thus did he save this poor -fellow, who must inevitably have perished -from his inability to save himself; and -Wellwood did more, for, in consideration -of the mental agony the man had undergone, -he remitted the remainder of the -punishment; and, by a curious coincidence, -the culprit perished a few days after in -the action of Roohea when saving the life -of Wellwood, whom some rebels were about -to bayonet as he lay wounded and helpless -on the ground.' -</p> - -<p> -'This will be an episode in her father's -life to tell Mary of when next I write to -her,' thought Colville. And now the -conversation drifted into the subject then -uppermost in the minds of all—the probability -of serious complications if Russian -intrigues proved successful at Cabul, and -none could expect them to be otherwise -when the Ameer Shere Ali had departed -openly to visit General Kauffmann at -Tashkend, in Central Asia, which place, -however, he was fated not to reach. -</p> - -<p> -The subject that caused our dispute -with him, and brought our troops to -Jellalabad and elsewhere upon his frontier, -was the dispute known then as the "Resident" -question, because he rather favoured -the Russians, and thus refused to have -any such British official at his court for -three reasons—firstly, the person of a -Briton would not be safe there; secondly, -that European officers might make -demands that would occasion quarrels; and -thirdly, that if Britain was represented, -Russia would expect to be represented -also. But it was known that he was in -close correspondence with General -Kauffman, and only feared that a British -Resident might, if present, throw some light -upon it; and in the end a convention was -signed, by which Russia bound herself to -give at least moral support to the existing -Afghan dynasty. -</p> - -<p> -An envoy sent by our government to -Cabul never reached it, being forced back -at a place called Ali Musjid. For this an -apology was demanded, and Afghanistan -was entered by a British army in three -columns that won several victories, and -the Ameer finding his case hopeless started -for Tashkend, but died on the way, and -was succeeded by his son, Yakoub Khan, -who eventually showed a disposition to -come to terms with us; but in this we are -a little anticipating the events of our -story, for, at the time Leslie Colville joined -the staff at Jellalabad, Sir Samuel Browne -was, as stated, collecting a force there, -while General Maude relieved his post -between that place and Dakka, and the -gallant Roberts, posted further forward at the -Peiwar Pass, was improving the difficult -mountain road between that place and -Cabul for the passage of guns and baggage. -</p> - -<p> -So thus it was that our troops were now -engaged in what was known as the second -Afghan War—to counteract Russian influences. -</p> - -<p> -As the evening advanced and darkness -closed in, some yells and oaths in Hindostanee -and Pushtoo were heard at a little -distance outside the hedge of the colonel's -compound, and Colville, who had been -looking from a window, now started to his feet. -</p> - -<p> -'I can't look on and permit that!' he -exclaimed. -</p> - -<p> -'Can't permit what?' asked Spatterdash, tartly. -</p> - -<p> -'A lot of fellows——' -</p> - -<p> -'Budmashes, no doubt, by the row they make.' -</p> - -<p> -'Ill-using one man; and now, as it is -time for me to go, colonel, I shall interfere -<i>en passant</i>.' -</p> - -<p> -'Don't think of it—don't bother!' -</p> - -<p> -'But they may kill him.' -</p> - -<p> -'What the devil does it matter? A -nigger less in the world won't be missed,' -growled Spatterdash, who had lost all -sympathy with the natives since the Mutiny. -</p> - -<p> -'Call the nearest guard—the picket—or -some chowkeydars,' said Redhaven and -others; 'but don't interfere in a row of -this kind.' -</p> - -<p> -Colville, however, buckled on his sword -and revolver, lit a fresh cheroot, laughingly -bowed himself out, and hurried away; for, -sooth to say, he was a little tired of old -Spatterdash, and as no one actually -thought he would interfere in a native row, -no one followed or accompanied him. -</p> - -<p> -'The inlying pickets have been doubled -to-night by order of the general,' said the -colonel. -</p> - -<p> -'Why?' asked some one. -</p> - -<p> -'Because rumour says that the Sirdir -Mahmoud Shah, a tearing Afghan devil, -has come to lead the Mohmunds against us.' -</p> - -<p> -'With what object?' asked Redhaven of -the Hussars. -</p> - -<p> -'A row, of course.' -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap12"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XII. -<br /><br /> -THE HADJI. -</h3> - -<p> -'The world is a small place, after all!' -thought Colville, as he left the Colonel's -bungalow behind him. 'Think of hearing -here that anecdote of dear Mary's father -from that old subadar! Well, well, "life," -as some one says, "is a perpetual enigma, -to which no theological system offers a -satisfactory solution—against the reefs of -which all philosophies break into foam and -empty bubbles." But here are more than -bubbles, by Jove! Now what is all this -deuced row about?' he added, drawing -his sword, on seeing before him the authors -of the noise he had heard, engaged still in -a wild and fierce <i>mĂªlĂ©e</i>. -</p> - -<p> -This was in a sequestered part of the -town, and near some of the ruins of houses -shaken down by the earthquakes some -forty years ago. One man was contending -single-handed against no less than -five, and in the clear starlight Colville -could see the flash of their gleaming eyes, -their set teeth, their dark and infuriated -faces. The man assaulted wore an Afghan -costume, a cloak, a kind of blouse with -loose sleeves, and on his head a <i>loonjee</i>. -The others had flowing garments and large -turbans, and were armed with heavily-loaded -clubs, against which the stranger -was defending himself with no small -dexterity with only a pilgrim's staff; for, by -his wallet, gourd, and beads, he was -evidently a hadji, who had become involved -in a quarrel with some Wahabis, who, it -seemed afterwards, had been mocking him -for praying at the tomb of a Santon, and -told him he should call on God, and on no -imaginary saint, on which, he had proceeded -at once to lay about him with his -pilgrim's staff. -</p> - -<p> -'To call a man a Wahabi,' says Sterndale, -'is, to nine-tenths of Englishmen in -India, to call him a fanatic, a rebel, a sort -of Mahometan fenian, one whom the police -should take under special surveillance, and -whose every action is open to suspicion.' -</p> - -<p> -Like the English Puritans, they—in -addition to deriding the intercession of -saints—despoiled the mosques of their -lamps and decorations, broke down all -shrines, prohibited music and dancing, and -smoking was denounced as a mortal sin; -and now those whom Colville found -himself opposed to would undoubtedly—but -for his sword and revolver—have made -short work of it with the unfortunate -hadji. -</p> - -<p> -He drove them back a few paces, and -the hadji, while panting for breath, and -streaming with blood from more than one -contused wound, continued to revile them -bitterly. -</p> - -<p> -'Wahabis—accursed Wahabis!' he -exclaimed, 'dare they speak to me? I am -a Soonee, not a dog! I am not a Shiah, -the follower of Ali, but an orthodox -Soonee, like my forefathers, blessed be -God and His Prophet! Wretches,' he -added, with all the ferocious rancour of -religion and race, 'your souls will yet -defile hell!' -</p> - -<p> -'Begone, and leave the man to go on -his way,' said Colville, authoritatively, as -he waved his sword, for he knew enough -of Arabic and Hindostanee to understand -what was said and the nature of the -brawl. -</p> - -<p> -'Dogs!' resumed the irate hadji, -encouraged by his presence and succour; -'know ye not that the time is coming -when the Wahabis shall be judged according -to their deserts, and each in passing a -dead man's grave shall say, "Would to -God that I lay there!"' -</p> - -<p> -'Dog of a Soonee, when will that time -come to pass?' asked one, jeeringly. -</p> - -<p> -'When the sun rises in the west,' -shrieked the hadji, frantic with rage; -'when the beast shall rise out of the earth -near Mecca; when a smoke shall cover the -earth, and the Mahdi shall come to everyone -and fill the earth with righteousness.' -</p> - -<p> -And much more to this effect did he -vow with singular force and fluency, for -the hadji was an Afghan, and, so far as -regards the external forms of their -religion, the Afghans are wonderfully devout, -and so much of their conversation, whatever -the subject, is so tinged with their -religion and the Koran that one would -imagine the whole people, from the Ameer -to the humblest camel-driver, were -engaged in holy reflections, and scarcely is -a sentence uttered by them without some -reference to the Deity. -</p> - -<p> -One of the Wahabis now seemed to lose -what little remains of sense or temper he -had left, and, uttering a savage yell, swung -aloft his ponderous <i>lohbunda</i> or staff, which -was heavily shod with iron—a weapon one -well-directed stroke from which would -have spattered the brains of the hadji on -the street—but Colville, quick as lightning, -warded off the blow with his sword, -in the process of which his right arm -tingled to the shoulder; and as at that -moment the tramp of a patrol from an -inlying picquet was heard approaching, -the brawlers took to flight, and Colville -was left face to face with the man whose -life he had saved. -</p> - -<p> -'Sahib, I have to thank you gratefully -for this prompt and courageous succour, -but for which these dogs would no doubt -have slain me,' said the pilgrim in English; -'as it is, they have handled me so roughly -that I am barely able to stand.' -</p> - -<p> -'You speak English very fluently,' said -Colville, with genuine surprise. 'How is -this?' -</p> - -<p> -'My uncle was a <i>muhafez dufter</i>, or -keeper of the records, in the office of the -district magistrate, near Peshawur, who -educated me to work in his office; but at -his death I went back to the hills and -became an Afghan soldier under Shere Ali.' -</p> - -<p> -'And now——' -</p> - -<p> -'I am a poor harmless hadji, Mahommed -Shah, seeking but to save his soul,' said -he, lowering his keen and glittering eyes, -as he looked steadily around him. 'In -saving me you have done a good action, -and what says the fourth chapter of the -Koran? "Verily, God will not wrong -anyone, even the weight of an ant, and, if -it be a good action, He will double it, and -recompense it in His sight with a great -and just reward." But these thrice -accursed Wahabis,' he added, grinding his -teeth with rage, and making thereby a -very unpleasant sound, 'may be swallowed -up by the earth as the accuser of Moses -was.' -</p> - -<p> -Colville looked around him warily. In -the dark, unlighted, and tortuous streets -of the city this poor man might easily be -overtaken and murdered by these fanatics, -if they were—as Colville did not doubt—still -lurking watchfully about, so he said, -</p> - -<p> -'Come with me to the Balla Hissar; I -am quartered there, and can keep you in -safety for the night; besides, your wounds -must be dressed, and in the morning I -would advise your instantly quitting Jellalabad.' -</p> - -<p> -'As-taffur-ullah! that will I, sahib; and -by the five keys of knowledge, I will never -forget your kindness.' -</p> - -<p> -The citadel was close by. There -Colville took his new acquaintance past the -sentries to the rooms assigned as his -quarters, quaint and lofty apartments with -marble floors, and walls covered with -beautiful arabesques, splendid but -comfortless, and, summoning the soldier who -acted as his servant, with lights, some -wine and bandages, he desired him to -bathe and bind up the wounds of the old -Afghan wanderer, who was on the point -of sinking, and would have done so, but -for some water which he took, dashed with -brandy, despite the precepts of the Koran. -</p> - -<p> -'You have had a narrow escape!' said -Colville, looking at some of his bruises. -</p> - -<p> -'It is perhaps useless to bind these wounds.' -</p> - -<p> -'Why?' -</p> - -<p> -'Because if a man is to die he will die.' -</p> - -<p> -'But if a man is ailing surely he may be cured?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes,' replied the hadji, 'through the Koran.' -</p> - -<p> -'Koran again!' thought Colville. 'You -mean by faith in it?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes; by writing therefrom some holy -sentences on paper, and drinking the water -wherein that paper has been washed clean.' -</p> - -<p> -'You have heard, I suppose, that the -Ameer has gone over to the Russians?' -said Colville to change the subject. -</p> - -<p> -'Yes, sahib,' replied the hadji, in whose -eyes a strange light now appeared, 'but -he is dying of mortal disease, and will -never reach Tashkend.' -</p> - -<p> -'Then Yakoub Khan will succeed.' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes; the man who has already aspired -to sit on a <i>musnud</i> (throne) is little likely -to content himself with a carpet, especially -if supported by the bayonets of the <i>Ghora -logue</i>. By the Prophet, no!' added the -hadji, referring to what was well known—that -Yakoub Khan had conspired against -his father, who, in consequence, had kept -him for years imprisoned in a dungeon -without light. -</p> - -<p> -The hadji seemed a genuine Afghan, -and considerably past middle-age. He -was tall, spare, and muscular, with -aquiline—almost Jewish—features; high cheek -bones, and strong, black, glittering eyes, -with an intensity and keenness in their -expression that reminded Colville of those -of a mountain eagle. He was fairer -complexioned than most of his people, among -whom even red hair is sometimes met with; -but his face had been cleft from temple to -chin by a tulwar stroke in some past battle -or brawl; and now the livid mark of that -terrible slash could be seen distinctly as -altering, and in some measure distorting, -features that were naturally very regular. -</p> - -<p> -After partaking of a little food of the -plainest kind, he performed the ablutions -enjoined by his faith, spread a white cloth -over his kneeling-carpet, and, turning his -face in the direction of Mecca, said his -<i>salat al Moghreb</i>, or evening prayer, while -Colville took himself off to the mess-room; -and when he returned the hadji was lying -on the verandah outside, fast asleep, and -cosily muffled up in his dark-coloured choga, -or camel-hair cloak. -</p> - -<p> -In the morning he had left the Bala -Hissar, and gone, none knew where, save -that he had been seen going towards Cabul -by the way of the Ali Musjid Pass. -</p> - -<p> -It never occurred to Leslie Colville, in -performing the acts of kindness he had -done to this stranger, whether there might -be peril or evil evolved from them in the -future; or whether the man was—as he -ultimately proved to be—a keen and -observant spy, come to watch and note the -strength, preparations, and object of Sir -Samuel Browne's column; and, poor -though the hadji looked, Colville's -servant—a more than usually sharp example of -Private Thomas Atkins—had found him -in the early morning reckoning over a -quantity of gold in his wallet, and one of -these which he dropped was found to be of -the last Russian mintage. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap13"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XIII. -<br /><br /> -A FIGHT WITH THE MOHMUNDS. -</h3> - -<p> -Save for flying rumours cantonment life at -Jellalabad had been a little monotonous -for some time past. Paper hunts had been -resorted to, and polo was played every -afternoon by officers of the 10th Hussars, -riding Cabul ponies upon a piece of ground -cleared for them by their men about two -miles from the city. -</p> - -<p> -Other officers exercised their skill in -'potting,' with the breechloader, quails, -and the beautiful partridge, called the -'hill chuckore' by the Afghans, wild -sheep, and antelopes, while some of the -more adventurous brought down a wolf -or hyena, but as these were chiefly to be -found at a distance some personal risk -was incurred, and one might be 'potted' -in turn by the 'juzail' of some hill-man -lurking unseen behind a rock or tree. -</p> - -<p> -The counterbalance to these little -amusements were visitations of wind and dust, -or torrents of rain, that pattered like a -storm of dry peas on the tents of the -troops who were in camp near the city, so, -when the weather had become settled, all -hailed with considerable satisfaction the -advent of the expedition under General -Macpherson to look after a gathering of -the Mohmunds—a tribe of about fifty -thousand souls, whose fighting men were -reported as mustering for mischief on the -other side of the Cabul river, in the -south-west corner of the Jellalabad Valley, -opposite to Girdi Kas, where the stream flows -away towards Chardeh. -</p> - -<p> -The staff were in their saddles betimes, -and on the ground in front of the city. -</p> - -<p> -'Good morning, gentlemen,' said old -Spatterdash, as he came cantering up on -his Arab in the dark. 'What is the hour?' -</p> - -<p> -Colville adroitly caught a firefly, and -placing it for a moment on the glass of his -watch, saw the time. -</p> - -<p> -'Four o'clock, colonel.' -</p> - -<p> -'We have other work this morning than -pig-sticking or potting jackals and foxes; -but there is time yet for a cup of coffee -dashed with brandy—a cheroot, and then -away.' -</p> - -<p> -'The bugles are sounding, and there go -the trumpets of the Hussars and Lancers -blowing "boot and saddle."' -</p> - -<p> -Disdaining the use of a regulation -sword, which he stigmatised as an 'army -tailor's blunt knife,' Colonel Spatterdash -rode with an enormous tulwar by his -side—a weapon once wielded by the great -rebel Tantia Topee—one literally for -slicing, and having such an edge that -he might have shaved with it. He was -in high spirits, and being still practically -under the influence of his potations -overnight, was humming the song of 'The -Sepoy Grenadiers'— -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'The spirits of our sires,<br /> - Who gathered such renown<br /> - From clouds of battle fires,<br /> - With stern delight look down,<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'To Delhi and to Deeg they point,<br /> - Those stars of other years;<br /> - And bid us still uphold the fame<br /> - Of <i>the Sepoy Grenadiers</i>!'<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -'I'm not likely to die from "waste of -nervous tissue," as the doctors call it, -whatever the devil it may be,' he added, -as he unsheathed his tulwar, that flashed -in the paling starlight; 'we'll have a -burra khana' (<i>i.e.</i>, big dinner) 'when we -come back, after polishing off these -Mohmund fellows.' -</p> - -<p> -'At least all who are able to partake -of it.' -</p> - -<p> -'Don't be gloomy, Colville; d—n it, I -never am.' -</p> - -<p> -The force for this expedition was made -up of detachments from the column; there -were some of the Rifles, with some of the -Ghoorkas, 1st Sikhs, and 20th Punjaub -Infantry, one hundred of the 10th Hussars -under Captain St. Quintin, and one -hundred of the 11th Bengal Lancers, in blue -uniforms faced with red, under Major -Princep. De Latour's Hazara Mountain -Battery came clattering up, and two Royal -Horse Artillery guns, which latter, with a -small force, proceeded at once on -observation down the right bank of the Cabul -river, in case any of the Mohmunds might -have taken post in that direction. -</p> - -<p> -At half-past four in the morning the -whole force—not much over a thousand -men—after forming in silence and as -quickly as possible, without further sound -of drum or bugle, moved off, and, with -St. Quintin's hussars in the van, crossed the -river by the new bridge erected by our -Royal Engineers, and advanced into the -dark country beyond, where the only -sounds heard were the wails of an occasional -jackal, replied to by those of a pack -of his fourfooted brethren. -</p> - -<p> -In galloping from point to point, when -the troops were forming under arms and -then in columns of march, giving the -general's last orders or directions, Colville -had not much time for abstract reflection, -yet a certain idea did occur to him, and he -muttered, with a glow of the purest satisfaction, -</p> - -<p> -'If I fall to-day or any other day, thank -God I have made all square for my dear -girl and her sister, too.' -</p> - -<p> -This referred to a secret visit paid by -him to Lincoln's Inn 'anent' codicils to -his will the day before he left London; -and now he recalled with astonishment the -time when he either disliked these -unknown cousins or forgot that they existed. -</p> - -<p> -Though Mohammed, Khan of Lalpura -and chief of the Mohmunds, had made -complete submission apparently to Sir -Louis Cavagnari at Dakka, in the preceding -year, it did not prevent his people -from opposing us now in arms, like many -other mountain tribes. -</p> - -<p> -After the hoofs of the cavalry and wheels -of the artillery had made the planks of the -trestle-bridge resound, silence again fell -on the column; and when the moon came -out in its oriental splendour, amid some -weird, windy, and fast-flying clouds, there -was light enough to see the column -distinctly. -</p> - -<p> -The sheeny bayonets of the infantry and -the spearheads of the lancers (denuded -<i>pro temp.</i> of their fluttering banneroles) -glittered brightly, as did the sword-blades -of all the officers; and our cavalry are -generally so gaily appointed that, when -the 10th Hussars went cantering to the -front, the flashes of light reflected from -their accoutrements, if they added to the -picturesque, also added to the peril of the -occasion, if any scouting Mohmunds were -about, as this alone would have revealed -the advance of the force, which from its -sombre costume would have been, otherwise, -almost invisible—but the tropical -white helmets were always prominent -objects amid the gloom. -</p> - -<p> -At this time, all our troops in Afghanistan -wore Cashmere putties, or leg-bandages, -made of strips of woollen cloth, two -yards and a half long, with a tape stitched -on at the end. They were worn round -the calf of the leg from the ankle to -the knee, where the tape secured them. -For cavalry and infantry alike they were -a useful and warm addition to the clothing -in cold weather; and there was but one -objection—the time necessary for binding -them on. -</p> - -<p> -Some natives acted as guides, and in the -cold moonlight the cavalry and artillery -went clattering over rough stones, and -more than one of the former fell from his -horse, and of the latter off the limber-seats, -as some sudden and deceitful ditch -or water channel had to be crossed. The -enemy was in front; no one knew precisely -when or where he might be fallen on, and -this added to the zest and excitement of -the time and occasion. -</p> - -<p> -The orders of the cavalry were to spur -on in front; to get in between the -Mohmunds and the hills, for the purpose of -cutting off their retreat; and a picturesque -sight were the Hussars and Lancers, as -they dashed through the Kunar River -(which joins the Cabul about five miles from -Jellalabad), in its descent from Shigar, -and flashes of light came from their -glancing accoutrements as they vanished away -from the sight of the infantry in the gloom -ahead, when a cloud passed over the face -of the moon. -</p> - -<p> -Next came the infantry splashing through -the Kunar, which rose to the men's -waist-belts, and was broad at the point where -it was crossed; and a bath such as it -gave was not a desirable beginning in a -cold morning with the work they had in -hand. -</p> - -<p> -At one place the route lay over what -seemed to have been an old Mohammedan -burial-ground. Coffins are not used in -the East, the body being simply rolled -up in a sheet, and placed in the grave -with only a foot or two of earth spread -over it. Into these receptacles the wheels -of the guns stuck fast in succession, -compelling the gunners to quit the -limber-seats and drag them out, crushing and -grinding the human bones beneath, and -causing an expression of much rough -language unfitted for ears polite. If the -superstition of the Afghans, who greatly -venerate burial places, which they call -'Cities of the Silent,' be true, that the -ghosts of the dead sit at the head of their -own graves, invisible to mortal eyes, -enjoying the odours of the flowers planted -there, the said ghosts must have been -somewhat scared by the row Her Majesty's -gunners made till they got their -seven-pounders free from this succession of -traps, and once more on solid ground; -and also by old Spatterdash, who was -impatient to get his Sepoys forward, and -swore in English and Hindostanee. -</p> - -<p> -Though the Kunar river, which takes -its rise near the great Pamir Steppe and -Bam-i-Duniah, or 'the Roof of the World,' -was left in the rear, the troops had to -splash through several tributaries of it ere -they obtained higher ground, and then -they began to look upon scenery wild and -mighty, rugged and uncultured, where -wolves peopled the forest, the elk and deer -haunted the brook, and the crane and the -stork hovered about the watercourses, and -over all, desolate and savage, towered the -mountains of Shigar, many thousands of -feet in height. -</p> - -<p> -Sometimes the route lay between groves -of dark poplars, of pale green willows, or -dwarf palm, sunk amid which the tributaries -of the Kunar flowed like streaks of -silver; and sometimes between vegetation -familiar to the British eye—the ash, the -oak, the chestnut, and hawthorn, though -mingling with the cedar, the olive, and -fig. -</p> - -<p> -Major Louis Cavaguari, a handsome -dark-complexioned man, whom Colville -now saw for the first time, came riding -up and joined the staff, accompanied by a -brilliantly attired and accoutred Afghan -horseman, whom he introduced as the -Khan of Besoot, from whom much useful -information could be gathered, among -others that a range of hills in front was -full of the enemy under a fanatic named -Moollah Khalil. -</p> - -<p> -The Ghoorkas, who were leading, were -now ordered to seek cover as soon as they -had left in rear a village near these hills, -while the cavalry swung round to take -these in flank or cut off the retreat of the -enemy, and with that force went Colville -with a message from the general. -</p> - -<p> -While galloping on to overtake them he -could see the files who were to skirmish -dart out in extended order with unslung -carbines, and soon the cracking of -exchanged shots quickened every pulse as -they were heard among the hills. -</p> - -<p> -'Push forward the mountain battery!' -was now the general's order. -</p> - -<p> -It was galloped to the south side of a -projecting ridge, while old Spatterdash, -with some of the Punjaub infantry, began -to scale its rocky crest. There the -Mohmunds were in position, but so dingily -were they attired, or so much did the -colour of their costume blend with that of -the rocks and trees, that, though not a -single man of them could as yet be separately -distinguished, the existence of their -masses was known by the flashing of their -arms in the sunshine, or by the fluttering -out of a red or green village banner against -the sky-line. -</p> - -<p> -While measures were thus being taken -to have them on the flank and an attack -was delivered in front, De Latour got his -mountain guns ready for action, and sent -a shell at a thousand yards' range whistling -through the air. Curving in its course, it -fell and burst among them high up on the -ridge, scattering death and mutilation. -Another and another fell, and then, as the -arms ceased to glitter, it was known that -the Mohmunds were falling back. -</p> - -<p> -Again the flashing of their weapons in -the sunshine, and the jets of white smoke -from their long juzails, levelled over bank -and rock, but fired at long and almost -useless distances, announced a rally or -pause in their retreat, the line of which -lay along a plain that extended away to -the eastward, and onward through that -space and clouds of rising dust swept the -cavalry, followed by the infantry at the -double. -</p> - -<p> -The skirmishers of Redhaven's troop -having, in the ardour of pursuit, advanced -too far into a dell, became suddenly -exposed to a galling fire, which emptied -more than one saddle; and Colville dashed -forward with orders for their recall. -</p> - -<p> -The trumpet sounded the 'retire,' and -it was obeyed by all but one hussar, -who continued to load and fire, while -the juzail balls whistled about him, and -knocked up jets of sand about his horse's -hoofs. -</p> - -<p> -'Sound again!' said Lieutenant Redhaven -to the trumpeter, who sat with the -bell of the trumpet planted on his thigh. -</p> - -<p> -Again he blew, but in vain. -</p> - -<p> -'He is too far—he does not hear it—the -fellow will be lost!' -</p> - -<p> -'Oh, he hears it well enough, sir,' replied -the trumpeter; 'but just now he pretends -to be deaf.' -</p> - -<p> -'Deaf!—what the devil does he mean? -To throw his life away?' -</p> - -<p> -'Looks like it, from what I have seen of -him more than once.' -</p> - -<p> -'He is a brave but reckless fool!' -exclaimed Redhaven, impetuously, as he was -now seen engaged with four Afghan horsemen, -after having slung his carbine, and -drawn his sword; and by this time Colville, -full of pity and admiration, inspired -also by the passing remarks of the -trumpeter, was already on the spur to succour -him. -</p> - -<p> -'Allow me, sir, that officer can't go -alone; besides, the poor fellow is my own -comrade,' said a hussar, who, without -waiting for Redhaven's consent, dashed the -spurs into his horse, settled himself well -down on the saddle, and in less than a -minute was among the cloud of dust, -where Colville and the other hussar were -in close <i>mĂªlĂ©e</i> with the four Afghans, one -of whom was the Moollah Khalil, who was -armed, not with a tulwar, but an enormous -maul, furnished with a round knob of gilt -metal. -</p> - -<p> -'Allah Ackbar, Mohammed resool illa,' -he was shrieking, with blazing eyes, as he -goaded his horse in the fray, and laid about -him like a madman, and by one blow -brained or stunned the horse of the -skirmisher whose rashness had brought this -combat about, and during which the juzailchees -had ceased firing, lest they might hit -their own leader. -</p> - -<p> -Ere the hussar could free himself from -his stirrups the maul was about to descend -on his head, when a thrust from Colville's -sword, delivered under the right arm, -pierced the lungs of Moollah Khalil, who -fell to rise no more, and, protecting the -hussar by a great circular sweep of his -sword, Colville dragged him up by his -bridle hand, and mounted him on the -Moollah's horse. His follower had now -disposed of a second Afghan just as his -horse was shot under him, and the two -others, terrified by the fall of the Moollah, -fled at a gallop, on which the <i>juzailchees</i> -resumed firing, and the shot whistled and -whirred past Colville and his companions. -</p> - -<p> -'Quick—run as best you can,' said he, -putting his horse to a trot, but loth to -leave the two soldiers behind. -</p> - -<p> -A wailing cry escaped one as a shot -evidently struck him, and Colville paused -by checking his bridle. The man was -mortally wounded and ghastly pale, yet he -walked on for some thirty paces, erect and -steadily, his eyes fixed on vacancy; then -he paused, and fell dead on his face. -</p> - -<p> -'Poor Sam Surcingle!' exclaimed the -other, and at that moment Colville also -dropped from his saddle, struck by a ball -in the left ribs. -</p> - -<p> -Luckily it was a spent one, and only -knocked the breath out of him; but not a -moment was to be lost, as a few of the -Mohmund <i>juzailchees</i> were creeping back, -filled with the maddest rage at the death -of their fanatic leader, who had believed -his life to be charmed. -</p> - -<p> -The hussar dragged Colville up, and -almost lifted him into the saddle, and -taking the bridle applied one spur to both -horses, and brought the officer into the -lines faint, worn, and with his mouth full -of blood. -</p> - -<p> -When safe out of fire Colville dismounted -near a pool covered with crimson -water-lilies—the sacred lotus of Brahma—and -then the hussar whose life he had saved, -and who had succoured him in return, -opened his blue patrol jacket and proceeded, -after bathing his face and giving him a -draught from the pool, to examine his hurts -with a skilful hand. -</p> - -<p> -'Not a rib broken, sir, thank God' said -he; 'only a contusion, and the consequent -discolouration will pass away in a few -days. I haven't forgotten my Quain and -Turner.' -</p> - -<p> -'Robert Wodrow!' exclaimed Colville, -recognising for the first time the -ex-medical student. -</p> - -<p> -'Yes, Captain Colville—Robert Wodrow -it is,' replied the other, with a sad -smile, as he proffered his brandy-flask. -</p> - -<p> -'Thanks—I have my own,' said Colville, -struggling into a sitting position. 'Mary -and Ellinor Wellwood told me of the step -you had taken—a very rash one I think -it—when you failed in your studies through -the mischief wrought you by that scoundrel -Sleath.' -</p> - -<p> -'So you met them?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes—and left them well and every way, -I hope, happy.' -</p> - -<p> -'It is an unexpected pleasure to see you -here, sir.' -</p> - -<p> -'My poor fellow, if I can befriend you, -I shall, believe me,' said Colville, shaking -Robert's hand. -</p> - -<p> -'Thank you, Captain Colville; my officers -and comrades like me already, thank God; -and I am now a corporal.' -</p> - -<p> -'They are right who assert that there is -nothing certain but the unexpected,' said -Colville, laughing, yet wincing the while -with pain; 'and this meeting with you has -been most unexpected by me.' -</p> - -<p> -'But not by me, sir.' -</p> - -<p> -'How so?' -</p> - -<p> -'I have seen you in and about Jellalabad -for days and weeks past.' -</p> - -<p> -'And why did you not speak to me?' -</p> - -<p> -'I am not now what I was—when hoping -to be a graduate of the Edinburgh -University, but a poor hussar—<i>un simple -soldat</i>.' -</p> - -<p> -'Simple, indeed, to throw your chances -in life away thus—and even your life too, -as you so nearly did a few minutes ago.' -</p> - -<p> -'I had none left—none that I cared for,' -said Robert, hoarsely. -</p> - -<p> -While this conversation was taking -place, the infantry and artillery had -halted, and the brigadier, with all the -cavalry, had pushed on in pursuit of -the fugitive Mohmunds as far as a place -called Gurdao, in a gorge, where the -Cabul river flows out of the valley of -Jellalabad. -</p> - -<p> -On an islet in the river there are the -remains of an old Buddhist monastery, -surrounded by a tope of hoary trees. For -here had once been the worship of -Buddha—a worship which, though now almost -banished from India, has spread over -countries of an almost wider area, and is -usually ranked as the ninth avatar of -Vishnu. -</p> - -<p> -Here a few of the Mohmunds made their -last stand, till the best cavalry marksmen -picked them off with their carbines, and -the whole troops began a retrograde -movement towards Jellalabad. -</p> - -<p> -Colville was once more in his saddle, -and, by Redhaven's permission, Robert -Wodrow attended to him on the march. -</p> - -<p> -'I wish I understood the law of crises,' -says the author of <i>Altiora Peto</i>. 'I -suppose it has an intimate connection with -that other mysterious problem, the law of -chances ... I have always had a theory,' -he adds, 'that from time to time our lives -culminate to crises. Then the crisis bursts, -and we begin again, and slowly or rapidly, -as the case may be, culminate to another -crisis.' -</p> - -<p> -Well, here was a crisis and something -more in connection with the law of chances. -The two men who loved the two sisters, -Mary and Ellinor Wellwood, under -circumstances and with success so different, -by the birks of Invermay, were now face -to face and together in that far-away land -of peril. -</p> - -<p> -After hearing Colville's little narrative -of what had transpired before he left -London, Robert Wodrow looked at him for a -time in silence, and thought how different -were their fates and probable future in the -world. -</p> - -<p> -Colville had hope and wealth, he (Wodrow) -neither, and life seemed so valueless; -yet a couple of Afghan bullets might solve -all difficulties for both of them! -</p> - -<p> -While the artillery made a detour to -avoid the pitfalls of the Mohammedan -burial-place, Wodrow was remarking to -the officer by whose side he rode, -</p> - -<p> -'It would seem, Captain Colville, that, -as some writer says of the romance of life, -ours seems to be overtaking us pretty -quickly.' -</p> - -<p> -'Romance, do you call it?' -</p> - -<p> -'Bitterness, in my case, would be nearer -the truth. I am a broken and ruined -man,' said the other, after a pause. -'Ellinor took the last ray of sunshine out of -my life. She told me plainly that she -could not marry a poor man for the world, -nor wait till he became rich—a knowledge -that only came to her after Sir Redmond -Sleath found his way to Birkwoodbrae. -She was wiser, perhaps, but her wisdom, -poor girl, brought her nothing—nothing! -My love was only an ideal after all, -Captain Colville; and though life does not -seem to me worth living, it must be -lived—till ended—after all.' -</p> - -<p> -Colville made no reply, but proffered his -cigar-case to the speaker, who accepted a -cigar with a courteous bow and blush of -pleasure; the very act was a kindly recognition -that they had once been equals, and -were still friends. -</p> - -<p> -'You must quit this sort of thing, -Wodrow, and go back to your studies at -Edinburgh,' said Colville; 'back to Quain and -Turner, to Balfour's Botany, Jackson's -Materia Medica, and all the rest of it. If -you want money for that or anything else, -consider me your banker.' -</p> - -<p> -But Robert Wodrow shook his head with -an air of decision. 'Sir, I thank you from -my heart's core, but no, Captain Colville—never -again.' -</p> - -<p> -'Tuts; we'll talk about all this another -time,' said Colville, kindly, hoping to bring -him to a right way of thinking and acting. -</p> - -<p> -Yet while he declined all proffers of -assistance, Robert Wodrow's mind was full -of thoughts—soft, subduing, and kindly -thoughts—of his reverend father, his -mother so sweet and meek, so abiding and -confiding in the will and goodness of God, -and the old sequestered manse embowered -among the bonnie birks of Invermay—the -manse of Kirktoun-Mailler. -</p> - -<p> -By midnight the returned expedition -marched into the lines of the camp at -Jellalabad. -</p> - -<p> -'You have acted bravely to-day, Captain -Colville,' said the brigadier, shaking his -hand as the troops were dismissed to their -tents; 'and so sure as the stars look down -on us you shall have your V.C. for saving -the rash hussar and killing the Moollah -Khalil. I wish you had polished off -Mohammed Shah, too, while you were about it.' -</p> - -<p> -'Who is he?' asked Colville, to whom -the name seemed somehow familiar. -</p> - -<p> -'One of the sirdars of the Ameer, and -a very distinguished one, now with the -Mohmunds.' -</p> - -<p> -'By Jove! that was the fellow who pretended -to be a hadji, and whom I had for -a night in the Bala Hissar—in the citadel -actually.' -</p> - -<p> -'A lesson for you to be more careful -and less hospitable in future,' said the -brigadier, laughing. -</p> - -<p> -Colville was duly complimented in -general orders, and weeks after the -latter was read and duly appreciated by -one who then was—far, far away! -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap14"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XIV. -<br /><br /> -IN THE LUGHMAN VALLEY. -</h3> - -<p> -The death of the Ameer, and succession -of his son, Yakoub Khan, were now -confirmed beyond all doubt at Jellalabad; -but troubles and skirmishes seemed to be -on the increase, and no man's life was safe. -</p> - -<p> -In the country of the Shinwarris, a -district on the Afghan frontier, a -surveying party was attacked near Maidonak, -though escorted by old Spatterdash and -his Punjaub Infantry. To the natives it -seemed that knocking little pegs into the -ground, sticking up little flags, and taking -the altitude of heights by a theodolite -could only be the blackest sorcery. Other -instruments which were looked through -in a mysterious manner, with the notes -made on paper, were all deemed damnable -charms, and indications of talismanic power, -and the sirdar named Mahmoud Shah, who -was roving in that quarter, together with -Abdullah Mir, another adherent of Yakoub -Khan, reminded the people—as all Muslims -believe firmly in magic—of the evil -wrought by the wicked genie Sacar, the -inveterate foe of Solomon, of Eblis or -Degial, who, according to the Koran, was -that enemy of the human race who -accomplished the downfall of Adam, and much -more nonsense to the same purpose; so -the surveying party were furiously -attacked by a band of fanatics, armed with -tulwar, dagger, and juzail, in a solitary -place near the base of the Suffaidh Koh. -</p> - -<p> -In the conflict that ensued a non-commissioned -officer was killed, a captain of -the Royal Engineers wounded perilously -by the blade of a charah, a subaltern of -native infantry received a ball through his -shoulder, and several Sikhs were killed; -but Spatterdash laid about him vigorously -with his tulwar, split one or two heads -through the long floating loongees like -pumpkins, and brought the party off; -after which General Tytler, at Maidonak -and Girda, burned the two villages, blew -up seven fortified towers, and seized -hostages, to be kept in irons till a heavy fine -was paid. -</p> - -<p> -In due time Colville got his V.C. for -the affair with the Mohmunds, and Robert -Wodrow was recommended for promotion, -and, as the coming general war in the -heart of Afghanistan was likely to make -many a vacancy, if spared, he was sure to -get it. -</p> - -<p> -In consequence of the skirmish at Maidonak -and threatened attacks by the hostile -tribesmen in the vicinity of Jellalabad -and the Lughman Valley, early in March -an expedition was ordered into the latter -quarter, under Major-General Jenkins, and -with it Colville went on the staff. It -proved a very successful movement, with -many important political consequences. -</p> - -<p> -The first news he heard of it was after -a supper in old Spatterdash's bungalow. -</p> - -<p> -'Turn in if you can, lads,' said he, when -the cantonment ghurries clanged midnight; -'and I must have a nap, too. We get -under arms before daylight to-morrow.' -</p> - -<p> -'For what?' asked Colville. -</p> - -<p> -'To fight, of course. Have you not -seen the general orders?' -</p> - -<p> -'No—I was at polo all afternoon with -the 10th. But to fight—where?' -</p> - -<p> -'That depends upon where we find the -enemy, who are gathering as usual for -mischief; so let us have a nightcap of -<i>brandy-pawnee</i>, and then to roost.' -</p> - -<p> -Colville stretched himself in a corner -of the bungalow, and was soon in the -Land of Nod. 'The soldier off duty and -the sailor when his watch is over have the -faculty for getting snatches of sleep at a -moment's notice, which is denied to most -other mortals, and a blessed gift it is.' -</p> - -<p> -An hour before dawn the bugles sounded, -and the troops detailed for the -expedition fell in. -</p> - -<p> -It was then known that the destination -of the force was the Lughman Valley, -where the sirdar Mahmoud Shah was the -active and ruling spirit. -</p> - -<p> -Considerable annoyance and mortification -were felt by Colville at the frequently -recurring mention of this personage's -name, the Hadji spy in Jellalabad whom -he had succoured and protected, a circumstance -for which he had been much quizzed -and 'chaffed,' for, as Lever has it, 'a little -bit of fun goes a long way in the army.' -</p> - -<p> -'A fine fellow to have fostered, Colville,' -said Colonel Spatterdash, as he mounted; -'d—n him, he is worse than a Peshawur -scorpion, and we all know what it is, for -size and venom.' -</p> - -<p> -While the infantry rolls were called, the -companies proved, and the battalions -formed, the battery of artillery were also -getting in order; the horses were champing -their bits, pawing the ground, and laying -back their ears as if impatient for the -trumpet call. The gunners stood by -them—one examining the harness finally to see -that all was right, another altering his -stirrup-leathers by a hole or two, a third -adjusting a comrade's accoutrements, a -fourth grasping the bow of his saddle -ready to mount at the blast of the -trumpet, after which he knew his horse would -no longer remain still; while the trumpeter -stood near the commanding officer, -breathing into the mouthpiece of his brass -instrument, occasionally as if to keep it -ready for sounding. -</p> - -<p> -Anon the men are mounted or on the -limber-seats; the trumpet rings out, the -word <i>march</i> is given; the drivers ease the -reins and close their legs to the riding -horses, throwing their whips gently over -the necks of the off-horses so as to ensure -their starting together; and it is a rule in -artillery that the spurs are for the ridden -horse, the whip for the off one, and to be -applied over the shoulder or neck, but -never in the rear of the pad. -</p> - -<p> -So the guns went clattering to the front, -and the infantry broke into columns of -march, with a cavalry advance-guard, just -as the sun began to lighten the summit -of the Suffaidh Koh and other snow-clad -mountains. -</p> - -<p> -The Lughman Valley lies north of -Jellalabad, and is overlooked by the -Himalayas, though extending to the -lower ridges of the Hindoo Koosh, while -Kaffiristan borders it on the east. -</p> - -<p> -Colville, of course, rode with the staff, and -the ill-fated Louis Cavagnari accompanied -it. -</p> - -<p> -Many narrow valleys, with torrents -traversing their boulder-strewn beds, and -sides covered with beautiful vegetation, -were passed in succession, with several -villages, each marked by an enormous -chunar or Oriental plane—perhaps by two -or three placed near each other for shade, -where the Moollah might bring forth his -Koran, and recite it for the information -of others. -</p> - -<p> -As the troops proceeded the rocks around -them seemed to grow darker and darker, -owing to the lead ore among them, while -enormous boulders of every kind of stone -were strewn about far away from their -original beds out of which the torrents of -ages past had torn them. -</p> - -<p> -Shaggy goats and broad-tailed doombas, -or Persian sheep, were seen grazing near -the villages, where at first the people came -forth peacefully to gaze with wonder upon -the Feringhees. No untoward event -occurred, till a tribesman drew near where -a party of hussars were halted, carrying -a sharp axe concealed behind his back, -and evidently bent on mischief, as he was -known by his white dress to be a Ghazi, -or fanatic devoted to death. -</p> - -<p> -With his weapon, he was about to aim -a blow that must have proved a deadly -one on an unsuspecting corporal, when, -quick as thought, Robert Wodrow, who -had his sword drawn, clove his head to the -teeth. -</p> - -<p> -This was a signal for strife. Alarm fires -soon began to shoot up redly on several -eminences; yells and shouts came upon -the mountain wind from armed parties -mustering fast among the rocks and -eyries and ere long a sputtering fire of -juzails, or native rifles, was opened on the -column, and men began to drop dead or -limp about wounded. -</p> - -<p> -Out of these lofty places the tribesmen -were shelled, but not without difficulty, -and ultimately driven by the rifle-fire of -our skirmishers into a narrow, rocky -defile, which proved a kind of natural -cul-de-sac, out of which there was little or no -exit; and there into the wedged mass, shell -after shell at a thousand yards went -smoking and whistling till it plumped and -exploded among them with terrible effect; -but it was necessary to teach these treacherous -people a lesson, and a severe one it -proved. -</p> - -<p> -Four days the expedition remained in -the Lughman Valley, and on the fourth, -when passing on the downward route the -place where the conflict had ensued, and -where rifle and shell fire had decimated -the enemy, Colville, who for a -considerable time past had been somewhat -unused to strife and slaughter, looked with -a kind of horror upon the scene around -him. -</p> - -<p> -Save the vultures and carrion crows no -living creature had ventured to approach -the gorge where the dead, and dying yet -lay—a picture of human anguish and -human passions indescribable. -</p> - -<p> -The bodies of the torn and mutilated -lay thickly there, either stark and stiff in -the refuge of death, or writhing and -struggling, as if to escape the doom of -those beside them. -</p> - -<p> -If this scene seemed dreadful by day, -more dreadful and ghastly did it seem to -those in the rear of the column, who passed -it after nightfall, and the moon shed its -cold light over the Katcha mountains, and -the rear-guard of Hussars, under Redhaven, -had to pick their way amid bodies lying -half-naked, in every conceivable position, -with dark and bloody faces on the broad -and ghastly grin, distorted and battered -limbs, with clenched hands and staring -open eyes; while some of the dead sat bolt -upright against rocks and boulders, with -jaws dropped, and stiffened fingers grimly -pointing at vacancy. -</p> - -<p> -The next expedition towards the Lughman -Valley was marked by a terrible -disaster, the story of which went through -the length and breadth of the British -Isles. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap15"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XV. -<br /><br /> -THE FANCY BALL. -</h3> - -<p> -From such a scene as that in the Lughman -Valley we gladly turn to one of a very -different kind. -</p> - -<p> -It was an evening of the early days of -April, when the elms begin to show their -half-developed foliage, the buds of the oak -are red, and the sprays of the beech gleam -like emeralds against the blue sky, and the -laburnum is clothed in green and gold, -that Mary and Ellinor Wellwood sat in a -beautiful flower garden while idling over -some 'crewel work,' and watching a glorious -sunset as it shone on the broad waters -of the Elbe. -</p> - -<p> -We have said that for change of air and -of scene Mrs. Deroubigne, who acted to -them as a second mother, had taken them -with her to the Continent, and, after -wandering through France and Holland, they -now found themselves installed in a pretty -villa near Altona, about two miles from -the gay, busy, and hospitable city of -Hamburg, whose merchants are so famous for -the excellence of their dinners, and the -splendour of their entertainments. -</p> - -<p> -It was a lovely spring evening; the -Elbe, studded with shipping under sail or -steam, was rolling in light, its blue -blending into crimson; and beyond it lay the -low, green hills of Hanover, now no longer -a petty kingdom, but an integral portion -of the great German empire. -</p> - -<p> -The sun was setting, and such a sunset! -</p> - -<p> -Separated from Hamburg only by a -space called the Field of the Holy Ghost, -where daily the spike-helmeted Prussian -troops could be seen at drill, the wharves -and warehouses of Altona join those of the -city, as they stretch along the waterside -with stately rows of pale green poplars -behind them. -</p> - -<p> -Beyond the last of these, in a little -wooded creek, and on the summit of a -green bank overlooking the river, stood -the charming little villa occupied -temporarily by Mrs. Deroubigne, from the -windows of which the great panorama of the -Hansetown was visible, with the lofty -red-brick tower of St. Michael's Kirk (a -hundred feet higher than the dome of -St. Paul's at London), bathed in ruddy gold, -and casting its mighty shadow half-way -to Altona; and, as the evening sky grew -redder, the spires of St. Katharine and -St. Nicholai grew redder too; and now, -impressed by the beauty of the evening and -of the scene, the influence of the season -and the soft purity of the ambient air, the -two girls, in the new happiness of their -hearts, sang together a duet from 'Il -Flauto Magico,' of Mozart, all unaware -that a young Prussian officer—a smart -uhlan, in bright green uniform—was -lingering admiringly near them. -</p> - -<p> -We need scarcely mention, though Hamburg -is famous for the beauty of its women, -the officers of the garrison, the uhlans, and -the Hanoverian infantry in the Dammthor -Barracks always welcomed the appearance -of the two 'charming English meeses' and -their handsome chaperone at the consul's -balls, the opera, the <i>fĂªtes</i> in the Botanischer -Garten, or when the bands played in the -fashionable Jungfernstieg (or Maiden's -Walk), the beautiful tree-shaded -promenade by the side of the Alster, which is -always covered with gaily-painted -pleasure-boats. -</p> - -<p> -These amusements, with fancy work, -music, and novels—Tauchnitz editions, of -course—made the sweet spring days pass -quickly with Mary and Ellinor in that gay -city, where, it is said, that in summer the -inhabitants appear to work all day and -amuse themselves all night. -</p> - -<p> -Before their departure to the Continent, -great had been the astonishment of Lady -Dunkeld and the fair Blanche Galloway -when they heard of the near relationship -of Colville to the sisters, of his -engagement to Mary, and that they were to be -chaperoned by Mrs. Deroubigne till the -marriage came to pass. -</p> - -<p> -'The marriage!' How Blanche elevated -her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders. -It was bitter to lose thus the future Lord -Colville of Ochiltree. -</p> - -<p> -Both those aristocratic ladies would fain -have extended their patronage and -countenance to the sisters now; but, aware of -their past malevolence, Mary and Ellinor, -though far from revengeful, steadily -declined all intercourse with them. Nor did -Mrs. Deroubigne attempt to control their -actions or wishes in the matter. Thus a -coldness amounting almost to a 'cut' -ensued between her and the Dunkeld family. -</p> - -<p> -Leslie Colville's last letter to Mary from -Jellalabad had narrated the episode of his -meeting with Robert Wodrow, and the -mutual good services they had done each -other; and Mary, who had read of the -personal conflict in the war correspondent's -news, felt her heart sink within her at the -contemplation of the many and incessant -perils her lover—her affianced -husband—had to encounter. -</p> - -<p> -And how often did Mary recall their -parting, when he had held her face -tenderly and caressingly between his hands -while he gazed down into her tear-blinded -eyes, so sweetly and so passionately, posed -as they both were like the pair in 'the -Huguenot' of Millais's picture; while she -looked up to him as sweetly and as -passionately too. -</p> - -<p> -His departure had seemed to Mary but -the beginning of the end. Yet who could -foresee amid the terrible contingencies of -war and climate what that end might be? -</p> - -<p> -Thankful she felt as each day passed, -and with it a portion of the time of -separation; but who might know what that -day had seen or brought forth far, far -away among the wild mountains of Afghanistan? -And so, with curious and persistent -ingenuity, thoughtful and anxious fancy -often tormented her. -</p> - -<p> -Yet under different influences and -happier auspices, and amid new scenes, both -sisters regained the old glow of health and -beauty they had possessed each in her own -degree in former days at pleasant -Birkwoodbrae. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile with Ellinor, as the conviction -of her own sudden selfishness and -folly grew strong in her heart, and the -now odious image of Sir Redmond Sleath -faded out of it, the memory of Robert -Wodrow and of other days took their place -there; but what would that avail either -of them now? -</p> - -<p> -The sisters ceased their duet suddenly, -when Jack the fox-terrier, who had been -nestling against Mary's skirts, started up -to greet with many a yelp of delight the -young officer who fed him so often with -biscuits and chocolate creams. -</p> - -<p> -'Pardon my interrupting a song so -sweet,' said he, in good English, 'but my -purpose must be my excuse,' he added, -with a military salute, for the Baron -Rolandsburg—a visitor of Mrs. Deroubigne's—belonged -to the Uhlans, and, like all -Prussian officers, was seldom or never -seen out of uniform, the green laced with -gold of the dashing Lancers. -</p> - -<p> -He was a fair-haired and handsome man, -barely thirty years of age, and in his -fifteenth year had the glory of being the -first Prussian to enter Paris, for he it was -who galloped his horse amid scowling and -assembled thousands through the Arc de -Triomphe after winning the iron cross at -Sedan; and now he had brought 'for -Madame Deroubigne' and her two young -ladies, tickets for a most exclusive fancy -ball, to be given in the Theatre of -Hamburg, which is one of the largest in -Germany; for, though there are many public -ball-rooms in that pleasure-loving city, -they are never patronised by the upper -classes. -</p> - -<p> -The baron had been the sisters' escort -to all 'the lions' of Hamburg—to the -churches, the stately and crowded <i>Börse</i>, -to RÅ“dings Museum, the tomb of Klopstock, -the great garden kept by a Scotsman -at Wandsbeck, overlooked by the house of -Tycho Brahe, and they had lingered again -and again on the summit of the Stintfang, -from whence there is such an extensive -view of the harbour, the Elbe, and the -opposite coast of Hanover, and his hand -had often assisted Ellinor in her sketches -of the Vierlanders in their picturesque -costume and of their boats laden with -glowing fruit, flowers, and vegetables. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Deroubigne deemed there was no -harm in all this. It amused the girls, -drew them from their own sad thoughts, -and so far as she could see the admiration -and attention of the young baron were -pretty equally divided between them, or if -he had a preference it was for Mary, as it -seemed ere long. -</p> - -<p> -But the tickets for the fancy ball—a -ball of a kind so peculiarly flattering to -female vanity and taste in costume and so -forth—seemed to crown all his previous -good offices and kindness, and they accepted -them with a genuine delight that quite -flattered him. -</p> - -<p> -Bouquets (selected by those pretty Vierlander -flower girls, whose picturesque caps -and embroidered bodices make them quite -a feature in Hamburg), gloves, music, even -a fan or two, had come from the Baron -Rolandsburg, but always at appropriate -times, with reference to a stall at the opera -or an afternoon dance. -</p> - -<p> -There was no reason why Mary should -not accept such gifts; yet she would rather -that they did not come, as their acceptance -seemed a kind of treason to him who was -then so far, far away. -</p> - -<p> -For some days their fancy dresses were -an all engrossing source of thought and -topic with the girls and their chaperone; -but, after many changes of mind, costumes -of the reign of Mary Stuart were selected -by them, Mary choosing blue, slashed and -trimmed with white, as suited to her -blonde complexion, and Ellinor rose -colour, trimmed and slashed with black, as -suited to her dark hair and hazel eyes, -and wonderfully handsome and piquante -they looked. -</p> - -<p> -On the forenoon of the ball the baron -arrived with three magnificent bouquets -and two beautiful fans for the sisters—the -best that could be obtained in the Neuer -Wall. -</p> - -<p> -'How charming—how kind!' exclaimed -both, blushing with pleasure. -</p> - -<p> -'For our dance to-night,' said Rolandsburg, -in his most insinuating tone, to -Mary, 'how many waltzes are you to give -me?' he asked, in a lower voice. -</p> - -<p> -'How many do you want?' asked Mary, -coquettishly. -</p> - -<p> -'I would like them all of course—save -those I may have with Miss Ellinor; but -that is too much to expect.' -</p> - -<p> -As all this implied more than words, -Mary appeared not to hear, and addressed -Mrs. Deroubigne. -</p> - -<p> -In due time they were attired, and -drove through the brilliantly lighted -streets to the Stadt Theatre in the -Dammthor Strasse, where the Burgher Guard, -in quaint uniforms, were under arms to -receive the burgomasters and four -Syndics of the city, who wear on state -occasions high-crowned hats and black -velvet cloaks, with ruffs and swords; -and there, about the entrances, were a -crowd of blooming Vierlander flower-girls, -selling bouquets and button-holes, -their quaint hats or gold-embroidered caps, -their bodices of crimson or black, covered -with gold-broidery, and their short blue -skirts, making each a picture. -</p> - -<p> -'I shall dance with no one else but you -to-night,' said the uhlan, in his softest -tone, to Mary. -</p> - -<p> -'No one else?' said she. -</p> - -<p> -'Save your sister.' -</p> - -<p> -'Our poor uhlan is evidently playing -with edged tools, Mary,' said Mrs. Deroubigne, -with a smile, while the baron was -intently pencilling on their programmes -and his own. -</p> - -<p> -The stage and floored pit of the theatre, -which had been converted into one vast, -brilliantly lighted and gaily decorated hall, -was filling fast with guests in every real -and fanciful costume that can be conceived, -and already the great orchestra in their -places were playing a kind of overture; -but their music was to be alternated by -the great brass band of the uhlans; and, -though many handsome, even rarely beautiful -girls were present, Mary and Ellinor -Wellwood were remarked amid them all. -</p> - -<p> -'Schön! schön!' (beautiful, beautiful) -muttered many, as they passed to their -appointed place with Mrs. Deroubigne. -</p> - -<p> -'En veritĂ©!' exclaimed a gallant little -French consul; 'ces dames sont charmantes!' -</p> - -<p> -But the ball itself has less to do with -our story than what it preluded. -</p> - -<p> -Many of the dresses were gorgeous in -texture and decoration—silk, velvet, gold -and silver jewellery, and the richest lace, -fairy-like in delicacy of fashion and tint, -and when the dancers in hundreds flew -round in the waltz it seemed a glimpse of -the land of Elphin. -</p> - -<p> -The music was divine, and Mary felt -every nerve and fibre of her frame respond -to it as she sped round with slippered feet -over the well-waxed floor on the arm of -Rolandsburg, whose step and time suited -hers to perfection. -</p> - -<p> -There were beautiful Jewish matrons -from the fashionable mansions on the -Alster Damm, with broods of black-eyed -and equally beautiful daughters; for the -Jewish ladies of Hamburg, in style, beauty, -and delicacy of feature, excel all others of -their race; but the blonde beauties of -Holstein and North Germany far exceeded -them in numbers and glow of complexion. -</p> - -<p> -Off the dancing-hall were artificial -conservatories and refreshment-rooms for -ice-cream, jelly, and flirtation, where servants -were in attendance clad like Turks, with -turbans and slippers, pistols and yataghans, -and where, with a sound like file-firing, -the champagne corks flew up to the gilded -ceilings. -</p> - -<p> -Amid the dazzling scene, as Mary paused -in a waltz, panting, palpitating, and -blushing to see her own reflection in a mirror, -as she almost clung to the arm of the -baron in his green uhlan uniform, and -found herself the object of so much -attention and admiration, her mind reverted -with a kind of dull and painful wonder to -the past days of their obscure abode in -frowsy Paddington; to her struggles for -employment, and her lonely wanderings in -unfamiliar streets, where often her beauty -subjected her to such observation and -insolent annoyance that often she longed to -be old and ugly; and when her chief hope -had been to fill the place of governess to -some one's children—well-bred or ill-bred, -yet not without a faint vision of future -good fortune, position, and admiration—perhaps -even riches; she was too young -to be without such fancies and hopes. -</p> - -<p> -Ellinor thought she would never forget -the splendours and enjoyments of the -fancy dress ball; in all its features and -details it was so new to her, and from a -subsequent event she was fated to -remember it long. -</p> - -<p> -The baron, always attentive and full of -<i>empressement</i>, was enchanted to be the -privileged cavalier to two such English -belles. -</p> - -<p> -Mary, in her piquant Mary Stuart cap, -with a little ruff round her delicate neck, -her sleeves puffed and slashed, her peaked -bodice, all blue satin, with seed pearls, -quite dazzled him, and matured the passion -for her that was growing in his heart; -and at last, in the intervals of the dances, -though he yielded her with undisguised -reluctance to other uhlans, dragoons, and -gunners, who crowded about her, -programme in hand, he ventured to speak -on the subject—not to her, but to -Mrs. Deroubigne, and thus spared her some -pain and confusion. -</p> - -<p> -'Madame,' said he, while conducting her -to a refreshment-room, 'you evidently love -these two young ladies as if they were -your own daughters!' -</p> - -<p> -'I do indeed—and they might have -been,' was the somewhat enigmatical reply -of Mrs. Deroubigne, with one of her bright -sweet smiles. -</p> - -<p> -'Ah! who would not love them, the -blue-eyed one especially.' -</p> - -<p> -'Mary?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes, madame. I thought generally that -love only existed in plays and novels.' -</p> - -<p> -'And when were you undeceived?' -</p> - -<p> -'When first I knew <i>her</i>.' -</p> - -<p> -'Baron, you must dismiss such thoughts,' -said Mrs. Deroubigne, with some dismay. -</p> - -<p> -'Why, madame?' he asked, smiling. -</p> - -<p> -'The young lady is engaged.' -</p> - -<p> -'Engaged—is that betrothed?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes.' -</p> - -<p> -His countenance changed instantly. -</p> - -<p> -'To an officer—a dear friend of mine—now -in Afghanistan.' -</p> - -<p> -'In Afghanistan!' he repeated, angrily; -'a <i>fiancĂ©</i> there is next to no <i>fiancĂ©</i> at all, -for a bullet may—nay,' said he, pausing, -'this thought is ungenerous of me, and I -would not like another to think thus of -Rolandsburg. Gott in Himmel, how -unlucky I am!' -</p> - -<p> -'I am so sorry to hear all this.' -</p> - -<p> -'So am I—so am I,' exclaimed the baron, -pulling his long fair moustaches, for a -betrothal in Germany gives a young girl a -kind of wife-like sanctity among the homely -and domestic Teutonic people; and -Mrs. Deroubigne, who dearly loved the romantic, -felt for him; the young man's hopes had -been cruelly crushed at the very moment -when he thought them brightest. -</p> - -<p> -'One cannot have everything they -want—it is not given to anyone on earth -to be perfectly happy, I suppose,' said he, -with a sigh, and there was a sadness, with -a ring of sincerity, in his voice that -certainly touched Mrs. Deroubigne. -</p> - -<p> -'Have you spoken of love to her?' whispered -she, behind her fan; 'but I hope not!' -</p> - -<p> -'No—I have never spoken—but she -must have inferred what I felt,' replied -the baron, who, like most German officers, -spoke English well. -</p> - -<p> -'Inferred it—I scarcely think so, with -her mind so occupied with the thoughts of -another.' -</p> - -<p> -'But, any way, I think it does a girl -good to know that a man loves her; and -then, if the proverb be true about one love -begetting another, she may incline her -heart to him.' -</p> - -<p> -'Not in this instance, baron.' -</p> - -<p> -For Rolandsburg now the charm of the -ball was over; the music sounded faint, -the lights seemed dim, and he was glad -when the great festivity ended, and he, -after escorting the ladies to their carriage, -took his way slowly through the streets to -his barracks near the Dammthor Wall. -</p> - -<p> -For his disappointment—and it was a -sudden and sore one—he had no one but -himself to blame, he felt, as Mary -Wellwood had never given him the least -encouragement to fling his heart away as -he had done. -</p> - -<p> -And now for the sequel to the night's -adventures. -</p> - -<p> -Talking gaily, as girls will talk after a -ball, criticising costumes and partners, and -comparing notes, Mary, Ellinor, and -Mrs. Deroubigne reached home when day was -beginning to dawn, and the blue waters of -the Elbe were beginning to brighten. -Ellinor, teasing and quizzing Mary about -the baron, had been singing to her— -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Ilka lassie has her laddie,<br /> - But ne'er a one have I;'<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -and Mary, in hot haste, anxious to see the -very latest news, threw open a London -paper which had come over night, but, as -she eagerly scanned it, a cry of dismay -escaped her as she read a brief telegram: -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -'<i>Terrible disaster to the 10th Hussars.—A -whole squadron drowned in the Cabul River, -and two officers, when attempting to save the -life of Corporal Wodrow.</i>' -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The hearts of the sisters stood still as -they read and re-read this startling notice. -</p> - -<p> -The attempt to save Robert Wodrow -had evidently been a failure—so he was -gone! -</p> - -<p> -Who had made the attempt and perished -with him? Mary's agitated mind at once -suggested Colville. Both girls felt -completely stunned. -</p> - -<p> -The returning and growing love—a love -blended with great pity—that had been -developing itself in Ellinor's heart for poor -Robert Wodrow was now absorbed and -swallowed up in a gush of bitterness and -intense remorse at being the cause of his -sorrowful and untimely fate. -</p> - -<p> -How true it is that 'suffering is our -most faithful friend; it is always returning. -Often has it changed its dress, and -even its face; but we can easily recognise -it by its cordial and intimate embrace.' -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -And how was it, then, at the old ivy-clad -manse of Kirktown-Mailler, where the -same terrible telegram had gone like the -dart of death? -</p> - -<p> -There the blinds were drawn down, as if -the hussar who had found his grave in the -Cabul River was lying dead in the bed he -had slept on in boyhood and manhood, -and across which his mother now lay -stretched in hopeless grief. -</p> - -<p> -And a sad-eyed and sympathetic -congregation watched the venerable minister -when, with bent eyes, and slow, unsteady -steps, he entered his pulpit next Sunday. -</p> - -<p> -All knew the dire calamity that had -befallen him, and one and all their kindly -Scottish hearts bled for him, when his -voice failed, his sermon escaped him, and -stretching out his trembling hands on the -pulpit cushion, he bent down his handsome -old head upon them—a head now white as -the thistledown—and begged his people to -excuse him, 'as all night long he had been -in the Valley of the Shadow of Death!' -</p> - -<p> -Then his elders led him into the vestry, -and those who saw him descending the -stair of that pulpit, wherein he had -ministered unto them faithfully for more than -thirty years, never forgot the painful -episode. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap16"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XVI. -<br /><br /> -THE 10TH HUSSARS. -</h3> - -<p> -And now to detail how the catastrophe -referred to came about. -</p> - -<p> -The evening of Monday, the 31st of -March, saw Leslie Colville in his saddle, -and busy conveying orders in the camp -and cantonments of Jellalabad, where -drum and bugle gave the notes of -preparation for the field. -</p> - -<p> -This was between five and six o'clock, -when two columns were suddenly ordered -out for another expedition towards the -Lughman Valley. -</p> - -<p> -One, to be led by Brigadier Gough, was -to consist of seven hundred men furnished -by the 17th and 27th regiments, three -hundred native infantry, four Royal Horse -Artillery guns under Major Stewart, and -two squadrons of the dashing Guide -Cavalry. -</p> - -<p> -This column, according to the orders -repeated by Colville, was to march out at -one o'clock next morning. -</p> - -<p> -'In what direction?' asked old Spatterdash -and others. -</p> - -<p> -'I know not,' replied Colville; 'but -Lughman, I suppose, is the object in view -with it, as well as the other column, under -Brigadier Macpherson.' -</p> - -<p> -The command of the latter consisted of -three hundred Rifles, six hundred Ghoorkas -and Punjaubees, with a mountain battery -under Lieutenant E. J. de Lautour, of the -Royal Artillery, who had served in the -expedition of 1863 against the tribes on -the North-West Frontier, some sappers, -and a squadron each from the 10th Hussars -and 11th Bengal Lancers, who, like the -former corps, wear blue uniforms faced -with red and laced with gold. -</p> - -<p> -The latter column was to be in readiness -to march at nine that evening, with four -days' provisions in the haversacks. -</p> - -<p> -The moon, in a sky flecked with clouds, -was gleaming brightly on the Balla Hissar, -the domes and walls of Jellalabad, though -it was little more than a quarter old, as -Macpherson's column got under arms; -and the rolls were called, the ammunition -served out, the inspection of saddlery and -accoutrements was proceeded with. -</p> - -<p> -Our soldiers always muster merrily for -work such as they had in hand that night; -and, before they were called to attention. -Redhaven had on more than one occasion -to speak almost sharply to Robert Wodrow, -who was—for him, at least—unusually -noisy and jubilant. -</p> - -<p> -'Eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow -we die!' he heard him say. -</p> - -<p> -'Can't make that countryman of yours -out, Colville,' said the hussar-officer, as he -scraped a vesta and lit a cigar. 'He is -usually the most silent and taciturn fellow -in the troop, and to-night he makes as much -noise as all the Ghoorkas put together.' -</p> - -<p> -'And that puzzles you?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes; he looks like a man with a past.' -</p> - -<p> -'He has indeed a past history, poor -fellow, a sorrowful and not a happy one.' -</p> - -<p> -'Every broken-down fellow takes to the -cavalry now,' grumbled Redhaven; 'but I -was certain he has some secret by the -expression of his eyes, and the inflections -of his modulated voice at times.' -</p> - -<p> -'Poor fellow!' said Colville again. -</p> - -<p> -He knew, what Redhaven did not, that -Robert Wodrow was often a prey to sad -and bitter thoughts; that in the dreams of -the night and of the day when asleep in -the wet-flapping tent or the comfortless -bivouac—when on solitary vidette duty, -under the blazing Afghan sun, he saw -oftener before him—not the fair face of -her for whom he had sacrificed everything, -and whom, he doubted not, would soon -become the bride of another—but the face -of his loving mother—a kind and happy -old face—that ever beamed with love for -him; and opposite her fancy saw his -silver-haired old father, reading some good or -musty volume—Wodrow's <i>Analecta Scotica</i> -perhaps; and often from such visions of -home he was roused by the trumpet -blowing 'boot and saddle,' or the yell of an -Afghan scout armed with <i>juzail</i> and <i>charah</i>. -</p> - -<p> -As a Scotsman, Colville was superstitious -enough to regret that at such a time -the young fellow should show such exuberance -of spirits as the foreboding of evil, -and was in the act of urging his horse -forward to accost him kindly, when the -brigadier came on the ground, the -component parts of the column were called to -'attention,' and in a few minutes after, the -whole force was on the march, and, with -the glittering of sword and bayonet blades, -section after section quickly disappeared -from the eyes of those who watched them -in the cold wintry moonshine that had -turned to diamonds the thick hoarfrost on -every wall and tree; and the march began -which was to prove the last to many in -this life. -</p> - -<p> -'The line of ground between Jellalabad -and Cabul, so far as it is connected with -India,' says a writer, 'is a line of tragedy -and misfortune. That line of tragedy and -misfortune may now be extended a couple -of miles further to the east, for that will -give very nearly the point where forty-six -lives were on that Monday evening suddenly -swept out of existence.' -</p> - -<p> -The troops moved westward, the cavalry -leading. The squadron of the 10th Hussars -was under Captain D'Esterre Spottiswoode, -that of the Bengal Lancers was under its -own captain, and Major E. A. Wood of the -first-named corps commanded the whole. -</p> - -<p> -Guided by an Afghan mountaineer who -had offered his services, and to whom Colville -paid a high bribe therefor, the orders -of the officers were to cross the Cabul -river at a point where most unluckily a -temporary bridge had shortly before been -removed. On achieving that, they were -to move up the left bank of the stream, to -march through Besoot and Darunta, and -enter the Lughman Valley, to which the -infantry were moving by the Jellalabad -side of the Cabul. -</p> - -<p> -The guide, who was mounted on a -powerful and wiry yaboo, or Cabul pony, -was a singularly taciturn fellow, and -Colville remarked a circumstance which -soon became a painful memory, that by -twisting the end of his loonghee, or -head-dress, across the lower part of his face he -effectually concealed his features, permitting -little more than his keen, black, and -glittering eyes to be seen, reminding him -of the muffled men he had read of in old -Scottish Border forays. -</p> - -<p> -Macpherson's column had not been long -gone when the troops at the camp of -Jellalabad were roused and alarmed by -numbers of cavalry horses, all riderless, -galloping wildly among the tents, with -their bridles trailing, and their saddles, -valises, and trappings soaked in water. -</p> - -<p> -'What has happened—what can have -happened?' were the questions asked on -every side. -</p> - -<p> -No one could anticipate the catastrophe -that had really occurred, as at that season -the bed of the Cabul is not always full; -but when the sun melts the accumulated -snow in the Katcha range and other -mountains it is not so. The water then rolls -through many channels, and it was in -anticipation of this that the wooden bridge -had been removed to a point further up. -</p> - -<p> -Where our cavalry were to cross at the -Fort of Isaac, the stream now formed two -branches; the first was thirty feet broad, -with an average of only thirty inches of -water, and the crossing was to be made -under the light of a dim and fitful moon, -at a point where an irrigation channel -diverged at right angles from the stream. -Beyond that point stood a kind of sandy -islet covered with great boulders, and -again beyond it lay a hundred and fifty -feet of water; but as the line of this fatal -ford was <i>not straight</i>, three hundred and -fifty feet of water had to be traversed upon -it, as the ford formed at one point an -acute angle. -</p> - -<p> -Led by the local guides, the squadron of -Bengal Lancers crossed in safety, wheeling -at the given point on the acute angle. -</p> - -<p> -The mules of the squadron followed -next, our hussars, now riding at ease, -waiting till their turn came to cross; and -to amuse the rest, one of them, the -identical Toby Chace, who was one of Robert -Wodrow's earliest comrades, and well -known as a reckless fellow, began to sing -a soldier's ditty, part of which ran thus: -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'There's Bill Muggins left our village,<br /> - Just as sound a man as I;<br /> - Now he goes about on crutches,<br /> - With a single arm and eye.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'To be sure he's got a medal<br /> - And some twenty pounds a year<br /> - For his health, and strength, and service,<br /> - Government can't call that dear;<br /> - Not to reckon one leg shattered,<br /> - Two ribs broken, one eye lost;<br /> - 'Fore I went in such a venture,<br /> - I should stop and count the cost.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - 'Lots o' glory, lots o' gammon——'<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -'Silence there—in front!' cried the -commanding officer, and Colville, who had -some undefinable suspicion of the hussar -guide, placed himself near that personage, -with his revolver case loose and at hand. -</p> - -<p> -'Do not lose the direction, men,' cried -an officer, 'but keep well up against the -stream,' he added, knowing that when -crossing thus there is always a tendency -to edge lower down with the current. -</p> - -<p> -The leading sections began to enter the -stream, the rippling eddies of which went -past them, tipped with silver by the pale -moonlight; the rest followed closely, the -guide directing, and erelong Colville and -others found the water rising to their feet, -then it rose as high as their knees, and -was beginning to get higher, while the -pony of the guide had quitted the angled -line of the ford, and was swimming away -to another point. -</p> - -<p> -'Treachery,' thought Colville; at that -moment the <i>loonghee</i> fell from the face of -the guide, and he recognised Mahmoud -Shah, the sirdir with the slashed -cheek—Mahmoud, the hadji, whom he had saved -from the Wahabees! -</p> - -<p> -'This is getting awkward!' exclaimed -Redhaven, 'there must be some mistake.' -</p> - -<p> -'We are betrayed!' cried Colville. -</p> - -<p> -He put his hand to his pistol-case, but -too late, for now his horse rolled over, and -with an exulting shriek in English of -'Pigs! dogs! Kaffirs!—drown and be -damned! Eblis and hell await you! In -vain will ye seek the Lord of the -Daybreak!' cried the treacherous guide; then -he reached the Jellalabad side in safety and -vanished—pony and all. -</p> - -<p> -All was confusion, consternation, and -death now, for the water, flowing at the -rate of nine miles an hour, had risen to -the saddle bows and holsters of the Hussars, -whose spirited horses, finding their footing -gone, ignored the use of spur and bridle. -</p> - -<p> -The line of the ford was lost now; the -current pouring over it soon forced the -horses downward into deeper water, sweeping -the squadron away towards the swifter -rapids, and in a mass of confusion our -gallant Hussars, with their terrified horses, -were struggling desperately and madly for -existence, under the dim moonlight and -amid the fiercely rushing waters, while the -bewildered Bengal Lancers could only sit -in their saddles and look helplessly on. -</p> - -<p> -An officer whose horse had kicked Robert -Wodrow, rendering him nearly insensible, -failed to escape, and both were swept away, -so, natheless, his reckless quotation from -St. Luke's Gospel, there was to be no -'to-morrow' for the latter. -</p> - -<p> -Captain D'Esterre Spottiswoode—afterwards -colonel—was mounted on a very -splendid and powerful horse, which was -able to swim well, and bore him to the -other bank in safety, but not to the end of -the ford. -</p> - -<p> -In dangerous quicksands it sank twice -to its girth, on the last occasion falling on -its rider, whose head was thrust so far -below water that he was nearly drowned -ere he scrambled breathlessly to dry land. -</p> - -<p> -Colville, who had been riding with the -captain and three subalterns at the head -of the troop, which mustered seventy-six -sabres, felt his horse become restive when -the water flowed over his holsters; the -animal kicked and plunged till at last he -was thrown off its back, and found himself -floundering in deep water. Being a -good swimmer he thought to get rid of -his sword and belt, but failed, as he sank -each time in making the attempt, and each -time he came to the surface with an -invocation to heaven on his lips. -</p> - -<p> -The men in the squadron were all in -heavy marching order, fully accoutred and -supplied with ammunition—circumstances -sufficient to drag down a good swimmer -even in smooth water. Nearly all were -thrown by their terrified horses, which, as -they rolled over and over, lashed out with -their hoofs, maiming and stunning many -of our poor fellows as they were swept -into the dark rushing current of the -rapids, and where these ceased lay a little -pool of deep water, and there it was that -all who had strength left to struggle -succeeded in reaching the land, but many -failed, alas! -</p> - -<p> -As Colville was swept downward, while -in the desperate agonies of seeking to save -his own life, he could take in the terrible -details of the tragedy, and saw how the -river was crowded with men, horses, and -white helmets rolling past; how heads, -hands, and spurred heels rose momentarily -and vanished to rise again, and then sink -for ever beneath the cruel and greedy -current. -</p> - -<p> -Amid all this scene of death and horror, -there came not one cry from our perishing -hussars; each battled with the waters -of the hostile river as they would have -battled with the Afghans. -</p> - -<p> -Colville struck out to reach the bank, -after he sank a third time; but, encumbered -by his heavy boots and putties (or -leg bandages), his sword, revolver, and -ammunition, he was unable to keep himself -afloat, and the agony of a helpless -death was in his heart! -</p> - -<p> -He knew that at the time all this was -happening Mary Wellwood would probably -be sleeping, sweetly and peacefully, -on her pillow; and even in that moment -of supreme anguish and terror, he wished -that if death came, his soul might flash -home to her in a dream—a farewell dream! -</p> - -<p> -He felt himself sinking at last, as he had -only been getting occasional breaths of -air; the last of his strength seemed going, -and all hope with it, when suddenly his -feet touched the bottom, and a prayer rose -to his lips. -</p> - -<p> -Rousing himself for a final effort, he -pushed forward, and hope began again to -dawn on him as he found the water -getting shallower; but he was too weak to -reach the river's bank, and, grasping some -wild jasmine trailers that grew between -two boulders, he propped himself up to -rest and breathe. -</p> - -<p> -At this point, seeing neither man nor -horse near him, he thought that all must -have perished—perished through the -diabolical hatred and treachery of Mahmoud -Shah! -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly he heard a voice cry out, -</p> - -<p> -'Is this you, Captain Colville?' -</p> - -<p> -The questioner, whose grammar was not -very choice, proved to be the hussar Toby -Chace, who was sitting bareheaded, dripping, -and disconsolate on the river bank. -</p> - -<p> -Colville was almost voiceless, so Toby -waded in, and assisted him to dry land, -where he could scarcely stand from -exhaustion, but was able ultimately, with -the assistance of Chace, to reach the camp, -where he found that his horse had arrived -before him. -</p> - -<p> -All the troop horses were heard to snort -wildly as the current swept them away, -and, being overweighted by their saddles, -the slung carbines, and other trappings, -they beat the air with their hoofs as -they rolled about; but only twelve were -drowned. -</p> - -<p> -When the roll was called, forty-six -hussars, who would never hear it again, -were missing, with Lieutenant Harford -and another officer. Many of their bodies, -when found, showed broken limbs, the result -of kicks from iron-shod hoofs, and many -of them had their hands raised to their -heads, either for protection or through -pain from blows, and in that position -they had stiffened in death. -</p> - -<p> -One poor fellow was swept a long way -down the Cabul river, but clambered into -a native boat, where he was found next -day, dead from exhaustion and cold. -</p> - -<p> -'An awful calamity! A devil of a -business!' -</p> - -<p> -'How did it happen? Whose fault was it?' -</p> - -<p> -Such were a few of the exclamations -heard on every hand in camp, from whence, -on the first arrival of the riderless horses, -soldiers had rushed to the river side with -lanterns and ropes, and staff-surgeons with -restoratives. -</p> - -<p> -Ten rupees reward was offered for every -body recovered from that fatal river, and -some were buried severally near the places -where they were found. Colville made -many inquiries about that of Robert -Wodrow, as the one in whom he was personally -most interested, but no trace of him -could be discovered. -</p> - -<p> -In one eddy of the river nineteen of -our gallant hussars were found huddled -together in one ghastly heap. -</p> - -<p> -These and the bodies of others were all -buried in one vast grave at the western -end of the camp; and those who saw that -solemn scene—that grim row of bodies, -each rolled in a blanket, and lying side -by side in close ranks, shoulder to -shoulder—never forgot it. -</p> - -<p> -Neither did they forget the funeral -service of the following evening, when -the body of Lieutenant Francis H. Harford -and that of a private of the Leicestershire -Regiment, who had been mortally -wounded in action, were interred about -dusk. -</p> - -<p> -Solemn and strikingly impressive was -the episode. -</p> - -<p> -The red Afghan sun had set amid dim -and sombre clouds beyond the snow-clad -summits of the Ramkoond Mountains, but -some ruddy light yet lingered on the -awful peaks of the Suffaidh Koh. There -had been rain and thunder all afternoon, -and the clouds were gathered in sombre -masses that were edged by the radiance -of the now nearly full moon. -</p> - -<p> -Athwart the clouds ever and anon shot -gleams of ghastly lightning, producing -strange and sudden effects of light and -shade, adding to the weird effect of the -funeral cortĂ©ge—the coffins on gun-carriages, -draped with the Union Jack, followed -by officers and other mourners in -long, spectral-like cloaks, preceded by the -dark-clad band of the Rifle Brigade playing -a low and wailing dirge-like piece of -music. -</p> - -<p> -So ended the tragedy of the 10th Hussars. -</p> - -<p> -In the meantime, in perfect ignorance of -that event, our troops under Macpherson -and Gough had proceeded to the scene of -their services elsewhere, to fight the -Khugianis and win the battle of Futteabad, -which, as Leslie Colville was not present, -lies somewhat apart from our story. -</p> - -<p> -After the defeat of the Khugianis and -the subsequent dispersal of the Afreedis, -the summer of the year was drawing on, -and as Yakoub Khan showed a disposition -to come to terms with Great Britain, and -the hostilities seemed to be drawing to a -close, Leslie Colville began fondly to hope -that he might with honour resign his -appointment for 'special service,' and return -home after the treaty of peace was signed. -</p> - -<p> -The negotiations for the latter were -placed in the hands of Major Louis Cavagnari, -and, after some hesitation on the -part of the new Ameer, it was eventually -signed in the British camp at Gundamack—that -place of ill-omen, where the Red -Hill of <i>Lal Teebah</i> marks the spot on -which the last men of Elphinston's army -perished under Afghan steel in the year -1842. -</p> - -<p> -Its chief objects were to place the -foreign affairs of Afghanistan under British -control, and to guarantee that country -against Russian aggression by the aid -of our money, arms, and troops, to -provide for the maintenance of a British -Embassy in the dominions of the Ameer, -and other details. -</p> - -<p> -Thus the war came to an end—as Mary -Wellwood, with many more at home, read -with joy, and our troops in the valley of -Jellalabad were withdrawn within the new -frontier, lest the prolonged presence of -foreigners might inflame the ready -susceptibilities of the fiery Afghans, and render -them less amenable to the influence of -Ayoub Khan. -</p> - -<p> -For some reasons the latter was suffered -to depart from Gundamack to Cabul -alone, and the despatch thither of a -British resident was deferred for a time. -When the time came, Leslie Colville—afterwards -to his own great regret—instead -of resigning and returning home, -suffered himself to be named in general -orders as one of the staff to accompany -the new Resident—Major, then Sir Louis -Cavagnari—on that perilous and, as it -proved, most fatal and calamitous mission, -and when Mary heard of it she sighed -bitterly with apprehension, she knew not of -what. -</p> - -<p> -'He should not have allowed himself to -be thus prevailed upon—surely he has -done enough for honour, by winning his -Victoria Cross!' exclaimed Mrs. Deroubigne, -with surprise, and poor Mary quite -agreed with her; but Colville was under -certain military influences which they -could not quite understand. -</p> - -<p> -Thus he wrote to Mary, stating that, -when once the Embassy was fairly established, -he would lose no time in returning -home. -</p> - -<p> -'Does he not know how I am yearning -for him,' thought the girl in her heart. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap17"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XVII. -<br /><br /> -LOST. -</h3> - -<p> -Damped and disconcerted by the sudden -hopelessness of his regard for Mary -Wellwood on learning that she was betrothed -to another, the young baron—after leaving -cards subsequent to the night of the -ball—did not visit the villa so frequently as -had been his wont; but the society there -was so pleasant and attractive, that he -began to drop in during the afternoons and -evenings for a little music and singing, -in both of which, like most foreigners, he -could bear his part very well. -</p> - -<p> -That Ellinor had undergone some -grief—he knew not precisely what it -was—he was perfectly aware, but her story -was not one on which Mrs. Deroubigne -cared to enlighten him fully. He could -also see that she wore black or sombre -dresses, with suites of jet ornaments, for -Ellinor felt that to do so was at least all -that she might indulge in, as a proper -tribute to the memory of one who had -loved her well. -</p> - -<p> -The sisters were to have been photographed -in their sixteenth century ball -costumes for the delectation of Colville; -but this frivolity they abandoned after -hearing of Robert Wodrow's catastrophe. -</p> - -<p> -Ellinor often recalled the night of that -brilliant festivity, when she had waltzed -and promenaded to and fro as one in a -dream of delight, and spoke in a hushed -tone as if she feared to waken from it to a -real and commonplace life, for never before -had she been in so gay and glittering a -paradise; but now that was all over—gone -like a dissolving view, and she could but -think of the poor heart that had loved her -so well and so fondly now lying cold -and stiff in the waters of the Cabul -river. -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Deroubigne knew of Robert Wodrow -only by name. Thus her natural -equanimity on the subject of his fate, -combined with her social qualities and -equally natural brightness, helped much -to calm, even to soothe, the equally natural -grief, and also perhaps the remorse of -Ellinor, who, of course, became in time -composed and consoled over the inevitable, -though she was still too terrified or too -much pained to write to his parents—a -task which she relegated to Mary. -</p> - -<p> -And in her quiet and subdued grief, most -generous, unvaryingly kind and sympathetic -was young Rolandsburg, though he -knew not quite the cause from which it -sprang; and charmed by her sadness, -softness, and beauty, finding that the elder -sister was lost to him, it seemed to -Mrs. Deroubigne that he was already turning -his attention to the younger. -</p> - -<p> -Ellinor had—as she said to Mary—wept -her eyes out for poor Bob Wodrow; -and thus, after a time, the elasticity of her -volatile nature began to reassert itself, to -the delight of the baron. -</p> - -<p> -Nature, we are told, abhors a vacuum; so -did the heart of the handsome young -Uhlan; hence he adopted a new <i>rĂ´le</i> in -his bearing to Ellinor, all the more easily -and all the more readily that he had not -committed himself with Mary. -</p> - -<p> -Blooming as the German girls are, -Ellinor's softer beauty was a new experience -to him; she was like a tea-rose, a sea-shell, -a wonderfully delicate and tinted bit -of feminine nature, and as before, he first -made Mrs. Deroubigne his confidant. -</p> - -<p> -'Ah, madame!' said he, clasping his -hands melodramatically, while drooping his -head on one side till it nearly touched his -gilt shoulderstrap, 'I suppose she could -not understand anyone dying of love—of -love of her?' -</p> - -<p> -'I think not,' replied Mrs. Deroubigne, -laughing excessively at this leading remark -when remembering that he had been in the -mood of 'dying for love' of Mary but some weeks before. -</p> - -<p> -Yet he was a pleasant, handsome fellow, -with so much <i>bonhommie</i> about him that it -was impossible not to be pleased with him, -all the more that the iron cross on his -breast showed that he had comported -himself gallantly in the field. -</p> - -<p> -'The Fraulein Ellinor is very cold and -very calm,' said he; 'she can take a man's -heart—take all his love and give him none in return.' -</p> - -<p> -'It is not so,' replied Mrs. Deroubigne. -</p> - -<p> -'How, madame, then?' -</p> - -<p> -'You do not know her story; but why -should I recur to it?' -</p> - -<p> -'Her story—she has had, then, an <i>affaire -du coeur</i>?' -</p> - -<p> -'One at least, certainly,' said Mrs. Deroubigne, -laughing again at the baron's -expression of face and tone of pique. -</p> - -<p> -'Der Teufel! One at least? How sad -it is to think of a young lady having a -story! And this—or these—render her -indifferent to me?' -</p> - -<p> -'Perhaps,' replied Mrs. Deroubigne, who, -much as she liked the young Prussian, did -not wish to flatter his hopes, but he was -not the less resolved to put the matter to -the issue. -</p> - -<p> -Calling one afternoon when Mrs. Deroubigne -and Mary had driven into Hamburg, -he intercepted Ellinor in the garden, with -her little camp-stool, easel, and colour-box, -about to go forth and sketch; and though -he had but a few minutes to spare, as his -horse was at the gate to take him back to -barracks, he resolved to utilise them. -</p> - -<p> -Shaded from the declining sun by a -broad garden-hat, he thought Ellinor's -face never looked so charming before. -Her eyes were peculiarly her greatest -beauty; they were of the clearest and -most luminous hazel—not very dark, and -sweetly trustful and straightforward in -expression; but they drooped now and -sought the flower-beds, for something she -read in those of young Rolandsburg told -her what was coming. -</p> - -<p> -In the physical nature of some people -who love keenly there is a mysterious -sympathy that draws them together, and -the baron, thinking that she was inspired -by that now, put out his hand to touch -hers, but she withdrew it. -</p> - -<p> -This was not encouraging, but he drew -nearer her half-averted ear, and whispered -bluntly enough, but tremulously, nevertheless, -</p> - -<p> -'This is a great joy finding you -alone—alone, that I may tell you what I have -been longing—dying to tell you for weeks -past—that I love you, Ellinor, and you -only!' -</p> - -<p> -In his foreign accent and half-broken -English, the avowal sounded very pretty -and simple, but did not touch Ellinor -much, though she trembled and grew pale, -for no woman can have such things said -to her and remain quite unmoved. -</p> - -<p> -'Love <i>me</i>—how strange!' said she, -scarcely knowing what to say. -</p> - -<p> -'To you it may seem so,' he continued, -slowly and earnestly; 'for I know or -suspect that you cherish some dead—some -mysterious memory, and that you cannot -or may not care for me as I wish you to -do; but that does not prevent me from -loving you, and you may never understand, -even dimly, how much I do love -you, and I can keep this secret untold -no longer.' -</p> - -<p> -'I respect you much, baron,' replied -Ellinor, for his declaration was more -formal than impetuous; 'but mere talking -to me will not make me love you in return. -I feel quite confused—most unhappy to -hear all this; and we shall have to go -away from Altona.' -</p> - -<p> -'Go from Altona?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes.' -</p> - -<p> -'I only tell you because I can not -control—can not help myself,' said he, -humbly and sadly, and not without an -emotion of pique at the ill-luck of his second venture. -</p> - -<p> -'I thank you, baron, but it cannot be,' -said Ellinor, shaking her pretty head decidedly. -</p> - -<p> -'You cannot—love me.' -</p> - -<p> -'No—not as you wish.' -</p> - -<p> -'Well,' said he, after a pause, during -which he had been eyeing her downcast -face with an expression of disappointment -and chagrin, 'be it so; but I trust you -will pardon any unpleasantness my -perhaps abrupt avowal has occasioned you; -and I also trust that in the future you -will always view me as your friend—as -one who will ever be ready and eager to -hold out the hand of a brother to you, -Miss Ellinor. Even with that conviction -I shall be happy,' he added, with a voice -that certainly broke a little with emotion. -</p> - -<p> -She now gave her hand frankly, and he -pressed it kindly, and then, proceeding to -fill with tobacco his consolatory meerschaum -pipe (that dangled at his button-hole) -prior to riding back to the Dammthor -Wall, he said, with a sigh, -</p> - -<p> -'Ach—I will get over this, no doubt!' -</p> - -<p> -'As you must have got over others, no -doubt,' said Ellinor, laughing now, but -piqued by his philosophy, and to see that -he could so calmly canvass the prospect of -ceasing to care for her already. But what -does it matter? Robert Wodrow had loved -her as no man had ever loved her, and -what had been <i>his</i> reward? -</p> - -<p> -'Now leave me, please, baron,' she said, -a little bluntly; 'the tide is far out, and I -wish to sketch the creek and villa from -yonder bank of dry sand ere the sun sets.' -</p> - -<p> -'I must go—for parade awaits me; but -must I recur to this dear subject no -more?' -</p> - -<p> -'Yes—no more,' said Ellinor, with decision, -yet with a smile nevertheless. -</p> - -<p> -The baron felt that all was over when he -saw that smile; indeed, when with Ellinor, -he always felt that he was in the presence -of some feeling deeper than he could -fathom; and, bowing low, he turned sadly -away. Then in a few minutes the clatter of -his horse's hoofs was heard as he cantered -off towards the Millernthor, and so ended -another little romance in Ellinor's life—at -least, she thought so. And the baron -knew that now never again could they -enjoy each other's society as they had -done so innocently till that afternoon. -</p> - -<p> -Proceeding over the firm dry sand left -by the far retreating tide, she selected a -point upon a rough pebble-covered knoll, -a quarter of a mile from the little wooded -creek, set her sketching-block upon her -tiny easel, and, seating herself upon a -little camp-stool, proceeded, with her back -to the setting sun, to outline the creek, -with the trees, the garden, and sandy beach -in foreground, and the villa in the middle -distance. -</p> - -<p> -She was very full of her work, to have -it as a souvenir of Altona, but it proceeded -very, very slowly; she was too full of the -late episode to do much with her pencil—much -successfully at least, and paused -ever and anon to sink into deep thought -over the past, the present, and the future. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -When Mary and Mrs. Deroubigne returned -home to a late dinner, Ellinor was -not to be seen, she was not in the villa, -and she was not in the garden, nor in -the adjacent shrubberies, so the house-bell -was rung for her in vain; and to -Mrs. Deroubigne, Ellinor, always dreamy, -delicate, and in temperament excitable, had -been somewhat of a responsibility, more -than her sister Mary. -</p> - -<p> -Dinner was served up, but remained -on the table untasted, while search after -search was made without avail, and sunset -was at hand. -</p> - -<p> -She had last been seen in the garden, -with Baron Rolandsburg, with her drawing -materials and apparatus, going forth to sketch. -</p> - -<p> -With the baron! -</p> - -<p> -'Could she have eloped with him?' -thought Mary, while her heart sank—recalling -Ellinor's former folly—the folly -she had been on the brink of committing -with Sir Redmond Sleath. -</p> - -<p> -Oh, that was very unlikely! Ellinor -was a changed girl, and less confiding, -and the young baron was too confident -in himself, his position, wealth, and -resources to love mystery or mischief when -neither were needed. -</p> - -<p> -A presentiment of evil—an emotion that -she could not have explained—came over -Mary's mind. Vainly she sought to settle -her thoughts to some fixity of purpose. -A vague terror seized her, and she could -scarcely even think. -</p> - -<p> -She remembered when Ellinor was ill -how the tolling of the Passing Bell in the -adjacent church appalled her with the -dread that she was about to lose her—her -only relation in the world; and had -she lost her now? -</p> - -<p> -'Was she going far to sketch?' Mrs. Deroubigne -suddenly inquired of her now -scared domestics. -</p> - -<p> -'No, madame! Only to the sands beside -the river, when the tide was out.' -</p> - -<p> -'The tide!' exclaimed Mrs. Deroubigne; -and, accompanied by Mary, she rushed to -the foot of the garden, to find the creek -full and the Elbe at flood tide and more. -</p> - -<p> -'My God—oh, what can have happened?' -exclaimed Mrs. Deroubigne, who -was aware of a periodical event of which -Mary knew nothing. -</p> - -<p> -It was this. When the wind is from -the west, and especially if violent, the -waters of the Elbe become swollen to such -a degree that the canals of Hamburg -overflow their banks, the cellars, magazines -and all channels, become gorged and -inundated—that, in fact, the tide suddenly -rises, sometimes to the height of twenty -feet, with a rapidity that is alike -dangerous and terrible. So the gorged tide, -swollen by the incoming waves of the -German Sea, was rolling inshore now, and -Ellinor had been on the sands—the -temporary dry sands, to sketch! -</p> - -<p> -A wild waste of water was rolling and -boiling there now, and where was she? -</p> - -<p> -'Ellinor—oh, Ellinor!' cried Mary, again -and again, in a voice of agony; but, save -the sough of the waves, there was no -response. -</p> - -<p> -Soaked to pulp her sketch-book was -found at the foot of the creek washed -inshore, and, if other evidence of a tragedy -was wanting, something was seen floating -in the oozy waves about ten yards -distant. -</p> - -<p> -Jack, the terrier—that dog which had -such amazing facility for getting into -canine troubles—sprang in, and yapping -and yelping laid that something at the feet -of his mistress, who recognised at once her -sister's garden-hat; and a low cry of -despair escaped Mary as she turned it over -in her trembling hands, and painfully and -vividly it brought before her the face, -figure, and whole individuality of the lost -one. -</p> - -<p> -A torrent of tears escaped Mrs. Deroubigne, -but Mary seemed to have lost the -power to shed one. -</p> - -<p> -Even as the angry waves came rolling -into the creek, so did wave after wave of -sorrow seem to be coming upon her again, -dark and sharp as ever. -</p> - -<p> -'Oh, Lord—how long—how long!' she -wailed in her heart. -</p> - -<p> -She stretched out her hands as if -clutching the air for support, she swayed -a little, and then, her strength failing her, -she would have fallen on her pallid face -had not Mrs. Deroubigne caught her fast -in her motherly arms. -</p> - -<p> -Night drew on and day came again without -a trace of the lost one, dead or alive. -</p> - -<p> -Baron Rolandsburg, who was appalled -by a catastrophe so sudden and unforeseen, -corroborated the story that she had gone -on the stretch of dry sand to sketch, and -no doubt remained till the sudden tide -had overtaken and overwhelmed her! -</p> - -<p> -He now made himself invaluable in his -exertions for intelligence. Rewards were -offered to boatmen and river-pilots, and in -the <i>Hamburger Nachrichten</i> and other -journals 'for her remains' (how horrible did -this sound), but unknown to Mary, who -was for several days and nights all but -unconscious. He also put himself into -communication with their <i>Herrshaften</i> -(their Excellencies) the four Burgomasters -and four Syndics, and the Gendermerie, -but all in vain. -</p> - -<p> -Other traces of Ellinor than those which -the hungry waves had washed to Mary's -feet were never found! -</p> - -<p> -The latter was now a prey to two emotions, -when a time came that she could consider -calmly. One was an intense longing to -get away from Altona as a place which -had now become hateful to her, as the -scene of so much sadness; and the other -was an affectionate repugnance to leave it, -until her sister's fate was made certain, -and her remains found. -</p> - -<p> -But the latter might have been washed -out to sea, and never—never might be -heard of more. -</p> - -<p> -The inexorable had to be accepted, but -we fear that poor Mary Wellwood could -not do so with the calmness of a disciple -of Epictitus, the stoic. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap18"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XVIII. -<br /><br /> -THE SEQUEL. -</h3> - -<p> -Ellinor's sketching, as we have said, did -not progress much. -</p> - -<p> -She was full of thoughts, yet none of -pride, of flattered vanity, or exultation -were in her mind, but a dull and curious -sense of fear and shame—a vague -consciousness of doubt and wrong. -</p> - -<p> -Could it be that she—unwittingly—had -in any way given encouragement to this -young baron, or done aught that led up to -the sudden declaration he had made? -</p> - -<p> -She could not tax herself with having -done so. She liked him very much—who -would not that knew him?—he was so -suave, so gentle, and so manly. But love, -no—she had no heart for him; and how -were they to meet now, after this? -</p> - -<p> -She felt as if suddenly wakened from a -dream; but a more terrible awakening was -soon to come upon her. -</p> - -<p> -'Nonsense!' she thought; 'this silly -young officer must evidently love or flirt -with some one. Latterly it was Mary, -now it is Ellinor.' -</p> - -<p> -The Baron Rolandsburg was—as Sleath -had been in her eyes apparently—the -possessor of all she had wished for, and -learned to worship—position, rank, riches, -and luxury; but neither could love her as -poor Bob had done! And now Ellinor -was—when too late for the sake of the -latter—changed from a somewhat selfish -and frivolous girl into a woman of thought, -and one capable of much endurance and -self-sacrifice. -</p> - -<p> -Through Sir Redmond Sleath her pride -had received a severe shock; she had long -since come to loathe the very idea of him; -as for his name, it never escaped Mary or -Mrs. Deroubigne, and her soul sickened -when she thought of all she had sacrificed -for his unworthy sake, and of the horrible -pitfall he had prepared for her. -</p> - -<p> -But why recall these things now, she -thought, as she resumed her pencil. -</p> - -<p> -The deep red tints of the golden sun, -setting amid fiery haze beyond the Elbe -and the tiny hills of Hanover, lay in all -their richness on the creek, on the villa -and its flowers and shrubs: on Altona in -the background, with all its rows of -poplars and pointed roofs; and Ellinor often -paused in her work, and, wooed by the -lap, lap, lapping and murmur of the tide, -sank into a kind of dream. -</p> - -<p> -The present fled—the past returned. -</p> - -<p> -She no longer saw the rows of lofty -poplars, the long <i>Palmaille</i>, and the great -church of Altona, or the house on the hill -where Dumourier dwelt. She was back in -the old summer garden of Birkwoodbrae, -with the fragrance of its roses and -honeysuckle around her; she heard the familiar -hoot of Mary's pet owl—the owl that -Robert Wodrow had risked his life to -secure; she heard again the murmur of the -May and the song of the thrush mingling -with the rustle of the silver birches that -shadowed the roof under which her parents -died. -</p> - -<p> -So, lulled by the beauty of the evening, -by the warmth of the sunshine, and the -murmuring wavelets of the glorious river, -she dropped asleep. -</p> - -<p> -She could not have sat thus above -twenty minutes when she was suddenly -awakened by the flow of water over her -ankles, and, starting up, found herself -surrounded by water—water on all sides, -and water between her and the shore, -which was nearly a quarter of a mile -distant, but seemed to be much further off, -the once dry sands being now covered by -the incoming flood-tide—a tide that flowed -with exceeding violence and fury. -</p> - -<p> -A half-stifled shriek escaped her, and -she started to her feet. Her easel had been -swept away; she attempted to run -shorewards; but as the water deepened and -rose to her knees she uttered a despairing -cry, and rushed back to the sandy knoll -on which she had planted her chair, and -over which the encroaching water was -rising and deepening with every inward -flow of the waves. -</p> - -<p> -She was lost! -</p> - -<p> -From the beach (that seemed now so -awfully distant) not a soul seemed to -observe her terrible predicament. -</p> - -<p> -From being shrill and continuous, her -despairing shrieks became hoarse and faint, -and, worse than all, the wind seemed to -sweep them seaward. Wild and black -despair, with the terror of immediate -death, filled her heart. What terrible -retribution was this? Was she to perish -by drowning—to die the same death that -Robert Wodrow had died—to perish and -leave poor Mary alone in the world—all -alone! -</p> - -<p> -She parted the rich brown hair from -her brow, and, casting her eyes upward -to the flushed evening sky, prayed for -strength to die, and for submission to the -will of heaven; and, even as she prayed, a -wave that rolled nearly to her knees made -her stagger. The sandy knoll was -completely covered, and the water was rising -fast. -</p> - -<p> -A very few minutes more and she would -be swept off her feet, to sink and drown! -Across the waters of the broad river, the -red sun, now level with them and the flat -horizon, shed his dazzling rays into her -eyes, that were becoming half-blinded by -the rising spoon drift torn from the waves -by the storm. -</p> - -<p> -It all seemed an unreality—a horrid -nightmare. -</p> - -<p> -She heard, or imagined she heard, a cry -of encouragement—of coming succour; -but, blinded by terror and despair, she -knew not whence it came, whether from -the land or the water. -</p> - -<p> -A numbness seemed to creep fast over -her—a sensation, or rather the want of it, -that threatened speedily to paralyse alike -thought and feeling. -</p> - -<p> -Human endurance, in the weak and -delicate form of the girl, could stand no -more; an incoming wave, stronger than -the rest, struck her above the waist, and -she fell backwards into the water, and, as -the latter rose over her head, her senses -left her, and darkness closed around her. -</p> - -<p> -Anon she breathed again, and the light -flashed into her eyes. She found herself -in a boat, encircled by the strong and -protecting arm of a man, and closed her -eyes with an invocation to heaven, -believing that she was being rowed shoreward, -for she could hear the regular dash -of the oar-blades, and the hard breathing -of those who pulled them; but she -remained passive and voiceless, with closed -eyes, incapable of volition, almost of -thought, and certainly of speech. -</p> - -<p> -After a brief space the boat jarred -against something. It was the side of a -vessel, and she felt herself lifted -upward—up—up—and placed in the arms of a -man, whose exclamation gave her a species -of electric shock. -</p> - -<p> -It was the voice of Sir Redmond Sleath, -and it was his astonished and certainly -bewildered face that she found close to -her own when she opened her eyes, only -to shut them once more, as weakness and -horror took away her senses again. -</p> - -<p> -<i>Sleath!</i> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap19"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XIX. -<br /><br /> -THE HAKIM ABOU AYOUB. -</h3> - -<p> -'I am on the eve of departing with Sir -Louis Cavagnari to Cabul,' Colville had -written. 'With his mission the chances -of future war are over, and then I can -come home with honour—home to you, -love Mary.' -</p> - -<p> -But while the British troops were now -retiring from every point within the new -frontier, Colville, to whom activity or -action of any kind was a species of relief -till he could once again see her whose -varying expression of feature defied alike -artist or photographer to fix or do justice -to, gladly undertook to convey to the -viceroy at Simla that letter from the -Ameer which brought the embassy into -existence—the embassy which was -doomed to have such a fatal end—and a -portion of that fulsome, false, and deluding -document ran as follows, after the usual -solemn invocation which preludes every -chapter of the Koran, and the words of -which, when sent down from Heaven, -caused, says Giaab, the clouds to fly -eastward, the winds to lull, the sea to moan, -all the animals of the earth to erect their -ears and listen, while the devils fell -headlong from the celestial spheres:— -</p> - -<p> -'Be it known unto your High Excellency -that since the day of my arrival in -Cabul from the British camp at Gundamuck -I have been happy and pleased with -the reception accorded me by the British -officers. I had resolved to visit Simla and -give myself the boundless pleasure of a -joyous interview with your Excellency, for -the purpose of strengthening our friendly -relations, but circumstances prevented me -carrying my intention into effect... -After completing my tour through the -country, during which I shall inspect the -frontiers, I intend, God willing, to have a -joyful meeting with your Excellency, for -the purpose of making firmer the basis -of our friendship and drawing closer the -bonds of our amity and affection. -</p> - -<p> -'Further, what can I write, beyond -expressions of friendship?' -</p> - -<p> -So, encouraged by this letter, which was -framed in the genuine Oriental spirit of -fraud and treachery, a brilliant embassy -was arranged. -</p> - -<p> -After delivering to the viceroy, the -letter with which he had been entrusted -at head-quarters, Leslie Colville lingered -for a few days at beautiful Simla, where -the Court Sanatorium is in a deep and -woody dell, called—doubtless by some -old Scottish officer—Annandale, where the -forests are thickly inhabited by grinning -baboons, having white bodies with black -hands and feet, and where a savage tribe, -named the Puharries, dwell among the -hills, some of which are so vast—though -mere vassals of the Himalayas—as to seem -like the barriers of the world on the left -bank of the Indus, from which they slope -down to the steppes of Tartary, the deserts -of Gobi, and the marshes of Siberia; and -then he hastened again to the front to -join Cavagnari. -</p> - -<p> -The embassy and escort, the fate of -which will never be forgotten in the -history of British India, consisted of -seventy-six men of the brilliant Guide Corps, -twenty-six of whom were troopers, the -rest infantry, under Lieutenant Hamilton, -V.C. Their uniform was drab colour, -piped and faced with scarlet. The -ambassador was accompanied also by a staff -of medical and other officers, including -his secretary, Mr. William Jenkyns, of the -Punjaub Civil Service. -</p> - -<p> -All set out on their perilous though -apparently peaceful mission in high glee, -while the master spirit of the whole was -Major Sir Louis Cavagnari, then in his -thirty-seventh year, a gallant officer who had -served with the Bengal Europeans in the -Oude campaign, was present at the -capture of a brigade of guns at Shahelutgunge, -and served with the Kohat column -at the capture and destruction of Gara. -</p> - -<p> -He was popular personally with the -natives, as he could speak several of their -languages with fluency, while his bronzed -features and dark hair enabled him to -assume when he chose, any Oriental -costume with facility, and thus he was -invaluable in all cases where courage, -promptitude, and adroit demeanour were -necessary. -</p> - -<p> -All our columns having, as stated, fallen -back, the only British troops now beyond -the new frontier of Afghanistan were his -slender escort, with which he left Ali -Musjid on the 17th of June, and rode through -the savage defiles of the Khyber Pass by -Lalpura, Chardeh, and once more in sight -of Jellalabad, pursuing the course and -bank of the Cabul river. -</p> - -<p> -They had now traversed about sixty -miles of their journey amid some of the -most stupendous scenery in the world, -and the evening of the second day's march -was closing in when, near the Surkab, a -stream which joins the Cabul at the foot -of the Siah Koh, a man was seen gesticulating -violently and making signs to them, -on which the whole party halted in -obedience to command. -</p> - -<p> -Was he the harbinger of danger, the -announcer of an ambush; had armed <i>sungahs</i> -been formed across the path, or what? -</p> - -<p> -Carbines were unslung, revolver cases -opened, sword-blades loosened in the -sheath, and there were whispers of treachery -on every hand, and every man's face -darkened, and his brows were knit, in -anticipation of a barbarous struggle and having -to sell his life dearly, for they were all -picked and tried soldiers, second to none -in Her Majesty's Indian army for daring -and discipline. All were splendid -horsemen too—the mounted guides—and, like -their infantry, picturesque-looking fellows -in their uniform and bearing. -</p> - -<p> -'The man is not an Afghan, but a European, -so far as one can judge by his face,' -said Colville, who, with his bridle reins -dropped on his holsters, had been using -his field-glasses intently. -</p> - -<p> -'He wears a scarlet <i>loonjee</i>,' said another -officer, 'and his dress seems a uniform. -Strange, is it not?' -</p> - -<p> -'By heaven, he is one of the 10th -Hussars!' exclaimed Colville. -</p> - -<p> -'What is he doing here? His regiment -fell back with the rest of the army -weeks—yes, two months—ago. Can he be a -deserter?' suggested Hamilton. -</p> - -<p> -'Scarcely, when making for us in this -frantic fashion,' replied Colville. -</p> - -<p> -He came close up to the party, and, -halting within ten paces, saluted. Then -all could see that he was a hussar, but -wan, pale, bearded, and with his braided -uniform sorely worn and tattered. -</p> - -<p> -'Come on, my man,' cried Sir Louis -Cavagnari; 'come on and tell us how you -happen to be here?' -</p> - -<p> -'I am here through God's mercy, sir,' -replied the hussar, coming forward, adding, -'Captain Colville—Captain Colville, don't -you know me?' -</p> - -<p> -'Robert Wodrow—Heavens above!' -exclaimed the latter, holding out his hand, -which the former grasped warmly and -energetically; 'so you did not perish in -the river?' -</p> - -<p> -'It was a pretty close shave, sir,—I shall -never be nearer death again, but once,' -replied Wodrow, who seemed so faint that -he could scarcely stand, and received with -gratitude a pull from an officer's brandy flask. -</p> - -<p> -'Have you been a prisoner?' asked Cavagnari. -</p> - -<p> -'No, sir—I was long ill in the hands of -the enemy, and was well treated.' -</p> - -<p> -'Then you were not escaping?' -</p> - -<p> -'No, sir—but making my way to your -party when I saw it on the march, and I -blessed God when I first heard of it, for I -was told that the whole army had fallen -back, and that I—alone—was left behind.' -</p> - -<p> -'You are one of the Hussars who were -swept away at the ford?' queried an officer, -suspiciously. -</p> - -<p> -'Yes, sir, and my story is rather a long one.' -</p> - -<p> -'We shall hear it in a few minutes,' said -Sir Louis, and, riding on slowly, the party -reached the village of Balabagh, where it -halted for the night, and where the party -found quarters. -</p> - -<p> -The story of Robert Wodrow, who was -full of joy to find himself among comrades -again, was a very simple one, and, though -made in the form of a species of report or -explanation to Sir Louis Cavagnari as the -senior officer present, was principally -directed to Leslie Colville, whom, of course, -he viewed as a friend, and from whom he -heard, with no small dismay, of the actual -extent of the catastrophe to the squadron. -</p> - -<p> -Though kicked more than once by his -own charger after he fell into the stream, -he had, after a time, got his feet free from -the stirrups; but was swept away like a -cork by the current after he had passed -through the rapids. Being a good -swimmer, he contrived to keep his head above -water, but was incapable of reaching the -banks, as they were steep, rocky, and in -many places rose sheer like walls from the -bed of the Cabul. Thus he was borne for -nearly three miles below the point where -so many of his comrades perished; and, -feeling that he could struggle with fate no -more, was about to relinquish further -effort when suddenly voices caught his -ear; he saw some strange white figures -near the bank of the river—figures like -those of witches or spectres as seen by -the radiance of the stars (as the moon was -under a cloud now), and by some strange -and lambent lights that were floating -on the surface of the water, and in the -very midst of which he suddenly found -himself, but with a current which shallowed -so fast that he could make good his -footing. -</p> - -<p> -Among the Mahomedans and Hindoos -there is a pretty custom—which the former -have no doubt borrowed from the latter, -as they both practise it—of going to a -river or tank after the fulfilment of a vow, -and setting afloat, as an offering, small, -saucer-like lamps of earthenware, each -containing oil, with a lighted wick. -</p> - -<p> -After having said the <i>fatihar</i>, or necessary -prayers, they watch their votive lamps -as they float down the stream, and girls -often augur their success in love by the -steadiness of the journeying down the -darkening waters. -</p> - -<p> -There are certain seasons of the year, -such as the Shabibarat feast in the month -of Shaban, when this ceremony is carried -out on a vast and beautiful scale. -</p> - -<p> -It was a fleet of votive lamps amid -which Robert Wodrow now found himself, -and for a moment or two he had a striking -view of some groups of Indian girls clad -in white floating drapery, their long black -hair unbound, their arms bare to the -elbow, their other limbs to the knee, half -lost in shadow and half seen in light, upon -the steps of a Temple-ghaut—we say for a -moment or two only, as on beholding him -rising, as it were, from the water, they fled -with shrill cries of affright. -</p> - -<p> -Worn and faint, and heedless of what -became of him, he reached the marble -steps of the ghaut, and lay there for a -time oblivious of everything. -</p> - -<p> -When he recovered a little, though -well-nigh dead with cold and exhaustion, he -could see by the light of the moon, which -now shone out clearly, a tall, thin, and -venerable-looking Afghan bending over him. -</p> - -<p> -His ample beard was snowy white, his -eyes were keen and glittering, his features -were of the Jewish type peculiar to the -country, while his costume was that of the -primitive Afghan—wide pantaloons of blue -stuff, a brown camise with flowing sleeves, -and a black fur cap. -</p> - -<p> -Putting a hand on Wodrow's head, he -told him in Afghani—which is the Pushtu -language spoken by all the Afghans, and -the origin of which is unknown—to take -courage, as he would protect him; and -Robert Wodrow, having picked up a little -Sanscrit from his father, the old minister, -made a shift to understand him, and knew -also that he quoted the fourth chapter of -the Koran, which recommends charity and -protection to all helpless strangers. -</p> - -<p> -And between cold and exhaustion, added -to more than one kick from his horse, poor -Wodrow was helpless indeed, but he had -fortunately fallen into excellent hands—those -of Abou Ayoub, a good, pious, and -intelligent hakim, or physician of the adjacent -village, the inhabitants of which were friendly -to the British, or to anyone who would -protect them from the Afreedies on the one -hand and the Khyberees of the Suffaidh -Koh on the other, and for defence against -these the village, which consisted of a -mosque, a tank, and some sixty houses, -was surrounded by a strong wall pierced -with double rows of loopholes for musketry. -</p> - -<p> -He conveyed him to his house, and -there on a <i>charpoy</i>, or native truckle bed, -Robert Wodrow lay for days and weeks in -fever and delirium, attended by the hakim -and his three daughters and a Belooch -slave. The former had skill enough to -dose his patient with ipecacuanha, with -infusions of manna, and food, including -rice, tamarinds, and stewed prunes; but he -and they believed much more in sentences -of the Koran, written on paper, and washed -off into the drink he imbibed, which was -generally cool tamarind sherbet, that -proved in times of feverish thirst a delicious -draught, especially from the hands of -Ayesha, the eldest and prettiest daughter -of the three. -</p> - -<p> -Among the Afghans women are not -secluded from all male society, as they are -strictly in other Mahommedan communities, -for the women of the middle and -lower orders share in all the domestic -amusements of their husbands, who -generally content themselves with one wife, -and in the country the latter is unveiled. -</p> - -<p> -Young unmarried women are distinguished -by wearing their hair loose and by -their trousers being white. Thus Ayesha -and her two sisters wore their long black -hair loose, but interwoven with gold chains -and strings of Venetian sequins. And the -hakim, who never omitted an opportunity -of quoting the Koran, duly informed -Robert Wodrow that she was so named -from Ayesha—one of the four perfect -women, and a wife of Mahomet the -Prophet—a lady who had a very terrible -adventure in the sixth year of the Hejira. -</p> - -<p> -After a few weeks of their care, Robert -became convalescent. He was young, -courageous, and buoyant with hope; he -felt a trust in his own resources and -exertions, and, encouraged by the praise he -had won from Colville and other officers, -had begun to take a new interest in life—to -have some hope for the future, and a -desire to grapple with any difficulties and -dangers that lay before him; but certainly -he felt something akin to consternation -when informed by the hakim that the -Treaty of Gundamuck had been signed; -that Great Britain had made peace with -the Ameer; that all our troops had retired -towards the Indus, and that he himself -was left behind among the wild mountains -by the Surkhab, some seventy miles from -the frontier—a distance which he could -scarcely hope to traverse alone on foot in -safety, amid such perilous surroundings. -</p> - -<p> -'Death cometh to everyone—even though -he be in a lofty tower, saith the Koran, -but your time, Feringhee, is not come yet,' -said the Hakim Abou Ayoub to his guest, -while smiling at the scared expression of -his face. -</p> - -<p> -The house of Abou Ayoub was a low but -comfortable-looking building, surrounded -by groves of tall palm-trees; it had a flat -roof and a verandah, where Robert and the -Hakim sat at times in the evening smoking, -talking of the time when the former -must make an effort to get away, or -listening to the girls playing the saringa, or -native guitar, and singing monotonously -the odes of Rebman, the Khan of the -Khutticks. -</p> - -<p> -In this verandah the Hakim received -his poor patients, who gazed with wonder -and awe when the door of his sanctum -or surgery was open, though therein were -only a few boxes of books and drugs—a -great vase of rose-water, and a three-lipped -brass lamp suspended from a tall iron -rod—for with them the science of healing -was associated with something of sorcery -and witchcraft. Robert Wodrow, with -all the Hakim's kindness, wearied of the -routine of the daily life there—the -perpetual prayers and ablutions of his host. -At each meal the old man always poured -water into a brass basin, in which Robert -had to dip his hands ere he could plunge -them into the pilao, which Ayesha had -prepared; though, sooth to say, the -Hakim, after uttering the invariable -Bismillah, usually had his fingers in first, -selecting the most delicate morsels for his -guest, as knives and forks are unknown -in the land of Baber. Then would come -little cups of savoury curries, chutnees, -and sweetmeats; and, when evening fell, -ablutions again; a white cloth was spread -over the carpet, and, turning his bowed -face in the direction of Mecca, old Abou -Ayoub devoutly said his prayers for the -night. -</p> - -<p> -There is a language of the eye, and a -freemasonry when hand touches hand that -all women know or learn; and ere long -Robert Wodrow discovered, to his alarm, -that the eldest daughter of his host had -eyes for him alone—we say to his alarm, -for, if he did not respond, her heart might -grow revengeful. -</p> - -<p> -This made his situation perilous amid -society so strange, and more intently did -he long to be gone, though the girl was, -in her own way, very pretty, very fair -for an Afghan, and coquettishly wore the -brightest coloured camises, embroidered -vests, and laced trousers of the finest -muslin to attract him, -</p> - -<p> -When the Hakim was absent, there was -no mistaking her languishing demeanour, -which sorely perplexed the hussar. -</p> - -<p> -If she loved him, as he doubted not, he -at least did not know how to fall in love -again, and to what end could it be with -<i>her</i>? -</p> - -<p> -Too intensely had he passed through -the passion not to know how it was crushed -out of him by the agony of loss; and -he had but one desire, to get well and -strong, and at all risks evade this new -peril. -</p> - -<p> -One morning the Hakim came to him -with a face expressive of excitement and -pleasure; it was to announce that a -<i>tchopper</i>, or Cabulee mounted courier, had -ridden through the adjacent pass and seen -British troops marching north-westward -from Jellalabad. -</p> - -<p> -'British troops!' exclaimed Wodrow, -starting up, and at the moment in haste to -be gone. -</p> - -<p> -'Bismillah, not so fast, my son,' said the -Hakim; 'you must have food ere you go.' -</p> - -<p> -In haste Ayesha prepared for him a -<i>kafta kawab</i>, or dish of savoury meat balls, -with her own hands, and, unseen by Wodrow, -her tears dropped into the pipkin as -she did so; but he could scarcely eat of it, -he was in such haste to be gone. -</p> - -<p> -From the loopholes in the village wall -the Hakim showed him the gleam of arms -as a party of troops came defiling into the -narrow valley, through which the Surk-ab -flows to the Cabul river, and then they -wrung each other's hands in farewell. -</p> - -<p> -'Peace be upon you!' cried Wodrow, -who knew enough of the language to say this. -</p> - -<p> -'And likewise on you be peace and the -mercy of God!' cried the Hakim, in his -sonorous Afghani, and another moment -saw Robert Wodrow hurrying down the -hillside, and leaving the walled killa, or -village, fast behind him. -</p> - -<p> -'Things in this world wag strangely,' said -Robert Wodrow to Colville, and forgetting -that others heard him. 'As you may know, -I didn't care to live; but I pulled -through—pulled through when those with a happier -future and more hope might have succumbed.' -</p> - -<p> -What followed has already been narrated. -</p> - -<p> -'After the kindness of that old Hakim -to me, I shall ever think well of these -Afghan fellows in future,' said Robert. -</p> - -<p> -'Quite right too, Wodrow,' responded -Leslie Colville; 'but we have yet to see -how we get on with them at Cabul.' -</p> - -<p> -He had his doubts, and, curiously -enough, they were prophetic. -</p> - -<p> -With a sigh of genuine thankfulness, -Robert Wodrow accepted a few cigars -from the proffered case of young Hamilton, -of the Guides (a gallant fellow who had -already won the V.C.), as luxuries he had -not known for many a day. -</p> - -<p> -'And now for the march towards Cabul—nearly -eighty miles from the village of -Balabagh. As I have a spare horse, you -shall ride him, Wodrow,' said Colville. -</p> - -<p> -'I shall never forget your kindness, sir.' -</p> - -<p> -This was all Robert Wodrow said, but -his heart was very full, for Colville's -manner and bearing to him were kind and -considerate in the extreme; and he knew -that—the latter's generosity of nature -apart—much of this sprang from their -mutual regard for Mary and Ellinor Wellwood. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap20"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XX. -<br /><br /> -AT CABUL. -</h3> - -<p> -For Robert Wodrow to attempt to make -his way alone to where his regiment was -now quartered far in the rear, through -passes filled by savage tribes, was not to -be thought of; thus nothing was left for -him but to proceed with the ambassadors' -escort to Cabul. -</p> - -<p> -He was safe now, and had escaped from -that terrible catastrophe at the Ford of -Isaac; but poor Robert was only a corporal, -and the public papers barely recorded -the circumstance. Now he was once more -with Europeans; his whole bearing rapidly -changed; his weakness and illness seemed -to leave him, his step resumed its buoyancy, -his eyes their fire and, if sad, old -devil-may-care expression. -</p> - -<p> -Though Robert Wodrow, by enlisting in -the hussars, had opened a considerable -social gulf between himself and Captain -Leslie Colville of the Guards, it was -impossible for them both not to have many -sympathies in common; thus oblivious of -that gulf the two rode frequently together, -talking of the Wellwoods and the Birks of -Invermay, on the route by Gundamuck, -Suffaidh Sang, and Hazardaracht. -</p> - -<p> -On service the bonds of rank and even -of discipline, so to say, are often loosened, -for the experience of fighting side by side -makes the finest qualities of the soldier, -forming the true and loving link between -the officer and his men. It fires the sense -of <i>esprit-de-corps</i>, and blots out all the -ignobler phases of garrison and barrack -life, teaches self-reliance, inspires -<i>cameraderie</i> and patriotism, and makes men -less coarse in speech and kindlier to each -other in spirit, and more grave and earnest -with the work in hand. -</p> - -<p> -After halting for the night near -Hazardaracht, or the 'Place of the Thousand -Trees,' Sir Louis Cavagnari and his party -pushed upwards to the famous Shutargardan -Pass, which is eleven thousand -five hundred feet in height, and from -thence the road to Cabul lies through -narrow and rock-bound denies. -</p> - -<p> -Immediately below this mighty mountain -eminence lie lesser hills that diminish -in height as they slope down into a vast -plain in the richest state of cultivation, -dotted by numberless villages, all of the -most picturesque aspect. -</p> - -<p> -At Shutargardan the embassy found -themselves in the land of the powerful -and most warlike Ghilzie tribe, whose -fighting force was estimated at nearly two -hundred thousand men; but there they -were received with every outward honour -by an escort of the Ameer's regular troops, -whose equipment caused some surprise -and even merriment among the Europeans -of the escort. -</p> - -<p> -'By Jove, Colville, here are some -countrymen of yours!' cried a staff officer, -choking with laughter, as some of the -Ameer's 'Highlanders' presented arms. -</p> - -<p> -The Ameer had actually dressed a body -of his troops in tartan kilts, in imitation -of the Gordon Highlanders, whose costume -had greatly impressed him, and these -they wore over baggy cotton breeches; -while the cavalry who accompanied them -wore the same nether garments (minus -the kilt) with red tunics, white belts, and -helmets of soft grey felt, and in addition -to tulwar and pistols, every man rode with -a whip, the wooden handle of which, when -not required, was stuck into his right boot. -</p> - -<p> -They had smooth-bore carbines slung -over the right thigh, muzzle downwards. -</p> - -<p> -'A precious set of dark-looking duffers -they are,' was Robert Wodrow's off-hand -comment, as he surveyed them. -</p> - -<p> -Escorted by these troops, Sir Louis -Cavagnari and his companions continued -the remaining forty-five miles of the -journey to Cabul, passing Kushi and other -fortified villages, and it was not without -emotions of interest and anxiety too, that -they found themselves on the 24th of -June, entering the gates and traversing -the streets of that hitherto openly—perhaps -yet secretly—hostile capital, which -is surrounded by low, barren, and rocky -hills, but amid a plain which time and -human industry have made wondrously -fertile and beautiful. -</p> - -<p> -The dark-visaged and motley crowds in -the streets—Afghans, Kuzzilbashes, -Persians, Tajiks, and Jews—scowled very -unmistakably at the Feringhees, whose -presence they did not want, whose prowess -in recent wars they feared, and whose -race and religion they loathed. -</p> - -<p> -The streets through which the visitors -rode were all built of sun-dried bricks and -wood, about two storeys high, with flat -roofs, and low, square doorways, now and -then a larger one, with a mulberry-tree -overhanging a mud wall, indicating the -residence of a great man. -</p> - -<p> -The city is three miles in circuit, and -is dominated by the Bala Hissar, in which -the embassy took up their quarters, a -place incapable of being defended, though -the citadel, in consequence of the ruinous -condition of its walls and ramparts. It -has, however, a wide ditch, and stabling -for a thousand horses. -</p> - -<p> -It is half-a-mile long by a quarter of a -mile broad, and presents externally a -cluster of lofty, square, embattled towers, -with its chief strength, or inner citadel, -high up on the slope of a hill. -</p> - -<p> -As they entered its arched gate between -two circular towers, Colville heard a voice -amid the scowling crowds exclaim, with -uplifted hands, -</p> - -<p> -'La Ilah ilia Allah? Why does not He -shrivel them all up by a flash of lightning, -and cast them into hell for ever?' -</p> - -<p> -The speaker mingled with the multitude, -but not before Colville recognised -his figure, and remembered Mahmoud -Shah, the sham hadji of Jellalabad; but -it would have been alike unwise to notice -or pursue him at that crisis. -</p> - -<p> -In the Bala Hissar there were assigned -by the Ameer apartments for the use of -the ambassador and his suite and -escort—apartments having marble floors and walls -covered with arabesques, old as the days -of Tamerlane and Baber perhaps, certainly -as old as those of Nadir Shah, and for a -time the whole party were to all -appearance well received by the Sovereign and -his people; but after a little space the -former, notwithstanding his hollow -protestations and fulsome letter to the Viceroy -at Simla, grew cold and haughty, and -daily saw less and less of Sir Louis -Cavagnari, while the mobs without began to -manifest alike turbulence and insolence, -and the isolated embassy was doubtless -involved in peril. -</p> - -<p> -Roving brigands infested all the roads -around the city, yet the months of July -and August passed, quietly enough, though -some Afghan troops who had marched in -from Herat used threatening language -against Sir Louis and insulted the soldiers -of his escort, on one occasion compelling -Colville and two of the guides to draw -their swords. -</p> - -<p> -It has been said—but we know not upon -what authority—that Cavagnari received -distinct information that the lives of -himself and all his companions were in -imminent peril, but the letters which those -gentlemen sent to India, and those which -Mary Wellwood received at long intervals -from Colville, gave no indications of -apprehension. -</p> - -<p> -Yet a stormy cloud was gathering over -the picturesque towers of the Bala Hissar. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> -END OF THE SECOND VOLUME. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t4"> -LONDON: PRINTED BY DUNCAN MACDONALD, BLENHEIM HOUSE. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COLVILLE OF THE GUARDS, VOLUME II (OF 3) ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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